I’m wrong of course, as usual. We should all be so extremely grateful to the King and his Merry Men for being able to see their ways to doling out 75 smakaroos, 75 big ones out of their slush funds, to all the poor people of Australia. True, he’s not doling it out to all the poor people in the country but only to the 2nd and 3rd class.

It is after all, 75 bucks that could be used in much better ways … The King says that its his parents fault .. and therefore mine, that has forced him to have to withhold our cash from us in the first place. Says if his parents hadn’t had so many kids then the country would be in tip top shape .. here I couldn’t agree with him more! Let’s not let the fact that if his parents hadn’t had so many kids then perhaps he wouldn’t have either … ?

I don’t see why the King and his Bank of Wisdom can’t draw the long bow and squint down the arrow to see the obvious, if not final solution, in that this pitence of gold could more than solve the problem if turned into drugs. Cyanide. Unless there’s something better (I’m a bit behind on my science).

Cyanide .. thats right, and I doubt it’d even cost those 75 shmackers per person – 2nd and 3rd class only of course. I for one would like mine now and I know of hundreds more that would willingly swap their coal powered desk lamp for a little pill.

So I thank, and stand corrected by, the old fella with the buggy behind me and I acknowledge that his solution, though still not final, has a lot more merit in it for the kids future. And yes sir, it is more socially responsible than doling it out to a power company that won’t even have to pay any tax on it. However, is there no difference between doling it out to a drug company that won’t have to pay tax on it or a power company that doesn’t pay tax?

Don’t get me wrong, once I’ve got my little pill I don’t give a crap whether the Kings Men pay taxes or not, or who they blame their poverty on … But one thing Mr Blue Buggy, shouldn’t we look to make the solution final and to, say, have a pill giveaway regularly .. say just before every election? Or, perhaps just before every birth?

Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these? O, I have ta’en
Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou mayst shake the superflux to them
And show the heavens more just. – William Shakespeare’s King Lear.