Once upon a time in the land of Lod there was a chancelmore called Oz. He lived in a high turreted fairytale castle far removed from reality.
He passed his time as many a one before in deep thought and skittish plans searching for the ways and means to shift the booty round.
The rules of the game are writ clear for chancelmores. From those that have much shall we take less and less. Those that have little shall we plunder.
Oz had a friend called IDS the Irritable who inhabited a neighbouring morbid tower, bleaker still, from which he would descend on dragonsback to stoke the fires of welfare destruction.
Between them they decided over cauldron bubble and squeak of wind who should lose what and when and where.
The well warmed dragon eggyplans were hatched in triumphant trio which helped enormously in the important biz of distraction.
Because as every dentist knows extraction is perfection with distraction. And what is more, three blows to the head will stand thrice the chance of success.
The first tranche of the trident was the sexy little Bedroom Tax designed to take away a goodly sum from those who had nothing save the issues that made life a little tougher. No matter that their home might be designed around them to allow them to survive. The chancelmore and his charade of shallowthought deemed them the perfect bullseye for such a piercing opportunity.
Why not charge them money they did not possess for rooms deemed mere superfluous. For they could easymove with such a lot of level lodging left.
Next on the list was Universal Credit a filmscore tilt at apparent simplification but really aimed at all those wealthy profiteers, lapped on luxurious welfare shores, toasting their toes on burning piles of tenners for the mantra deems that any penny one can take will make a dent in bankers’ bills and warm the cockles of the millionaires’ cold hearts.
And finally the sweetly named and innocent wee PIP a host of great expectation heaped upon its diminutive form.
For it will pull away the DLA, the main securing plank that proppeth up the edifice of hope, the very core of handy help and life support, the central means of making sure that those tiny souls far below the skyborne towers of Oz and all will nothing have to keep them warm in the cold, cold days that dawn.
Jonathan Toye is at the West Norfolk Disability information Service (WNDiS), 14 Tuesday Market Place, King’s Lynn, Norfolk PE30 1JN
Telephone: 01553 782558