Of all the tax payments I make in a year, either direct or indirect, the largest cheque I’m compelled to write has to be registered in Her Majesty’s Treasury by January the 1st, each year. This is so Gordon Brown can then burn it, of course, on even more government regulation, on even more government corruption, and on even more government waste. And today was the last day free for me to get the ink onto the paper.
Ho ho ho, Gordon. I hope you choke on it.
Having just returned from the Post Office, where I schlepped the loot over, I wondered whether the British state has ever had it so easy. The Sheriff of Nottingham, in Robin Hood’s day, had to go round digging up peasants’ gardens, to see if they’d buried any taxable wheat. Here, in modern Britain, even one of Professor Hans-Hermann Hoppe’s (slightly critical) Austro-libertarian extremist disciples will calmly walk into a government controlled bank, and just hand the loot over, knowing full well that every penny of this hard-earned moolah will be wasted on Guardian Reader parasites.
No, not every penny. Most of it will be wasted on Guardian Reader parasites. The rest of it will be spent on making the life of this humble Austro-libertarian even worse, with an even greater intrusion into his life, and an even greater government commitment to increase the regulation over his already over-regulated life. Don’t ya just love state socialism! And there he was, the libertarian fool, desperately trying to make sure he got the cash in ‘on time’, and making sure he got a dated receipt for it, ‘just in case’ some drunken government half-wit, on January 2nd, pulls a sickie holiday, and fails to register my payment until after the ‘deadline’. Can you imagine asking a mugger for a receipt, and then making sure they get the full amount from your wallet, in plenty of time for the bus, without going to the trouble of threatening you for it?
This institution of monopolised judicial state control and taxation is a madness, and I must do something about it. I can’t just sit here and take this government abuse any more. I must help Professor Hoppe in his quest to free the world.
Should I pick up a Kalashnikov and run down Whitehall seeking out that fat slob Gordon Brown? No, I’ll only end up dead. Should I run back to the Post Office to grab the cheque and rip it up? No, I’ll only end up in jail.
No, it’s time to be radical. I shall order the Professor’s new book, The Myth of National Defense. With it I shall try to remove my own personal stumbling block on the final road to full Austro-libertarianism, namely the big question over societal defence and security.
Hey, I know it’s not much, and it’ll be slow getting to me because I’ve ordered it on standard shipping from American Amazon in a grouped consignment with Ludwig von Mises’ slow-to-order Bureaucracy. But it’s the best I can do without a government agent either filling me with lead or placing me behind bars.
And no, it doesn’t amuse me that I paid for the lead, or that I paid for the steel in the bars. What does amuse me is that I wrote out the cheque to ‘The Post Office Limited’, a privatised Post Office counters company, because despite the valiant attempts of the British state to control everything that moves in this country, even the old government Post Office monopoly is being broken up by the malevolence of evil market forces. Why? Because even with a government-protected monopoly, it’s considered a financial triumph if the government-owned Post Office delivery service doesn’t lose more than a billion pounds in a single fiscal year.
And long may this break-up process continue. For my New Year’s resolution is to try to play my part in the break-up of the British state, for as long as I can draw breath.
Though I do hope the Professor’s philosophical ammunition gets to me before Easter.
Here’s to hoping that with his help one day we will all be free.
Happy New Year!