Jozef Imrich, name worthy of Kafka, has his finger on the pulse of any irony of interest and shares his findings to keep you in-the-know with the savviest trend setters and infomaniacs.
''I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the center.''
-Kurt Vonnegut
On April 28, 2024By Essiy Park
A man pocketed $85,000 in cash in a “very simple but effective” Australian Taxation Office scam and there was no chance the money would ever be repaid, Cairns District Court heard on Friday.
Paul Jason Valle, 50, pleaded guilty to six counts of obtaining a financial advantage by deception and one count of attempting to obtain a financial advantage by deception in the Cairns District Court on Friday.
Bizarrely, an anonymous person filled in the returns after Valle provided his MyGov ID and reactivated a defunct ABN, but Valle benefited, with the tribunal ruling that the money was spent on “bills, drugs and meals out with his girlfriend “.
Judge Ian Dearden warned from the start that information provided about Valle’s health problems would not prevent a stint behind bars.
“It’s just blatant fraud, there’s not even the faintest air of reality,” Judge Dearden said.
“To put it very clearly, it’s candy money until the Commonwealth catches up, it’s been paid and subsequently spent, and the prospect of getting anything back is pretty slim.”
Commonwealth’s Attorney Christopher Moore told the court that Valle was receiving GST refunds to which he was not entitled.
There was no commercial entity.
“As soon as these funds were in his account, he made significant withdrawals,” Mr Moore said.
The scam started in November 2021, with six BASs lodged, but by April 2022, when a claim for $17,990 was unsuccessfully lodged, the ATO “smelled a rat”.
Vale pocketed about $85,000 — the government took $18,429 owed in unpaid child support from the funds.
“He did not pay any money to the person who assisted him,” Mr Moore said.
Defense attorney Tim Grau presented medical evidence about the recurrence of a tumor in Valle’s bladder, his depression and other problems such as carpal tunnel syndrome.
He submitted character references and outlined a solid work history, although at the time of the fraud Valle was receiving a government benefit and living rough.
He sent a letter of apology from Valle that he said showed remorse, embarrassment and shame.
“They could not have orchestrated this without the assistance of a third party,” Mr. Grau said.
“He was approached by an old friend, as your honor said, it was candy money.”
Judge Dearden said it was a simple but effective fraud for six months.
“Prison is the only appropriate punishment, it was a blatant and substantial fraud,” he said.
“There is absolutely no prospect of repair.”
Valle received a principal sentence of two and a half years, with release after six months on $500 reparations and a three-year good behavior bond.
bronwyn.farr@news.com.au
The IPA-Deakin SME Research Centre has examined the shortcomings of the ATO’s governance model and proposed a Tax System Advisory Board to help positive transformation.
Chris Sheedy
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April 24, 2024
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4 minute read
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Back in 2009, Dr Ken Henry’s tax review recommended the foundation of an Australian Tax Advisory Board. Its main objective would be to improve oversight and accountability of the Australian Taxation Office (ATO). Similar advisory boards already existed in the USA, UK, Japan, Singapore, Finland, Canada and elsewhere.
This was far from a new idea for Australia either. In 1999, the Ralph Review of Business Taxation had suggested a similar body to oversee business taxation in Australia – part of a suite of recommendations aimed at increasing the business taxation system’s resilience and fairness.
Following the 2009 Henry recommendation, in 2010 the Federal Government announced it would establish a Tax System Advisory Board to advise the Tax Commissioner on strategy, culture, management, IT and more. However, with a change of government, those plans were scuppered.
Since then, the ATO has suffered the shock of Operation Protego, a social media-led GST scam worth a reported $2 billion and involving 150 ATO staff. The Richard Boyle whistleblower affair revealed alleged abuse of power within the ranks of the ATO. And the department’s inability to manage what would eventually become an international scandal as PwC allegedly shared confidential tax policy informationwith multinationals to help them avoid taxes, became very public news indeed.
The Institute of Public Accountants believes an essential ingredient of urgently required tax reform in Australia is the establishment of this long-awaited advisory board to the ATO.
Such a body wouldn’t necessarily prevent all of these problems from occurring, says Professor George Tanewski from the IPA-Deakin SME Research Centre. But it would minimise the governance issues the ATO is experiencing, he says. It would also offer the organisation a powerful level of insight and understanding in its mission to conduct tax business fairly, on behalf of all Australians.
The argument for a tax advisory board
“The Australian tax system can be significantly improved by the ATO adopting an executive advisory body that provides input into the ATO’s strategic direction,” according to researchers at the IPA-Deakin SME Research Centre, published in Proposal to Enhance the Governance of the Australian Taxation Office (ATO): A Review of the Literature and International Evidence.
“Creation of such an executive advisory body within the ATO would not only improve the oversight and strategic functioning of the ATO, but it would significantly improve the transparency and adherence to the Taxpayer Charter (recently renamed ‘Our Charter’) and make the operations of the ATO more accountable. Moreover, such an advisory board might prevent or mitigate in the future such problems as cybersecurity issues, the modernisation of the business register, small business debt book, etc.”
Tanewski, one of the report’s authors, says the ATO has a very good reputation globally.
“It’s one of the best-functioning tax departments in the world,” he says. “Given that, and given the fact that Australia is a democratic country, it just makes sense that the ATO is advised by a cross-section of experts.”
“It’s important that diverse views come through,” he says. “The ATO is meant to be representing taxpayers. We fund it and it is responsible to the taxpayer.”
[h2] How a tax advisory board should work
The primary purpose of such a board, Tanewski says, is to draw upon the individual expertise of its hand-picked members to gain deep insight and advice. It should also help shape the organisation, resolving structural, cultural and reputational issues along the way.
Board members should not be involved in issues concerning tax affairs of individuals. In fact, they should not be in a micro-management or decision-making position at all, Tanewski says. They are simply there to advise.
The Tax Commissioner already consults widely, the report says, including via “more than 50 advisory panels and committees that include external representation … however, while the key function of the above-mentioned bodies is to scrutinise and provide accountability, there is no specific executive advisory body within the ATO that is drawn from the wider Australian community providing input into the ATO’s strategic direction and ensuring the organisation is following its own charter.”
The report suggests the advisory board should be made up of nine to 11 members appointed for a specific term, such as three years, and able to be appointed for a second term. It should hold regular meetings – evidence from other territories suggests six times per year.
Other recommendations in the report include:
Roles and responsibilities do not include interpretation and implementation of day-to-day administration and tax laws.
The board should provide high-level strategic advice and apply private sector experience.
The board should remain completely independent of the ATO, containing no employees of the organisation.
The board itself must be transparent in its relationships, actions and advice, including having its own performance regularly reviewed against its obligations and objectives.
The advisory board should be responsible for monitoring the performance of the ATO, holding the Tax Commissioner accountable for the organisation’s performance.
Diversity of expertise, experience and skills is essential across members of the advisory board.
This diversity includes “areas such as information technology, human resources, finance and communication”, the report says.
“It is important that the advisory board has the right combination of people [and] is reflective of Australia’s diverse communities, and that all members have the requisite skills and experience to deal with complex organisational and socio-economic issues.”
Success, Tanewski says, will come down to how the advisory board is structured.
“It will come down to structure, to accountability and to who is involved,” he says.
“Importantly, it will also come down to how clearly the advisory board’s role is spelled out. If the roles and responsibilities are unclear, it can muddy the waters and damage the board’s ability to perform.”
The actor behind John Blackthorne examines the Shōgun finale’s rich ambiguities, his final moments onscreen, and just how close he felt to the character through to the end.
History might always be seen through the prism of current sensibilities, but with the rise of shows such asBridgertonon television orHamilton onstage, costume drama is increasingly self-conscious and playful in dealing with anachronism.
The remake of James Clavell’s Shogun, which finishes this week (Disney+), bucks that trend almost entirely, and it’s worth asking why this swashbuckling tale of feudal Japan – which keeps the brutality and misogyny and bald racial prejudice of the era intact – has become the most streamed show in North America this year, according to Justwatch.com, and elsewhere.
Tadanobu Asano as Kashigi Yabushige in Shogun.CREDIT: KATIE YU / FX
Interestingly, Shogun reminded me more of epic fantasy than early modern period drama. It’s less Wolf Hall, more Game of Thrones in feel and tone, with its bloodthirsty dynastic intrigue, elaborate battle scenes, its titillating side-serve of sex and gore and (the most blatant concession to anachronism) casual swearing that has characters growling, “f--- this!” during naval escapes, or dissing Osaka as a “shithole”.
Even the title sequence has a Thrones-like quality, and it doesn’t feel remotely out of place. Perhaps that’s because most fantasy is, in fact, period fiction. Its governing paradigm is the medieval imagination and if you leave aside the dragons and ice zombies, many of the set-pieces in George R.R. Martin’s work – including the infamous “Red Wedding” scene – have real historical precedents.
All of which makes Shogun a more natural successor to Game of Thrones than it might appear, and it happens to be loosely based on fact, too.
The marooned English pilot John Blackthorne (Cosmo Jarvis) and the shrewd warlord he comes to serve, Lord Taranaga (Hiroyuki Sanada), were inspired by the English navigator William Adams and future shogun Tokugawa Ieyasu, who reunited Japan under his rule at the beginning of the Edo period.
It’s a fascinating part of Japanese history, and Shogun’s lavish (and largely historically accurate) visual detail, from suits of samurai armour to long shots of Osaka Castle, almost spares you a trip to Japan to see the period’s treasures.
And, for all the derring-do of the show’s English adventurer, Europeans do not get the upper hand. The Japanese resisted interference from traders and missionaries, adopting the isolationist policy of sakoku(“locked country”) soon after the action in Shogun, sealing itself off from the West for centuries.
That might partly explain why Shogun hasn’t attracted criticism for reflecting the values of the past. Avoiding colonisation gets you out of some very bleak and traumatic history, and a show with a majority Japanese cast, performing in Japanese, is a solid defence to Eurocentrism, even though a nimbus of orientalism sometimes hangs over the portrayal of women or the foregrounding of exotic torture. (A random sailor gets boiled alive in a cauldron in the first episode, in one brazen example, his executioner ordering a poem to be composed about his dying moments.)
And yet the world of the samurai has long been a staple of Japan’s rise to cultural superpower. It’s a touchstone at the highest level of Japanese screen arts, such as the Kurosawa films The Seven Samurai and Ran, and at the more modest level of enjoyable trash.
Shogun’s lavish visual detail … almost spares you a trip to Japan to see the period’s treasures.
Shogun is enjoyable trash, and if you object to that term, you’re in good company. I once ran into Charles Dance in a theatre foyer and made the mistake of telling him, amiably enough, that I thought Game of Thrones was “trash”. He immediately transformed into Tywin Lannister: “Trash?” he declared in mock outrage. “It’s a global phenomenon!”
Shogun represents the upside of a truly globalised streaming market.
Audiences in the Anglosphere are flocking to the best foreign language television, and it’s not a coincidence that films such as Parasite or Everything Everywhere All At Once are winning Oscars at the same time.
Subtitled fare is thoroughly mainstream these days, and if you’re anything like me, you’ll be a purist about it – if for no other reason than to dodge the cheesiness that can compromise English dubbing on streaming services.
Anna Sawai as Mariko, who becomes the translator for John Blackthorne in Shogun.CREDIT: KATIE YU/FX
Don’t believe me? Try watching Babylon Berlin in English – the atmosphere is totally undermined by voice acting that parodies hard-boiled American noir – or the Korean social influencer thriller Celebrity, where the characters sound like vacuous valley girls.
I don’t know whether there’s any English dubbing for Shogun. It seemed like a crime against the series even to look, given that the importance and difficulty of translation, a task assigned to the formidable Lady Mariko (Anna Sawai), is intricately portrayed and becomes a major motif in this epic of political and cultural collision.
Still, despite its success in bringing Japanese history and language to the English-speaking world, does Shogunrepresent a retreat, in a way, from Bridgerton and the vogue for costume drama as a progressive playground?
No, not really. Walter Benjamin famously described history as an angel, its wings caught in a storm, back turned forever against the future, the debris pile of the past ascending skyward before it. The debris is what we call progress, Benjamin wrote. And it’s a creative trash pile big enough for almost any kind of artistic engagement.
There’s space in the streaming world for a range of approaches to history, and any fair assessment should admit they all have advantages and drawbacks.
The postmodern, devil-may-care anachronism in Bridgerton does allow a more diverse pool of actors to perform in period works that typically would’ve excluded them or limited their roles, but it can risk whitewashing historical oppression.
Shōgun strives for more historically realistic world-building, though the perspective is subtly skewed by its author’s outsider status – James Clavell was an Englishman writing in 1975, after all – and it probably has as many elements of escapist fantasy as Bridgerton. They’re just better disguised.
Of course, if we’re educated about history and can think critically about the past, there’s no risk of mistaking Bridgerton for anything but the progressive fantasia it is, or confusing Shogun with the more complex historical picture under the fiction. Ultimately, the way we consume historical drama is as vital as what the artists put into making it.
Mr GARETH WARD (Kiama)—Today the Parliament of New South Wales recognises the Gerringong Naval Association. The association prides itself on creating a positive and engaging environment, where members, ranging from aviators ("birdies") to divers ("bubblies"), come together to share their unique experiences. This diverse blend also includes "stokers or clankies" (engineers), "subbies" (submariners), "dibbies" (seamen), "fish heads" (ship drivers), "greenies" (electricians), and "box packers" (logisticians). The monthly gatherings also feature a formal segment where business matters are discussed, and occasionally, remembrance is observed. At the helm of this maritime community is Commodore Lee Cordner, a veteran with 33 years of active service and 16 years in the reserves. The Secretary, Robert Foster, a former Warrant Officer, exemplifies the association's commitment to continued service. In retirement, Foster works as a veteran's advocate. The Gerringong Naval Association's legacy traces back to the late Bill Popple, a WW2 veteran and founding secretary. Although Mr Popple sadly passed away, his spirit lives on. The oldest member, Max Hair is 95.
Max served as a 'dibbie' (Petty Officer) in the Korean War. I take this opportunity to thank all local defence personnel, both current and former, for their exemplary service to our nation.
Once upon a not so many years ago Max “Bunny” Hair, 93, was the returned veteran who, prouder than proud, would raise and lower the flag at ANZAC Day ceremonies in Kiama.
Then Covid hit, and he was deeply upset that government restrictions meant he could not pay his respects to fallen comrades, and could not wear, with pride, his own medals along with the medals of his father and his two brothers, all of whom also served.
And so neighbours, Glenn and Kerry Shepherd, decided to organise a small ANZAC Day ceremony at the bottom of Max’s driveway in Kiama Downs.
“We rallied around the neighbourhood and people wanted to be part of it,” he recalls. “Max has been a good friend and neighbour to us all and is highly regarded. Everyone was locked down, we were all told we couldn’t go. Then the government told us we could go to the end of our driveways and celebrate. So we decided to do it at the end of Max’s driveway.”
“We were probably doing the wrong thing, but we did it anyway. It has gotten bigger every year. For me, to see that man so proud when he stands there, why wouldn’t you be there. We show respect to our service people through Max.”
“If that’s not a good thing, what is?”
Max Hair, 93, honors Anzac Day at the bottom of his driveway in Kiama Downs.
That was 2020, and what began as a small, essentially humble event has grown in strength. Over the intervening years, other neighbours joined in with Glen to mark the spirit of the occasion, pinning paper poppies on their chests and setting up candles in their own driveways.
This year, some 30 neighbours and relatives gathered for the Dawn Service, led by Max himself.
His chest festooned with medals, he welcomed everyone in a clear, strong voice before relaying stories from his time in the navy, and reading out the famous Ode of Remembrance as his son lowers the Australian flag to half-mast:
They shall grow not old,
as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them,
nor the years condemn.
We shall remember them.
And then the playing of the last post as the sky lightens.
A relative read out the list of his medals, including one for good conduct, to which Max cheerfully cuts in: “I don’t know how I got that!”
Max, “Bunny”, joined the navy in 1948 and served in the Korean War. He is one of the last survivors of those with whom he served.
“It was a big part of my life being in the service. I am Navy through and through. My only regret is I didn’t talk my two boys into joining the Navy.”
Max Hair in his Navy days in the 1940's.
“As to the meaning of Anzac Day, I think of my father, and I think of the camaraderie. Remembrance.” And he laps into an unusual silence. “Remembrance, the service life. Most of them have gone by, have left now.”
An encounter with the Hair family leaves you with one impression, just how loving they are, including Old Max. You give love to receive it, and the biggest excitement in the family is the impending arrival of their fourth great grandchild. “He tells me every single day how much he loves me,” his wife of 65 years Josie says, beaming. “Max has been a wonderful husband. He was always for the family. We have been very, very lucky, and very very happy.”
The family pore over photograph albums, commenting with astonishment at some of the images of their father and grandfather when he was young.
Daughter Debby, who lives in Jamberoo and works at Shellharbour hospital, recalls when her father used to go up to Sydney for the Anzac Day march.
“When dad marched past us, he used to always break rank and come over and give us a cuddle,” she recalls.
This year's ceremony ended with Max thanking all the friends, relatives and neighbours who had shown up. “Next year will be bigger and better,” he declares.
It was only fitting Max would surprise his wife with a vow renewal ceremony in Kiama on their 60th wedding anniversary.
Josie suspected Max was up to something for a while - and when Max volunteered to drive on Saturday, her suspicions were confirmed.
Max and Josie Hair on their wedding day in 1959. Picture: Contributed
"I thought, 'Why are we going up there for coffee, I don't even like the coffee,'" she said.
Max parked the car near Peace Park and they were met by two of their grandchildren who were carrying flowers.
Surrounded by relatives, the Kiama Downs couple recited their original wedding vows at the park.
"He has always been there for me, he used to go and have a few beers with the fellas, but he's always been a family man," Josie said.
"Never a day goes past unless he tells me he loves me.
"I've never thought of leaving him, he has never thought of leaving me."
They first met while Max was serving in the navy in 1958, and married on February 28, 1959.
Together they have raised three children. They now have four grandchildren and have recently become great-grandparents. And like any long-term relationship, challenges have cropped up.
"We’ve had our ups and downs, our illnesses, our little domestic fights," Josie said.
Josie and Max Hair renew their vows at Kiama's Peace Park on Saturday to celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary. Picture: Contributed
"I do most of the driving now, it's a little frustrating for him. When I park on my own, I drive in nice and straight, with Maxie it always seems to be on a slant, or with more room on one side rather than the other."
Josie is thankful to have outlasted many of their dearest friends.
"We are very lucky to be here," Josie said.
"We still have each other."
Max and Josie hope to continue their happy life together doing the things they love - bowling, going on cruises and spending time with friends and family.
