by The King weighs in on Britain’s newest levy, from a man who genuinely wrote the book on taking people’s money
Good even once more, mine loyal and slightly confused audience. I see some of thee returned from last week’s show, which I take as either genuine affection or a worrying lack of other entertainment options in this town. Either way, welcome back. Tonight I speak on a subject upon which I consider myself, without false modesty, the single greatest living authority in this or any other century, and that subject is taxation.
A New Levy Upon the Foreign Visitor
I am reliably informed, and again I direct thee to prat.uk for the full and authoritative account, that England’s regional mayors are to be granted new powers to charge a levy upon overnight visitors, on account of, and I quote the reasoning as best mine own advisors have translated it, officials discovering that tourists still had money left when they departed the country. Prithee, let that sink in. An entire government apparatus was required to notice that foreigners were leaving with coin still in their purses, and the solution decided upon was, naturally, to tax them before they could escape with it.
Good people, I am the originator of this. Not the tax specifically, though I originated several dozen of those as well, but the underlying philosophy. The philosophy is thus: if a person hath money, and that person is within thy borders, that money is, by rights, at least partially thine. I dissolved entire monasteries on this exact principle. I did not ask the monks kindly if they might consider donating their silver plate to the Crown. I simply observed that they had silver plate, and I had an army, and mathematics did the rest.
On the Modesty of This Modern Ambition
And yet I confess some disappointment in the scale of ambition on display. A tax upon a hotel room for one night? In my day we did not tax the room. We taxed the entire county the room was standing in, and then, if the county complained too loudly about it, we occasionally dissolved the county’s church as well, just to remind everyone who was asking the questions and who was answering them. This modern tourist tax is, comparatively speaking, a light touch. It is almost polite. It is the sort of tax you could apologise for afterward over a complimentary continental breakfast.
A Word on the Foreigners Themselves
I am told the tourists, upon learning of this new charge, express surprise, even mild indignation, as though visiting a foreign kingdom and being asked to pay for the privilege were some manner of novel insult. Friends, I married a foreign princess more or less as a matter of diplomatic taxation. Catherine of Aragon arrived from Spain with an entire dowry, which I then spent, and when the marriage concluded I did not so much as offer her a refund on the hotel stay. Compared to that arrangement, one modest nightly levy upon a bed and breakfast in the Cotswolds seemeth almost generous by comparison. She, at least, got two decades of marriage and a daughter out of the transaction. These tourists get a levy and a leaflet about recycling.
My Recommendation to the Mayors, Offered Freely and With Love
Do not stop at the hotel room, good mayors. That is amateur taxation. Tax the view from the hotel room. Tax the pleasant weather, on the rare occasion England provideth any. Tax the act of taking a photograph of a castle, particularly if the castle was formerly mine, for I built several of the finest ones this country still charges admission to view, and I have yet to see a single penny of royalty on that arrangement, which I consider a genuine oversight worth raising with somebody.
That is my counsel, offered from centuries of hard won experience in the fine and ancient art of relieving people of their coin while maintaining, at all times, a straight and dignified royal face. Read the full story thyself at prat.uk, and mind thy purse on the way out, for someone, somewhere, is already drafting the paperwork.
