Unrecognized Socialism


I received this Email from a fellow firefighter friend:

Rick Moran

A local neighborhood is furious after firefighters watched as an Obion County, Tennessee, home burned to the ground.

The homeowner, Gene Cranick, said he offered to pay whatever it would take for firefighters to put out the flames, but was told it was too late. They wouldn’t do anything to stop his house from burning.

Each year, Obion County residents must pay $75 if they want fire protection from the city of South Fulton. But the Cranicks did not pay.

The mayor said if homeowners don’t pay, they’re out of luck.

This fire went on for hours because garden hoses just wouldn’t put it out. It wasn’t until that fire spread to a neighbor’s property, that anyone would respond.

Turns out, the neighbor had paid the fee.

“I thought they’d come out and put it out, even if you hadn’t paid your $75, but I was wrong,” said Gene Cranick.

Bottom line: the firefighters were there and they should have put the fire out. Standing by and doing nothing was cruel.

Daniel Foster at National Review discusses some of the issues, including the moral dimension but this is really a simple matter; there are some things government should do and one of them is creating and maintaining a fire department. Voluntary participation in a fire district is stupid and self defeating. The man whose house burned down shouldn’t have been billed; he should have been taxed. And if the town didn’t have the ability to tax him, then the state, or the county, or the township should do so and pass on the money to the fire district.

Libertarianism is a fine thing – until you’re being raped or your house burns down. Then it becomes clear that there are limits to voluntary participation in government.

The following is my Rant… I mean reply.

Until just recently(last 100 years), this was the way all departments were setup. It was the precursor of fire insurance. Beats the shit out of the property tax screwing we now have. The current scheme is nothing more or less than socialism. Why should I have to pay for the equipment and staff necessary to fight the fire at a neighbor’s home because they haven’t taken the safety precautions I have.

Where I use to live some neighbors refused to cut the pretty trees near their homes, in some cases these idiots would build a wood deck AROUND a tree. On the other hand, I created hundreds of feet of defensible space. When the Missionary ridge fire came raging through, most of my neighbor’s homes were lost, but mine wasn’t. However the firefighters wasted thousands of man hours and dollars trying to save these homes that stupid choices selected to burn.

Where we currently live I have cut ACRES of defensible space around our home, I spent big bucks for top-of-the-line electrical equipment, installed my own private high volume pressurized fire hydrant, lightning rod, grounded chimneys, and other common sense fire precautions. I refuse to expect someone else to pay for my own laziness, cheapness or stupidity.

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Why I Support a Flat Tax…Again


Since Montana has slipped back into winter and I can’t work outside and detailing Roberta (the wood cook stove) took only two days here’s a lil’ agitatin’ for you all.

A long long time ago, it seems like last century…Oh yeah, it was, I thought the idea to tax everyone at the same rate was kind of clever and definitely fairer than the graduated/sliding scale madness we had…Still have. This was back before I realized taxation was nothing more than pimped out robbery.

Theft, plain old fashioned gun in your face theft is all taxation is. Sure the guys who ultimately show up holding the guns have tin badges… even though now days you won’t see them because when they show up they will be wearing all black and have nothing shiny on. In a most revealing case of irony they will also be wearing those same types of masks bank robbers wear. They won’t scream “your money, or your life,” because if they have come they will be collecting them both.

They will steal every cent you have, either through fines and penalties or through the money you will have to pay a lawyer in an attempt to avoid switching what little freedom you still have for a florescent orange jumpsuit. They will take all your money. An excellent Randian argument can be made that by taking the fruits of your labor they have taken your life, but these bastards aren’t kidding around they will take the whole lump sum, if you stop voluntarily giving them the payments.

I haven’t read the SWAT team manual so this is all deduced from actual events involving them; however their first rule after breaking down the door in the middle of the night is to shoot the family dog. If the family lacks a dog, they will kick the cat, bludgeon the parrot or asphyxiate the family’s pet fish. This is a critical step in informing the citizen that they have made a bad tax decision. This procedure has replaced the old fashioned “Police, open up,” statement. If the home owner makes any attempt to protect their property or family the tax collectors will shoot them, dead, usually in front of their spouse and kids.

I might have gotten a little carried away there and provided more information than the average American wants to hear, but I wanted to explain exactly how hard it was for me to embrace any type of taxation again. Now, I will explain exactly why I do support a Flat Tax … again, and also explain that for the exact reason that I support it is why it will never ever happen.

A mind numbingly large percentage of this country actually makes money…wait that’s the wrong phrasing…receives stolen money because of our current tax system. Like the pimps that live near some of them, when April 15th comes around they aren’t complaining about deductions or 1099s all they are thinking is “Bitch had better have my money.” In this case…like most cases involving the government, you, the tax payer, are the bitch.

But my good reader is probably still wondering why I have gone back to supporting a flat tax. Some I won’t name names (like Kirsten or FF) have probably made mental if not actual written “smack down notes” as they have read this because of the title.

So here’s the beef….the meat….the whole enchilada; I want those inner-city, hillbilly and suburban hand-out sucking non-productive leechlike members of society as pissed off as I am. Not only would this make me feel a sense of justice has returned to my life, but a pissed off section of population that has nothing to lose is exactly what we need right now.

Change didn’t come from electing a black president. Hell, it wouldn’t have mattered if the president was a black lesbian woman who was born in Mali. The government’s only desire is to preserve the status quo, they don’t want change. If you want to see change like this country hasn’t seen since the 1700’s picture it with a flat tax…picture what all those welfare queens would do if instead of receiving thousands of dollars a year they had to start paying taxes.

I Lost a Friend


I lost a friend the other day. Not a flesh and blood friend but a whole internet community. I joined a writer’s forum when I decided to start writing again. This was a neat little community composed of members from all over the world. I made several flesh and blood friends there who I’m sure will be reading this, so I better say “Hi” to at least Penny, Link, and Jon before going any further. Right off the bat I had some problems with the moderation policy but chose to voluntarily censor myself in order to be part of the community. It was private property and I understood (and respected) exactly what that meant. I thought everything was going smoothly until I posted a picture of a couple of firearms I own. This picture was in a thread specifically for the purpose of off topic (non-writer related) pictures. It was deleted and one of the moderators posted a tirade (In thirty point red characters) about how “heavy weaponry” was inappropriate. I went and reread the contract I agreed to (the rules) and couldn’t find anything that could possibly backup that statement. I decided I needed to explain myself, since I was getting the feeling that he and possibly others had an incorrect view of who I was. I also wanted to get to the root of the rabid anti-gun sentiment. So I made the following “blog” post there:

I very rarely explain myself, so anyone reading this should feel very privileged. I feel if someone makes false assumptions they will eventually get what they deserve. However, since I felt so at ease here maybe I didn’t explain my position as fully as I should have before voicing some of my more radical views (or “offensive” pictures.)….
….I believe every single person on the face of this planet has the same rights. More specifically I believe any person can do whatever they want as long as those actions don’t interfere with anyone else’s ability to do the same. Because of this I argue with religious fundamentalists (Christian/Jewish/Muslim) about their church’s policies of religious persecution against other religions. I argue with liberals about their belief they can deprive people of methods of self-defense (gun laws.) I argue with conservatives about their belief they can tell others what they can ingest (drug laws.) I argue with both liberals and conservatives about the theft of other’s labors (taxes.) I argue with conservatives about this country’s neo-imperialism (the war in Iraq). I argue with liberals about property rights (environmental laws.) I argue with conservatives about civil rights (The 1984esque Big Bother surveillance state.)I argue with liberals about “affirmative action”. I argue with conservatives about their opinions about homosexuals. I argue with anyone who thinks zoning/planning is not a violation of property rights. I argue with everyone about immigration laws (there shouldn’t be any.) However, in this case I’m not arguing for any actions on the recent event but feel I have a right to explain myself.

I don’t believe anybody can deprive another person of any of their Rights. My writing and posts will almost always reflect this. If this poses an insurmountable problem for members here I will stop sharing my work and opinions.

I know I followed the rules for the picture thread in “The Lounge” that ****** had posted just a few pages prior to my post e.g. It was a picture that I had taken. Even though it didn’t violate the board rules by being pornographic, racist, spam, illegal (I legally own all the items*that were in the picture) etc. I apologize for missing the rule stating nothing could be considered scary by anyone at anytime for any reason. In my defense I hadn’t expected to find such a rule in a forum that should encourage creativity, and that must be why I missed it.

*The pictured items in question were firearms. These tools of equalization should not be feared by anyone. The smallest one pictured my wife carries everyday and because of that I never worry about her being raped or murdered just because someone is physically stronger than her. The middle sized one is a MBR (Main Battle Rifle) this is a semi-auto version of the current U.S. military infantryman’s weapon. I have used that weapon to kill only once; when a bear that had killed several of my baby goats attacked one of our nannies in her goat house. The largest weapon is a .50BMG it is the largest firearm most Americans can legally own. I say most because ownership is illegal in some states like California and New York, but here in Montana it is commonly owned. (Even larger weapons can be legally owned in this country if an individual pays a fifty dollar tax.) That weapon is capable of easily killing beyond 1000 yards (1 Kilometer.) However it has never be shot at anything besides lifeless targets. I love guns. I love the thrill of shooting them. I love the beauty of the craftsmanship that is required to make them, but most of all I love the freedom they guarantee. A fact that should be better known is that all genocides in history were preceded by government imposed firearm restrictions. Millions of Russians Stalin murdered (including a fair number of writers), the Cambodians (also including a large number of writers) that were sent to “The Killing Fields”, and the Jews in Warsaw in 1943 all should have taken firearm ownership more seriously. If they had they would have had a better chance of not being murdered.

The following are some thoughts on this topic by the founders of my country:

Before a standing army can rule, the people must be disarmed; as they are in almost every kingdom in Europe. The supreme power in America cannot enforce unjust laws by the sword; because the whole body of the people are armed, and constitute a force superior to any band of regular troops that can be, on any pretense, raised in the United States. A military force, at the command of Congress, can execute no laws, but such as the people perceive to be just and constitutional; for they will possess the power, and jealousy will instantly inspire the inclination, to resist the execution of a law which appears to them unjust and oppressive.
—Noah Webster, An Examination of the Leading Principles of the Federal Constitution (Philadelphia 1787).

Who are the militia? Are they not ourselves? Is it feared, then, that we shall turn our arms each man gainst his own bosom. Congress have no power to disarm the militia. Their swords, and every other terrible implement of the soldier, are the birthright of an American…[T]he unlimited power of the sword is not in the hands of either the federal or state governments, but, where I trust in God it will ever remain, in the hands of the people.
—Tenche Coxe, The Pennsylvania Gazette, Feb. 20, 1788.

[W]hen the resolution of enslaving America was formed in Great Britain, the British Parliament was advised by an artful man, who was governor of Pennsylvania, to disarm the people; that it was the best and most effectual way to enslave them; but that they should not do it openly, but weaken them, and let them sink gradually…I ask, who are the militia? They consist of now of the whole people, except a few public officers. But I cannot say who will be the militia of the future day. If that paper on the table gets no alteration, the militia of the future day may not consist of all classes, high and low, and rich and poor…
—George Mason

Because of this post I was able to engage the two moderators in a discussion about what happened. They claimed it (the picture) violated the rules because it wasn’t writer related. I then asked one of them how a picture of his dog he had just posted in that same thread was “writer related” and he backtracked and said the picture was “offensive”. I argued quite successfully (I believe) against this point. I was successful if measured by the fact they stopped debating it. I took the high road and didn’t even need to point out that that same thread had pictures a member had taken of herself half-naked, bound in handcuffs and gagged, (which incidentally I liked even more than my gun picture.)

I thought that was the end of it, and was quite proud of being able to dispel some common misconceptions about firearm ownership. However, the next day three members that a friend of mine would classify as “Euro-pussies” except for the surprising “Aussie-pussy” posted emotional based arguments about how guns are “vulgar barbaric killing machines”. I tried to get these members to put aside emotions and try some logical debate but to no avail. I doubt they even looked at the excellent JPFO (Jews for the Preservation of Firearm Ownership) genocide and gun laws correlation chart I linked:

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http://www.jpfo.org/

I eventual got them to, if not reevaluate their positions, to at least shut up with the following post:

“So you three would support a blanket ban of all Israeli and Swiss members here since they must be barbaric killers because they are required by their laws to own and know how to use firearms.”

The next day when I logged in I found out I had been banned with no type of explanation. They also Memory Holed almost all of my substantial posts. The exceptions to the purge were every single short story I had shared there. I suspect they kept these to lend a sense of credibility to the board. Oh well, good bye. Sometimes it takes a little while to discover someone you thought was your friend really isn’t.

Thankfully I still have, if not my oldest, my dearest internet forum. Ironically enough I suspect the percentage of members who have been published there is higher than at the writer’s forum I was banned from. It’s a place where all the rules can be summed up in ten words; nothing illegal, no spam, and no disclosure of other’s personal information. Only once were moderator actions used there (for a death threat) and even that was debated by all the board’s members including the member who made the threat. It’s the kind of place where an original member of the CPC (Certain Persons Cabal) like me can feel free and write whatever I want without worry of censorship. Sometimes posts are not made in the best place, or a thread might be “jacked” way beyond recognition, or a booby picture might be posted but I can live with that. Like Benjamin Franklin said:

“They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

Since I believe in all forms of freedom including the freedom of expression, I welcome anyone who disagrees with any of this post to share their opinions as a comment. I do not moderate and I promise any comments will not be edited as long as they comply with the very loose rules of my favorite forum; nothing illegal, no spam, and no disclosure of other’s personal information.

The “horribly offensive, vulgar, barbaric, killing machines” picture:
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See the malicious twinkle in the eyepiece of the scope? Can’t you just sense them plotting to murder babies as they sit there?

Beginnings


The man went by many names. He wasn’t sure which he would use when he sent his current work out into the world, or even where it might end up. Of course he wasn’t thinking about this now. He was running his fingers through his thick beard. He was proud of his beard and rightly so, not many people could grow such luxurious facial hair. He found that this action helped him put his thoughts in order. He was struggling to start a story. The blinking curser seemed to mock him like an impatient driver waiting in a car in front of a house honking the horn.

“How does a person sum up such a full life in five hundred words?” He mumbled. The logs that he had shaped with his own hands into the home surrounding him offered no answers. Then his eyes widened, his posture straightened and his fingers sought the keys in front of him. Using three fingers of each hand in a way that would send any typing teacher into fits, he started writing.

He typed: “The boy sat in the Junior High school library. A book titled Edible Native Plants of the Rocky Mountains lay open if front of him. He had started spending his recesses in the library studying to be a mountain man ever since the suspension. He was suspended for selling bubblegum filled suckers on the school grounds. Last week when he was sitting in front of the principle he was too ashamed to admit his family’s poverty as the reason for selling the candy. He had wrongly believed the fact that the exact same candy was sold by the school store would save him. His arguments about capitalism and the American dream had no effect… ”

The man shook his head and pressing the backspace key erased all he had written. “Screw this,” he said as he closed the laptop and pulled some papers out of a manila folder next to him. The sharp lines on the sheets showed his building projects for the coming summer. He shuffled through the blueprints for the attached greenhouse, the third floor writing room, and the mine adit to his root cellar. His face brightened as he reached the sheet with the mechanical engineering diagram for the complicated power dump to water heating schematic. He pulled a drafting pencil out of the same manila folder the plans had come from. With the pencil poised over the sheet he studied it for several minutes. With a sigh he realized that all the planning that could be done was already done. He placed the plans and the pencil back in the folder and reopened the laptop.

He typed: “The man had arrived an hour early to smuggle in the protest signs. These signs were now safely hid behind his chair in the back of the room. He fidgeted, the rest of his group wouldn’t arrive for some time and he was getting bored. He spotted a piece of chalk on the table at the front of the room where the planning commission would be giving the press conference. With a huge smile on his face he walked to the front of the room and wrote “6:00PM- Fascism in Action” on the chalkboard behind the podium. He had just returned to his seat when the local access TV station crew showed up and started setting up their equipment….”

“It’s all crap” The man said as he once again erased all the words he had just typed. He rose from where he was typing and walked downstairs to the huge pantry. The pantry had originally been designed to be a dining room but his wife had persuaded him to convert it into a cool room to store their long term food storage. He told friends it was so large in case they ever got snowed in for the winter. He didn’t ever mention the times when they were so poor that they couldn’t afford to buy food for weeks and these provisions kept his family from going hungry. He walked the thirteen feet down the aisle looking at the thousands of pounds of food most resting safely on shelves in canning jars he had processed himself. He wasn’t really hungry and nothing appealed to him. Closing the insulated door he returned to his writing area and once again opened the computer.

He typed: “The sun shone off the vintage Airstream, blinding the drivers of the trucks that occasionally thundered past. Dry rolling hills with sparse clumps of sage and cheat grass lay beyond a large rectangular sign. The sign was old splintered wood with flaking brown paint. Carved deeply into the ancient wood were the words “Welcome to Montana”. A man was rubbing the sign in a way that was almost a caress. A woman was walking a dog along the fence behind the sign. A boy ran up to the man with a deer horn that was bleached to a ghostly white.
“Look what I found dad,” the boy said.
“Yup…. Well, we finally made it. Get your mother, sister and the dogs over here. I want a picture.”
After the boy ran off the man felt himself holding back tears. Years of planning had led to this moment. “A new life,” he thought to himself. Then he thought of the six figure cashier check locked safely in the fireproof safe hidden in the camper and smiled. It was a smile that advertised hope and freedom….”

“I can’t write that, there’s no ending. I haven’t finished that story in my life yet.” The man said as he deleted it. “Screw it. It’s just a stupid writing contest. It’s not like there is even a cash prize.” He shut off the computer and wandered downstairs. While feeding the woodstove decided to go check for eggs, feed the goats and water his new mushroom spawn.

Published in: on March 26, 2010 at 12:18 am  Comments (15)  
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Book Suggestion


I just got done rereading Terry Pratchett’s Carpe Jugulum (some spoilers in link) This is IMNSHO the best of his Discworld series. He takes on different styles of government and their aspects of “voluntary” servitude with his famous satire and wit. Oh, and for those that have read others of the Discworld series this one has all the witches including the split-personality Agnes Nitt (aka Perdita), vampires, an Igor and his hundred year old dog Scraps. Also included are one of my favorites The Nac Mac Feegles (also known as the Wee Free Men, the Little Men, ‘Person or Persons Unknown, Believed to be Armed’, and occasionally ‘The Defendants’)

Published in: on June 3, 2009 at 8:36 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Quicky Today


Socialized medicine and debt.

I was just reading an article and watching the slide show showing the worlds fifteen largest debtor nations here: http://www.cnbc.com/id/30308959?slide=2

As I was looking at these global leaders of debt, I realized that every one of these nations, except us (#15) have been used by socialized medicine proponents as models of what they want here. I think there is a very revealing correlation between level of debt and socialized medicine.

Published in: on May 27, 2009 at 8:41 pm  Leave a Comment  
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The Puppet Theater Tamed


This is a re-write with some extra material to un-rant and try to essayize The Puppet Theater.

Amalgamating Factions

How does one go about uniting radical Obama fans, died-in-wool Bush fans, and hard-core Ron Paul fans? It’s really quite easy; just explain they are all being hoodwinked by the same sham. It’s like a person who got taken advantage of by a slick-talking used car salesman. They will defend what they bought because to do different would mean they would have to admit their stupidity to themselves. This same response seems to be universal with everyone who votes and is inevitably double-crossed on campaign promises. (more…)


Well here we are again in the building season so here are some pics. I’ll try to get to my census, and gun rights rant I’m barely keeping bottled up soon. There is time to laugh at my buddy B who’s been trying to sell his property at 80% of it’s taxed value for the last year but was notified that his taxed value went up last year. The thin veil is slipping away.

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I had some pics of the 130 seedlings but the ghost of my camera claimed them for its self.

Published in: on May 7, 2009 at 3:24 am  Comments (7)  
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Damn Lefties, Hippies, Pinkos, and New Yorkers!


That Village Voice guy calling my place a compound is really pissing me off the more I think about it. If I had happened to share his political ideology, and he ran across my blog I’m sure he would have called us something like a organic, free-range, sustainable, fair trade (I give the chickens grain, they give me eggs and we all feel it’s a fair trade) self-sufficient permaculture homestead. But no, since I don’t think Obama is the next Jesus Christ, or listen to The Dead or Phish or whatever so I have a compound. Just to set the record straight for anyone who wants to give my property a label from now on. It’s official name is Goat’s Gulch, we sometimes call it The Gulch, or The Homestead. I don’t have any artillery, armored vehicles, guard towers, or concertina wire. Fuck, it’s not even fenced or gated. (more…)

Tea Party


Until recently the funnest thing I’d ran across relating to a tea party was This.

We (WR and I) have been invited to a private Tea Party on the fifteenth and are really looking forward to it.

Bob Beckel appeared on Fox News this morning to sneer at the nationwide event[Tea Parties]. He derided tax revolters in Montana, joking that “It was a good thing it wasn’t a vodka party, because I guarantee you they all had guns.”

Fucking A right, Bubba! You should bring that winning sense of humor on up and see what you won.

Keeping with the fun theme, I finished our taxes and we will be applying some of our refund to a bulk buy of these to hand out around here.

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I would like to thank you all who are still paying taxes for your contribution for these. But, don’t worry this time it really is for the children!

Published in: on April 8, 2009 at 11:38 pm  Leave a Comment  
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