Which ever way you look at it, if you’re born or live in England you’re being taxed to death, and you have to pay a tax on that too.  And, as usual, it’s the little people who have no say in how much our taxes go up by, that’s all taken care of by a bunch of faceless sadistic ‘suits’ somewhere in the Government.

I’ve been on the planet for 54 years now, and not once have I seen a price reduction in a tax.  They may have been stopped at some point, but overall they’ve been superseded by a duty under a different name. 

Now I say ‘duty’ for a very good reason, because this means you are obliged to hand over part of your life savings for a service or product you can’t do without.  Hence the phrase, ‘They’ve got us by the bollocks.’  This isn’t a term you’ll hear used in Westminster but it means the same as, ‘There’s going to be a rail fare increase.’  Here’s a list of the taxes you might donate to in your lifetime and their total yearly income.  Better get yourself a stiff drink; you’re going to need it:

Aggregates levy – Climate change levy – Landfill tax – Betting and gaming duties – Petroleum revenue – Air passenger duty – Spirits duty – Insurance premium tax – Customs duties and levies – Wine duties – Inheritance tax – Beer and cider tax – Capital gains tax – Vehicle excise duties – Tobacco duties – Stamp duties – Business rates – Council tax – Fuel duties – Corporation tax – Value added tax – National insurance – Income tax and other taxes and royalties.  And the sum total is, 641.1 billion pounds, and that was for the year 2007/8!

The keen-eyed amongst you will have spotted that to offset the depressing word ‘tax’, other words have been employed, such as levy, revenue and royalties.  You may have also noticed that petrol seems to have been taxed twice – once with a duty and then again with a revenue.  What the hell’s that all about?

Now, it’s Friday and it’s five-to-five.  No, it’s not time for ‘Cracker Jack’, that well known English kids TV programme from the 60’s, it’s knocking off time in the office.  Thousands of work-weary people are heading for the station to get their train home.  It’s been 90 degrees all day and each commuter is walking around in a trance.  They board their carriage hoping to get a seat, but they don’t. 

The train pulls off and everybody standing up or pressed against a window is wondering why they pay the same fare for hanging off a strap, and have to suffer with someone else’s armpit or gusset in their face all the way home.   They disembark, only to see the fares have been increased by another 11% and then they burn down the station.  It’s coming, mark my words.

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This entry was posted on Sunday, February 12th, 2012 at 2:12 am and is filed under Neils Blog. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.