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February 1, 2007
"I talk to the wind/My words are all carried away /I talk to the wind /The wind does not hear/The wind cannot hear."
So sang King Crimson way back in 1969, and these lyrics are especially poignant (if considerably more vile) when we substitute "bureaucrat" for "wind." Go ahead and do that right now and see what I mean.
It may be an IRS agent when you ask -- better yet, demand -- to see what law, if any, makes you liable for an "income" tax. It may be a cop ( Exeter ) when you ask what law prevents you from carrying an unconcealed firearm -- especially at your own place of residence (fortunately, not a problem in Vermont ). It may be some piggish group of town ( Kingston ) selectmen who threaten to hit you with a fine for holding yard sales in violation of some pretended zoning restriction. It may be a judge (Portsmouth) who both simultaneously "represents" the State and who is an employee of same -- while allegedly maintaining "impartiality" -- who hears all the facts without any meaningful rebuttal from the State attorney who in turn is representing a cop who refuses to take the witness stand (who in turn "represents" and is employed by the State [Town of Exeter]), and who then rules against you, the plaintiff -- the mere peon citizen-slave demanding his rights -- anyway. In virtually all cases, you'd have better success getting straight answers from a brick wall and straight justice from Satan. I know; as should be apparent, I've been there in every one of the aforementioned instances (and yup, you guessed it: all of them were in New Hampshire , that "Live Free or Die" paradise). Their job descriptions are nothing but window dressing, friends; Willie Wonka style candy coating. When the veneer is stripped away, a bureaucrat is a salivating jackal who uses violence or the very real threat of it to accomplish EVERYTHING. They are not part of society, which operates on a voluntary basis, but part of a separate, far more sinister cabal altogether. And their real business is to leech off of the productive at the point of a gun while they in turn produce nothing.
"I'm on the outside/Looking inside/What do I see?/ Much confusion, disillusion/All around me."
Avant-garde though it may well be even now, there's a fair bit of wisdom on the album In the Court of the Crimson King: An Observation by King Crimson. We can find some more in the lyrics to "Epitaph: March For No Reason/Tomorrow And Tomorrow": "Knowledge is a deadly friend/When no one sets the rules/The fate of all mankind I see/Is in the hands of fools." That was, again, 1969. Do current events convince you those words are any less relevant today? However that, they speak to the wider world vista, the lunatics at the peak of globalist power pyramids with their armies and aircraft carriers and nuclear weapons. Most of us are more than busy -- for now, at least -- dealing with more mundane closer-to-home forms of tyranny: Heavy taxes, rogue cops, corrupt judges, con-artist lawyers and petty, tinpot government do-gooders of every variety. In addressing them, there's another excellent stanza from "I Talk to the Wind" which sums up my position pretty well. I'd like to dedicate it to bureaucrats everywhere:
"You don't possess me/Don't impress me/Just upset my mind/Can't instruct me or conduct me/Just use up my time."
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