The carbon tax for you at home.

"Tony Abbott is proposing what now!?"



I’ve been waiting patiently for the mainstream media, with their depth of experience and resources, to provide a detailed piece examining the proposed “carbon tax” but they’re obviously too busy tweeting or re-tweeting somebody else’s tweets* to oblige, so in the great “DIY” tradition of the Internet**, I thought I’d give it a crack myself.

At the moment companies can release large amounts of carbon into the atmosphere with no more consequence than pursed lips and some “tut-tutting”***. The purpose of a carbon tax (or levy, however you want to put it) is that polluting companies will be charged a fee (yet to be set) for every ton of carbon they release.

This means that not only will there be an economic incentive for companies to switch from high-polluting to low-polluting technologies; it will also provide an incentive for consumers to move from goods and services involving large carbon emissions (costly) to goods and services involving lower carbon emissions (less costly).

It also means, as PM Jules has repeatedly said, that the costs of some things will rise, which is why some of the money raised by the carbon tax will be used to compensate lower-income earners as well as being invested in newer, greener technologies.

As to whether the PM “lied” or not, well really, who gives a fat fuck.

She said before the election that there needed to be a price on carbon. Whether you call it a “tax” or a “levy”, it’s completely irrelevant as to whether it’s good policy or not.

Based on everything I’ve read, it’s a good start.

* I don’t know what that means.

** I don’t know what that means, either.

*** I may exaggerate slightly.

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.

Backs are cunts!

I have strained a muscle in my lower back* which has somewhat soured my normally sunny disposition.

The worst thing – apart from the constant, agonising pain – is that every single passing moron on the street or on public transport, after seeing me hobble past, feels compelled to pass on their own, ludicrous, pet theories.

For example.

Passing moron: “Hurt your back, eh?”

Me: “Yes”.

Passing moron: “You should see my naturopath/reki healer/spiritualist/yoga guru. My boyfriend/girlfriend/aunt/uncle/flatmate/person from the internet saw a naturopath/reki healer/spiritualist/yoga guru for their back/chest/head/dick pain and they were fixed right up.”

Me: “Thanks. I’ll chase that one right up once I can move without screaming.”

It’s just as well that I don’t have a cane – yet – as I would be sorely tempted to beat the living shite out of them with it.

*From reaching into the fridge to get a beer, if you must know**.

**There you go kids. The lesson we learn from this is alcohol is indeed bad for your health***.

***Either that or put the beer up higher.

Public broadcasting announcement

For those luddites of you too clueless or, alternately, law-abiding to have already watched it on illegal go-straight-to-jail destroying-the-fabric-of-society interwebs filesharing bittorrent download, tune in tonight ABC 7:30pm to see the newest of the one-off Doctor Who specials - The Planet of the Dead.

I won't give any advance spoilers, but anyone who's seen the ads should see that it will be scary (sand everywhere - gets into one's nether regions - icky) and sexy (Michelle Ryan (mmmm) looking six million dollars; and David Tennant for everyone with a brain and a pulse - I mean really, who doesn't want to be, or to be with, Monsieur Tennant??).

Watch the episode, or suffer the endless shame heaped upon you by your more culturally enlightened peers.