Take back your rights!

Blog of personal philosophy, advocating liberty.

Sunday, April 17, 2005


A couple of the better bloggers have been discussing taxes and the withholding aspect.
Back in the 1940s or so, a businessman named A.G. Heinsohn, who owned and operated Cherokee Knitting Mill in Sevierville, Tennessee (now more famous for Dolly Parton), aroused the ire of the Infernal Revenue "Service."
It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.
Worst because the country was still living in the delusional fantasy that the socialist program promulgated by Franklin del Ano Roosevelt and his mis-called "New Deal" were benefitting anyone but the wheeler-dealers and bureaucrats; best because working people were still being paid weekly and in what was called "cash," though actually it was Federal Reserve Notes -- although the coins, at least, had some intrinsic value.
Mr. Heinsohn had waged a war of his own while the nation was engaged with the overseas fascists and socialists: He had been fighting, in self-defense, against some of those "New Deal" bureaucrats who were constantly demanding that forms be filled out and that the mills submit to various regulations.
Mr. Heinsohn told them, over and over and over, he couldn't obey certain rules because he didn't make the kinds of fabrics for which those rules were meant.
The bureaucrats would again demand compliance.
Finally the war, the one with the cannons and atomic bombs, ended.
The one with the bureaucrats continued.
Mr. Heinsohn escalated things a bit. He, in fact, went on the offensive.
His employees continued getting their weekly pay envelope, but Mr. Heinsohn started letting them have their "deducts," too. He gave each employee a separate envelope, filled with the amount of money demanded be deducted by the feral government. The worker was allowed to take it home for the weekend, to fondle, perhaps, and yearn over, but he had to return it on Monday, to be forwarded to the ferals.
Based on what reasoning and on what alleged laws I have never learned, but eventually Mr. Heinsohn was ordered to cease and desist in that nefarious practice.
For one brief shining moment, the very working man who was so allegedly loved and honored by the feral government and its component socialists, and fascists, was being allowed to see the actual amount he individually was "contributing" to the cause, the cause of the working man's enslavement.
The elitist socialists, and fascists, do actually know one thing: Don't let the workers learn the truth.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Each man's death ...

When Father Karol Wojtyla was named pope, there were, of course, the jokes: “Pope Pole the First will wallpaper the Sistine Chapel.”
I like the following better, only in part because it’s mine: “What do you call a person who speaks three languages?”
“What do you call a person who speaks two languages?”
“What do you call a person who speaks only one language?”
An American.
“What do you call a person who speaks eight languages?”
Pope John Paul II.
Perhaps because it followed so closely after the killing of Terri Schiavo, John Paul’s passing – being forecast, being prematurely announced, being expected though it was – was still emotionally wrenching, even to this non-Catholic.
I was in my car, on my way to a friend’s, listening to – of all things – National Public Radio’s “news” broadcast and the segment of the announcement concluded with a musical selection: Leonardo De Amicis’ rendering of John Paul’s reading of the Beatitudes.
Perhaps I am supposed to be embarrassed, but I just sat in my car, bawling like a baby.
All the passion of the day and the previous days, all the sorrow of the departure of a great man, all the drama of the passing of a humane and decent person, all combined to overwhelm me and my emotions.
Lots of stories have been told of his humanity, of his decency, of his strength, of his courage.
One short segment of videotape, though, will always stick in my mind as symbolizing Pope John Paul II: Some tourists, probably American, were chanting, “We love you.”
He raised his hand and, apparently shifting mental gears to get into English, responded, “I … love … you … more.”
The world, with all its continuing problems and miseries, became a better place because of him.
Rest In Peace, Karol Wojtyla, Pope John Paul II.