When I was a kid I always wanted to be an astronaut when I grew up. I used to sit in my bedroom at night and stare out the window at the stars, wondering what the earth would look like if I were up there in a spaceship looking down. I imagined it to be a beautiful sight, with oceans and mountains and clouds and volcanoes and airplanes criss-crossing the sky between me and the sleeping families down below. I had a lot more trouble imagining what it would look like when the spaceship went around the bottom of the planet — what does the underside of the earth look like, anyway? Would it be just lots of dirt with all the tree roots sticking out? Can you see all the oil that hasn’t been pumped up yet and the bottoms of coffins and stuff?
But my point is that never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would be an accountant when I grew up. Not many people know that I was an accountant before I was in control of the Senate; humble beginnings, I can hear you say, but from little things big things grow. As an accountant I probably have a much more intimate knowledge of economic and taxation matters than most ordinary Australians, and I often have to step in at dinner parties and in meetings with colleagues to pour some hard facts on uniformed speculation. Like this one time, Barnaby suggested that we should just print more money to pay off debt and I gently scolded him, pointing out that the cost of the extra plastic and ink would completely wipe out any benefit gained.
