All bets are off...
Okay, I have reached the breaking point. I only post about every other week or so; like Edgar Allen Poe and Dylan Thomas, I delude myself that I write better when I’ve had a snort or three, and my fine Kentucky whiskey coincidentally gets delivered on a bi-weekly basis. The circumstances of today's news makes me want to drink and forget about the one party rule of this country. Watching the start of the Obama administration, I don’t think I have ever seen a president in so much in trouble since Tricky Dick’s boys got caught wandering around The Watergate without their room keys.
My significant other has trouble with the IRS. I keep urging her to call or e-mail the tax collectors and state that their head [new Treasury Secretary Geithner] doesn’t pay his taxes, so why should she? I meet immense resistance; we both know how the government works. If you actively resist taxes, the government will indeed show up at your door with men with guns, and the SWAT snipers will kill you the instant you tell them to get off your property. President Obama named one of Janet Reno's henchmen/killers for Ministry of "Justice". [That Holder puke.] Active resistance to paying taxes results in having your family ultimately arrested, your property seized, and prison sentences that surpass Cassius Clay’s resistance to the draft in the 1960s. ("No Viet Cong ever called me 'nigger'," but what the Hell.)
A whole bunch of President Obama’s nominees have been disqualified for their respective offices because, like me, they resent paying taxes. My significant other just started a new job; I know a W-2 and withholding taxes [i.e. pocket-picking] are part of the arrangement.
And they’re going to spend her money on what?
It’s her money, damn you! She should be allowed to have a say in what it’s spent on. The faulty science of global warming, cable converter boxes, and new sod divots for the DC mall, and wads of cash for the election-stealing PAC ACORN should not be on the table. I pay nothing in federal tax because of my disability, but that does nothing to soothe my outrage at the extortion of other good Americans.
I heard valid arguments that $500K salary caps are fair for Wall St. executives who go begging for federal dollars. I remember little of what I was taught in college, but one word leaps to mind: socialism. The state controls the means of production. Yeah, it’s still private ownership, and those fat cats are not comporting themselves well, but they are feeding into the frenzy of Left Coast values that knows no end and will result in America becoming an emasculated European copy of failed socialist/secular values. If I had the brains to run a legitimate Wall St. corporation with successful investments, or even the criminal enterprise of Madoff’s Ponzi scheme, I’d be a happy camper. Hell—I watched a documentary about the North Hollywood BOA failed robbery in the ‘90s, and the much-televised shootout—I have to admire to sociopaths because they were saying they’d go down like gunfighters, and despite the fact that a lot of my friends are law-enforcement people, you have to hand it someone who sticks to their word. The bad guys died.
My point is, they scored $300,000 on that one hit, and over a million on another, and thought it was small change. They were angry. Can Messiah Obama possibly write me a check for $250,000? I will invest it wisely, through my broker Ed Jones, who hangs out in a phone booth in Times Square. ["Eddie here..."] I’ll pay my taxes, including dog parks in California and Frisbee golf courses in Texas.
I heard the “stimulus” package had been revised. Then I heard it had gone from $800B to $915B. Those are billions, kids, with six zeroes, to trillions. That’s $915,000,000,000. A billion is one thousand million. A trillion—which we’re looking at now for a starter—is one thousand billion. I may have my zeroes wrong; I was never any good at math. I hand my gold to Eddie Jones in that phone booth in Times Square and hope he comes through for me.
Send me a blue government check for a few hundred thousand. I’ll invest it happily, produce jobs (someone has to push my wheelchair around), and hire a few people—mostly illegal aliens, like the rest of the Presidential Cabinet—and be glad for the trickle-down.
I remember very little of what I was taught in college. One of the few things that stuck was a definition of socialism: the state controls the means of production. Pay for success by being beaten down and penalized. Yeah, capping CEO salaries at 500K appeals to what’s left of my help-the-people instinct. I have no doubt that we’re in trouble, the ramifications are reaching the distant Possum Den on the mountain. No one is immune. I have the left-handed instinct to punish the robber-barons with class warfare.
On the other hand, if you want a true economic success, give America a chance as the last superpower, and quit sweating the small stuff. Rule #1: 95% of everything is small stuff.
Before I forget his name—as I inevitably will—I want to quote Reverend J. Lee Petersen, a black minister. He referred to President Obama as “The Messiah” in a far more sarcastic way than I can ever summon. His repeated references to “The Messiah” reduced me to helpless giggling. I am not alone in my skepticism. I feel vindicated. An African-American repudiated Obama.
He’s out there naked. President Obama likes to relate to Abraham Lincoln, among others. Lincoln earns a place of respect in my home because he, too was out there naked, and kept the country together. It took a long time to overcome the heritage upbringing about the War of Northern Aggression, and a lot longer to understand Abe Lincoln. I think I have an adequate grasp on today’s issues.
I don’t care if Obama is blind, purple, green, or somewhere in between. I want an adequate government, and though I’ve tried to pour cold water over people a lot more resentful of Obama than I am, they resist and I am having my doubts.
I caution Constant Readers who have taken me to task. I made a promise. I’ll give you one chance to reply. We are getting inside the “100 days” zone. I have kept silence and played dead like all marsupial mammals do.
This is rapidly ending. My opinion, in the words of Grace Slick and Jefferson Airplane, “doesn’t mean shit to a tree”.
I am getting ready to revert to “Osama” as a pseudonym for Mr. Obama. I was partisan during the election, and now that he has won fair and square—except for paying election-stealing ACORN off, let’s not go there yet—I kept my promise and gave him a chance. What I see is rampant socialism, spending, and repaying debts to the Far Left. All bets are off.
My significant other has trouble with the IRS. I keep urging her to call or e-mail the tax collectors and state that their head [new Treasury Secretary Geithner] doesn’t pay his taxes, so why should she? I meet immense resistance; we both know how the government works. If you actively resist taxes, the government will indeed show up at your door with men with guns, and the SWAT snipers will kill you the instant you tell them to get off your property. President Obama named one of Janet Reno's henchmen/killers for Ministry of "Justice". [That Holder puke.] Active resistance to paying taxes results in having your family ultimately arrested, your property seized, and prison sentences that surpass Cassius Clay’s resistance to the draft in the 1960s. ("No Viet Cong ever called me 'nigger'," but what the Hell.)
A whole bunch of President Obama’s nominees have been disqualified for their respective offices because, like me, they resent paying taxes. My significant other just started a new job; I know a W-2 and withholding taxes [i.e. pocket-picking] are part of the arrangement.
And they’re going to spend her money on what?
It’s her money, damn you! She should be allowed to have a say in what it’s spent on. The faulty science of global warming, cable converter boxes, and new sod divots for the DC mall, and wads of cash for the election-stealing PAC ACORN should not be on the table. I pay nothing in federal tax because of my disability, but that does nothing to soothe my outrage at the extortion of other good Americans.
I heard valid arguments that $500K salary caps are fair for Wall St. executives who go begging for federal dollars. I remember little of what I was taught in college, but one word leaps to mind: socialism. The state controls the means of production. Yeah, it’s still private ownership, and those fat cats are not comporting themselves well, but they are feeding into the frenzy of Left Coast values that knows no end and will result in America becoming an emasculated European copy of failed socialist/secular values. If I had the brains to run a legitimate Wall St. corporation with successful investments, or even the criminal enterprise of Madoff’s Ponzi scheme, I’d be a happy camper. Hell—I watched a documentary about the North Hollywood BOA failed robbery in the ‘90s, and the much-televised shootout—I have to admire to sociopaths because they were saying they’d go down like gunfighters, and despite the fact that a lot of my friends are law-enforcement people, you have to hand it someone who sticks to their word. The bad guys died.
My point is, they scored $300,000 on that one hit, and over a million on another, and thought it was small change. They were angry. Can Messiah Obama possibly write me a check for $250,000? I will invest it wisely, through my broker Ed Jones, who hangs out in a phone booth in Times Square. ["Eddie here..."] I’ll pay my taxes, including dog parks in California and Frisbee golf courses in Texas.
I heard the “stimulus” package had been revised. Then I heard it had gone from $800B to $915B. Those are billions, kids, with six zeroes, to trillions. That’s $915,000,000,000. A billion is one thousand million. A trillion—which we’re looking at now for a starter—is one thousand billion. I may have my zeroes wrong; I was never any good at math. I hand my gold to Eddie Jones in that phone booth in Times Square and hope he comes through for me.
Send me a blue government check for a few hundred thousand. I’ll invest it happily, produce jobs (someone has to push my wheelchair around), and hire a few people—mostly illegal aliens, like the rest of the Presidential Cabinet—and be glad for the trickle-down.
I remember very little of what I was taught in college. One of the few things that stuck was a definition of socialism: the state controls the means of production. Pay for success by being beaten down and penalized. Yeah, capping CEO salaries at 500K appeals to what’s left of my help-the-people instinct. I have no doubt that we’re in trouble, the ramifications are reaching the distant Possum Den on the mountain. No one is immune. I have the left-handed instinct to punish the robber-barons with class warfare.
On the other hand, if you want a true economic success, give America a chance as the last superpower, and quit sweating the small stuff. Rule #1: 95% of everything is small stuff.
Before I forget his name—as I inevitably will—I want to quote Reverend J. Lee Petersen, a black minister. He referred to President Obama as “The Messiah” in a far more sarcastic way than I can ever summon. His repeated references to “The Messiah” reduced me to helpless giggling. I am not alone in my skepticism. I feel vindicated. An African-American repudiated Obama.
He’s out there naked. President Obama likes to relate to Abraham Lincoln, among others. Lincoln earns a place of respect in my home because he, too was out there naked, and kept the country together. It took a long time to overcome the heritage upbringing about the War of Northern Aggression, and a lot longer to understand Abe Lincoln. I think I have an adequate grasp on today’s issues.
I don’t care if Obama is blind, purple, green, or somewhere in between. I want an adequate government, and though I’ve tried to pour cold water over people a lot more resentful of Obama than I am, they resist and I am having my doubts.
I caution Constant Readers who have taken me to task. I made a promise. I’ll give you one chance to reply. We are getting inside the “100 days” zone. I have kept silence and played dead like all marsupial mammals do.
This is rapidly ending. My opinion, in the words of Grace Slick and Jefferson Airplane, “doesn’t mean shit to a tree”.
I am getting ready to revert to “Osama” as a pseudonym for Mr. Obama. I was partisan during the election, and now that he has won fair and square—except for paying election-stealing ACORN off, let’s not go there yet—I kept my promise and gave him a chance. What I see is rampant socialism, spending, and repaying debts to the Far Left. All bets are off.
posted by Robert at 4:09 PM
3 Comments:
We have ads on the radio all the time about if you are having trouble paying your taxes ,to call this outfit and they will take care of it . They negotiate for you and you only have to pay a percentage of the tax. Maybe you should check in to something like that. I think if you two wanted to call in the press and make a big stink about how they are picking on the "little guy" ,they might just give you a break.
Obama is no surprise at all, unfortunately...
I never expected any good to come of Obama being elected.
Sometimes, it's no fun being right...
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