Thursday, 28 April 2011


The Beatles were famously grumpy about paying tax:
If you drive a car, I'll tax the street;
If you try to sit, I'll tax your seat;
If you get too cold, I'll tax the heat;
If you take a walk, I'll tax your feet.
I've sometimes wondered if that lovely Harrisonian bassline doesn't replicate a sense of swooping percentile hikes: from the bottom of the octave to the top (from 0 to 100%), then three filler notes, two round about a 'reasonable' level (50%-ish), one in the 90's, to reflect the more punitive Wilson levels, and then the upper octave again. At least Ray Davies, though unhappy, accepts that some aspects of a happy life are not liable for tax:
The tax man's taken all my dough,
And left me in my stately home,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon.
And I can't sail my yacht,
He's taken everything I've got,
All I've got's this sunny afternoon.
Harrison would have mumbled ('wan, two, three, fowur') about a suntax as well.

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