Pray, consider the plight of the modern traveller! It appears that the gentlemen in the high offices of Japan, possessing a thirst for revenue that would make a London moneylender blush, have seen fit to triple the tax for those wishing to depart their shores. Since the first of July, the fee has leaped from a modest thousand yen to a staggering three thousand—a sum that would surely cause a thrifty clerk to clutch his waistcoat in horror!
This levy, one might observe, is most democratic in its greed; it falls upon every soul leaving the country, regardless of birth or rank. The sum is deftly woven into the price of one's ticket, whether by air or by sea, ensuring that the traveller pays his tribute before he even smells the salt of the ocean.
Now, let us speak of the profit—the true motive of any commercialist! Hitherto, this tax yielded some fifty billion yen to the Imperial coffers. However, with this new decree, the Exchequer expects an additional windfall of some one hundred and twenty billion yen. A magnificent profit! One can almost imagine the bureaucrats dancing a jig as they count these newly acquired coins.
The government, with a straight face and a flourish of their pens, claims these funds shall be employed to combat the 'excesses' of tourism. Indeed, they wish to tidy up the chaos brought about by the throngs of foreigners who descend upon them like locusts upon a wheat field.
But wait, there is more! In a move that would delight the most diligent Scotland Yard detective, the immigration service announced in May that they shall establish a specialized unit to spy upon the 'social networks' and other electronic pamphlets of the age. Their goal? To hunt down the unscrupulous rogue, the illegal labourer, and the foreigner whose visa has expired—essentially turning the internet into a vast, digital ledger of delinquents.
Truly, it is a marvelous age of commerce and surveillance, where one must pay a premium simply for the privilege of leaving, all while the state watches one's every digital whisper!