Friday 24 April 2009

How Can I Miss You If You Won't Go Away?

Anyone watch Newsnight last night? I was infuriated by the vox pops with a pair of bankers. One of them had the classic combination of long, greased-back hair, loud suit, louder shirt and yet louder tie. He looked, in fact, like a paedophile otter, and I say that as a relative rodent. With a straight face, he attacked the new 50% tax rate (which only applies to earnings above £150,000, not the whole pay-packet) as a class-driven way to pay for government mistakes, and threatened the emigration of the banking sector.

Er… isn't the country in massive amounts of debt because we've had to bail out pretty much all the banks? Yes, this and the previous government volunteered their services like desperate rent boys, but there's no getting round the fact that these bankers made millions personally while bankrupting the entire nation - and now they're squealing because we want a little more of their stratospheric pay in order to keep the country afloat. If they want to emigrate, brilliant. I can't think that many countries will be queuing up to avail themselves of bankers' services, but at least they'll be off our patch.

Perhaps we should start a letter writing campaign. Let's each adopt a merchant bank and send postcards every day encouraging these bastards to leave (or kill themselves).

(the title of this post is a country song: terrible music, great lyrics)

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