This is going to be the mea culpa of a lifetime. This is from PVO today about the Victorian Budget:
Same Treasurer, different Premier – even more debt. That’s the story of today’s Victorian budget, handed down by long term state treasurer Tim Pallas.
It is the first state budget delivered since Dan Andrews retired as Premier, making it new Premier Jacinta Allan’s first since she took charge – but that’s pretty much all that’s changed. Increasing taxes and broken election promises are littered throughout this budget.
While points for effort need to be awarded when it comes to attempting to clean up the fiscal disaster she inherited, spending is still rife and debt continues to balloon.
Moving on, at least partly, I am here to say I got the Victorian lockdowns wrong. I was a wuss.
I should instead have agreed to slow containment through socially undisruptive measures so that too many old people didn’t die.
This hideous conclusion is because I have watched Melbourne transform from pre-pandemic nirvana to hate town.
The lockdown did it. I supported it. I should not have. I contracted Stockholm Syndrome.
My theory for what has happened (with assistance from my extraordinary psychologist wife) is that people contain their inner demons (inner child, whatever) through habit and community rituals.
Stripped of this daily containment is like opening Tartarus. The demons of antisocial behaviour are disgorged.
This is not always obvious; it is often passive aggressive, not outright assault.
The point is that the world’s most locked-down city is in a state of trauma.
The best therapy for Melbourne would probably be to drag the spectacled tyrant into Spring Steet Square (and I) for a good tar and feathering.
Instead of that, take a look at his economic damage.
It is a reflection of you.
