All the analysts we contacted were in bed by the time the budget was tabled, so we wrangled a bitchy millennial with an axe to grind. Soz.
I’m reporting this via iPhone note from the foyer of a hotel I’m not staying at. The televisions are rolling with the same coverage of the same figures, and it’s boring the tits off me. So, let’s get to the skinny side of the belt-tightening.
Spoiler alert. ScoMo didn’t make it rain.
Sucks to be you:
Morally questionable off-shore financial firms/”creative tax” consultants.
Ouch. Those who match expensive watches with floral shirts and a high cholesterol rating will be sucking their teeth along with the remainder of that Cuervo this morning with ScoMo announcing that the tax rate would be 40 percent for those who use offshore investment. It’s a hammer blow, not only for those blessed with a razor sharp financial mind and no scruples, but also those of us who dreamed to see our name alongside football megastars and European heads of state in the next Panama Papers leak.
Which is unfair. Off-shore banking should be for all, not just those who can afford it.
Parents who are trying to keep their tenuous grip on a semblance of their previous life (-$1.1 billion)
Parents. No, not yours. But the ones you barely see. That stressed, increasingly flabby blur that push past you, juggling the next generation with their old career and the fact that there is a lack of time in which to give a fuck anymore. All they seek is a place to slow the (now 4WD) down to a crawl and heave their children over the picket fence of childcare before heading to that towering coffin downtown, to deal with children with beards.
Hey you. Mum. The one who matches that suit you no longer like with your joggers, because your shoes are killing you. Hi. How’s your morning? Good? PS: those small subsidies to assist with the cutthroat gladiatorial battle with the owners of the arena, are outtahere.
University students, who smoke and eventually end up in the public service (-$2 billion, +12.5 percent rise in excise, -$4 billion, -$1.4 billion)
So you’ve decided who you want to be at University. A tough thing to figure, both in which degree to take on, and also where you fit in the ecosystem. Your look has a large say in where you slide in, be it Tort Reg, Uni Bar, Wireless Fi. There was nothing wrong with being the student who studies law to enter the public service, whilst calming the nerves with the Peters of Jackson and Stuyvesant (I should know, I dated one), but now there apparently is. Note: if this stereotype chose you, it might be time for a rethink.
Perhaps, I suggest, a subset that isn’t being marginalised by Morrison – one of an English/history degree, where your PhD focuses on the draconian laws of the commonwealth vis-a-vis the Stalinist policy of 1939-1943?
Honestly, you should. They’re targeting you, sending you to tertiary Siberia for no reason, other than the fact that you’re you. Look over there. The home-brew swilling science set aren’t nearly as marginalised. Smug, drunk pricks.
So hot right now:
The Australian Taxation Office and their new super squad of pedants (+$678.9 million)
Oh, the ATO. Bless their regimentally organised souls. You would think that the bland grey flannel conformity of the ATO lifestyle would kill dreams, not nurture them. Well, cynics, you’re wrong.
The above figure will be used to form a Tax Avoidance Taskforce, chasing faceless corporates around the virtual globe to get them to make with the taxation monies. “What?”, you say, “That’s not romantic”? Well, for some people, the fact that they were born too late to catch Al Capone and his vast fiduciary misdeeds is too much to bear. It’s a secret hell that these people face every morning, knowing that the zenith of law enforcement taxation has already been reached.
But, this morning, today, the air will taste all the more crisper, and the birds will sing all the more louder. If someone wishes you a vibrant “Good Morning!” today, that’s one of those people.
Go, you good things, go.
Men in uniform (+$32.3 billion)
Those who are paid to kill will be able to do so with a stoic thumbs up from the Government. Eventually growing to two percent of the GDP, (which, I don’t know what that is, but…it’s much more than it is now,) presumably, the growth in our Naval force will combat ISIS’ newly minted fleet of super battleships, or perhaps to build guns big enough to plug the large holes in the hull of rickety asylum seeker clippers.
It is unknown how much of said increase will be spent on extroversion/singing lessons to combat the ever-growing gap of impromptu public karaoke sessions on civilians with the goal of completing sexual conquest on the premises.
Our defence forces, you’ve lost that lovin’ feelin’.
Nan and Pop’s failing business that they’re holding onto because they’ve got nothing else (Tax rate cut to 27.5 percent)
Next time you go down to the newso and you feel bad for the dottering couple behind the counter, those two lovers slavishly peddling their relics of a dying industry at $1.20 a pop, don’t. Before your heart strings command you to utter the words, “keep the change,” know this: they don’t need your money.
The tax rate has been shrunk to 27.5 percent, with the eligibility threshold increasing from $2 million to $10 million PA.
Time to invest in some primo magazines, Gerty.
So, if you’ve scrolled down this far, in the vain hope of that sweet windfall you deserve for being as normal as the rest of us…keep scrolling, Louise. Save for the increase in the middle-tax bracket from $80,000 to $87,000, Santy didn’t visit the rest of us.