Neither Knights, nor the bastard gentry

I had a fantastic idea on the weekend … It came to me while I was enjoying an ice cold can of Bundy and a fantastic meal at the end of a long afternoon on the golf course at Oatlands.

My mind wandered beyond the pristine fairways and rolling hills, to the top end of town, and to the failure of our taxation system to capture its fair share from many multinationals.

And then it came to me.

If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em! No, not the good folk of Oatlands; the bastards at the top!

Let’s corporatise Tasmania … become one of these multinationals ourselves. This could be a multi-pronged winner for our great State; we could save on GST, pay 00.02% tax (to Luxemburg, or some other fairyland tax haven), and appoint a Chief Executive Officer, someone with actual experience, a degree … a resume!

And ensure the likes of Bryan aren’t able to put their hand back in the cookie jar.

We would no longer have to kowtow to the political royalty whose succession is ensured through their surname as if they are joining the Knights of the Blue Garter, without ever going in to battle.

We could franchise! Let’s roll it out across the globe, sign up unsuspecting minnows, and make up complex internal fee structures and rubbery loans. My plan would surely sustain Tasmania into perpetuity?

Wouldn’t it?

It was just then as I started to fashion the business plan in my head that a nauseating wave of reality rushed back into the narrow void that is my mind.

Why shouldn’t we pay our way? Why should big companies be allowed to minimise tax through shadowy deals and complex manipulation, why shouldn’t they, like the good folk of Oatlands do the right thing?

I have now reassessed my business plan and have developed a new mission.

1. Agitate for change (make the bastards pay)

2. Vote for actions and experience, not for knighthoods

3. Play the Anzac Day Ambrose at Oatlands again next year.

Now onto the SWOT (Strengths Weakness Opportunity Threats … useful for business planning).

*Cameron Brown is a local working class kid, who doesn’t own a museum; but still has stuff to say!