Well, well, well it’s a ‘Wellbeing budget’

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The Mystic hieroglyphs of the ” Wellbeing budget”

Well, thank God for that.

Yesterday, while nobody was in charge and with all the more important persons being preoccupied at an occasion breathlessly reported as a “multi-day” caucus retreat (whatever that is), some innovative underling at Labour party HQ buckled to the relentless pressure exerted by New Zealand’s favourite right-wing nut-job blog and finally explained what a “Wellbeing” budget is.

Obviously too timid to explain in writing, fearing they’ll be outing her or himself if they do, as well as alienating their supporter base who have only a concentration-span suited for comics, the meaning of the ‘Well-being’ budget has instead been construed into a series of mystic hieroglyphs the writer has spent multi-hours decoding the meaning of:

A many-gendered, three filament lightbulb

Deciphering from the left, as is their probable wont, is a many-gendered, three filament lightbulb which, in its haste to multi-identify, has succeeded in mis-wiring and electrocuting itself, morphing into Edvard Munch’s androgynous sufferer in ‘The Scream’ complete with distress signals; a sure sign to be mindful before proceeding with permanent change based on a temporary hunch. A precautionary rune. That’s fair enough.

Next is a dollar sign juxtaposed against a drain while some mystical force, rotating relentlessly leftward like Druids in prayer, is driving the denominator as it gravitates to the gurgler. I believe that’s a very pertinent sign and, although it’s only money, and I can’t fully explain why, it nevertheless leaves me very concerned.

A dollar sign juxtaposed against a drain

Then comes the omnipresent cultural appropriation beloved of the left-footers; still, after all these years, requiring the whole world and its wife to apologise for the first Labour government’s entirely racist Social Security Act of 1938 which decided Maori were worth much less and relieving them accordingly, both of dignity and of dole-outs. Enough said.

The omnipresent cultural appropriation

This is followed by a curious bald fellow, smirking like the infamous kid in the MAGA hat, his forehead tattooed with an integrated-circuit schematic, blissful and indifferent. Probably the same person from hieroglyph 1 following treatment; but the actual meaning of this symbol was too obscure for this writer’s multi-minute foray into the world of graphics deconstruction in an age of post-patriarchal, hetero-phobic anarchy to fully comprehend. I beg your own humble interpretation.

A curious bald fellow, smirking like the infamous kid in the MAGA hat,

Lastly, ultimately, the sure sign of distress; a heart attack. A cross, the sign of a medical emergency, anchored over an anonymous right atrium. This merry metaphor indicates a cardiotocography, or CGT, is imminent whether you suppose you’ll enjoy it or not. CGT also stands for Capital Gains Tax, I’m sure this is pure coincidence, although, it must be said, there does exist an uncanny, unhealthy and unfortunate, parallel relationship between asset seizures and heart seizures.

A sure sign of distress; a heart attack.

‘The signs’, as someone once said, ‘they not good’; Kemo-Sahbee.

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