Values- The Tribe That Lost its Head

Alas and alack, politics' virile new broom, the Values Party, has caught the Parliamentary Pox and is now on the way to rupturing itself as well. When Karori's fresh-mouthed clean cut hippies gathered for their annual earnest discussion earlier this year it was with the feeling that the yoghurt could hit the fan — there was plotting afoot. Its origin was sunny Nelson's growing Peace and Love community which had decided, during the off season between planting and harvesting, that Busker Brunt must be axed. And it was done with infinite guile. Anyone with any values, they argued, knew that leadership was a manifestation of power. For that reason the position in the Party must be abolished. Nothing against you personally, Tony.

It was a tense moment for our pristine politicos — you could have heard a punch 'n grow kit drop. Brunt, not without guile himself, saw through the plot, saw also that its mode of execution would be irresistibleto the exponents of the Sunsilk revolution. He went along with it, even conceeding charmingly that he'd grown distressingly fond of power — witness his initial opposition to the plan. Hare Krishna! Rational discourse had won the day — the long knife had been wielded against the concept rather than the man and he'd been a willing and incidental victim. Consciousness 111 retired to its farmlets well-satisfied.

Enter Wellington's Mr X. The Party would be needing a leader in the next election and who better, he thought, than yours truly. He began the spadework Brunt, however, knew it was coming, and as he fancied himself as the natural choice for leader next election, got in first with the 'spadework'. It wasn't long before Mr X found himself orbiting on the outskirts. Another gentle nudge and he was out — stripped of non-rank, Manapouri good-conduct medal and slide-rule. He retired to the city to get away from it all.

This is what happens, Brunt reasoned, when the position of leader is left unfilled — we can't afford to let any other ambitious young turks get fired up on mint tea and threaten the stability of the movement. To this end, it is rumoured, the entire Wellington Shadow Executive or whatever its called was gently ejected and the old war horse once again took up the orb and sceptre. Of course, it presented him with a problem. He's not sure how to announce his second meteoric rise to the public, especially in light of his statements at the Conference. We suggest he turn to nature for the answer — say, a forty day bicycle tour of the unpolluted wilderness. We're sure there he'll find a value he can point to when he makes his announcement. Peace and Love.