Saturday, March 23, 2013

Death & Taxes




On my way to the post office this morning, I passed a mail box.  “The Starkweather’s,” read the name.  
Charles Starkweather (above) was one of the first “spree killers” in American history.  For no apparent reason, other than for shits and grins, he and his 13-year-old sweetie, Caril Ann Fugate, just decided one day that society needed a bit of blow back for the crummy hands it had dealt the young couple.  Nine or fifteen corpses later (I’m too lazy to look), the two were captured.  Shortly, Charlie was treated to some permanent remedial training when he was flashed fried to a crisp in the electric chair.  Caril Ann got twenty years and is now justa typical American soap-watcher potting out somewhere in BFE and pinching pennies at Walmart.  As a child in Kansas at the time, I can still remember the stir created up in neighboring Nebraska by the deadly duo.

But really, Starkweather is such an unusual name (have you ever seen it anywhere?), and the only thing to my knowledge associated with the name is a mad dog killer and a trail of blood and bodies.  Is this not grounds for changing one’s name?  This unlucky person here in Englewood, Florida might just as well be known as Sid Spreekiller or Stan Starkmurder.  Maybe just drop the “weather” part and stick with “Stan Stark,” or drop the Stark and just keep the last as in “Walt Weather”, or . . . . Oh, whatever.  Just like Billy Joe Outlaw who comes from a long line of “proud Outlaws,” guess people become kinda attached to their tags after a hundred generations or so, no matter what the murderous connotation with moderns might be.

They say this is a wonderful world to live in, but I don't believe I ever did really live in a wonderful world. . . . The more I looked at people, the more I hated them, because I knowed there wasn't any place for me with the kind of people I knowed.  I used to wonder why they was  here, anyhow.  A bunch of goddamned sons-of-bitches looking for somebody to make fun of.  -----Charles Starkweather
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Michelle’s son, Matt, is a self-made fellow.  He and his sweet wife, Danielle, were shrewd enough to get into the eCig biz when the gettin’ was good.  Now, these two man and wife 30-somethings count their millions like other people count their coupons in the grocery lines.  But anyway, Michelle tells me this morning that the feds now want to bump the tax on Matt and Danielle’s biz to a mind-blowing 87%.  Why are we the way we are today?  Why is bizz a fizz here in the USSR, I mean UST?  Why do businesses flee these United States of Taxation at the first opportunity?  There are other reasons, I'm sure, but onerous taxes top the chart.  Here, now, we have a cutting edge device that has helped countless folks kick a pernicious, deadly habit, a neat little machine that is harmless and has made us healthier and happier and saved billions for insurance companies . . . yet with corrupt politicians passing criminal laws the greed buckets must get their mafia hands on a big piece of the action. . . .



Let me share an email I received some years ago from a disgruntled American voter. He is speaking for many of us featherless bipeds who continue to struggle on under an increasingly burdensome burden.   Although you may have seen this before, it bears repeating, bears rereading and bears reraging:


Tax his land . . . Tax his wage . . . Tax his bed in which he lays.
Tax his tractor . . . Tax his mule . . .Teach him taxes are the rule.
Tax his cow . . .Tax his goat . . . Tax his pants . . . Tax his coat.
Tax his ties . . . Tax his shirts . . . Tax his work . . .Tax his dirt.
Tax his tobacco . . . Tax his drink . . . Tax him if he tries to think.

Tax his booze . . .Tax his beers . . . If he cries tax his tears.

Tax his bills . . . Tax his gas . . .Tax his notes . . .Tax his cash.

Tax him good and let him know that after taxes he has no dough.

If he hollers tax him more, tax him until he's good and sore.
Tax his coffin . . .Tax his grave . . .Tax the sod in which he lays.
Put these words upon his tomb : "Taxes drove me to my doom!"

And when he's gone, we won't relax, we'll still be after the inheritance TAX!!


Accounts Receivable Tax
Building Permit Tax
CDL License Tax
Cigarette Tax
Corporate Income Tax
Dog License Tax
Federal Income Tax
Federal Unemployment Tax (FUTA)
Fishing License Tax
Food License Tax
Fuel Permit Tax
Gasoline Tax
Hunting License Tax
Inheritance Tax
Inventory Tax
IRS Interest Charges (tax on top of tax),
IRS Penalties (tax on top of tax),
Liquor Tax,
Luxury Tax,
Marriage License Tax,
Medicare Tax,
Property Tax,
Real Estate Tax,

Service charge taxes,
Social Security Tax,
Road Usage Tax (Truckers),
Sales Taxes,
Recreational Vehicle Tax,
School Tax,
State Income Tax,
State Unemployment Tax (SUTA),

Telephone Federal Excise Tax,
Telephone Federal Universal Service Fee Tax,
Telephone Federal, State and Local Surcharge Tax,
Telephone Minimum Usage Surcharge Tax,
Telephone Recurring and Non-recurring Charges Tax,
Telephone State and Local Tax,
Telephone Usage Charge Tax,
Utility Tax,

Vehicle License Registration Tax,
Vehicle Sales Tax,
Watercraft Registration Tax,
Well Permit Tax,
Workers Compensation Tax.



While the above has its humor, the fact is not one of these blood-sucking taxes existed 100 years ago, and our nation was the most prosperous in the world.  We had absolutely no national debt, had the largest middle class in the world, and moms stayed home to raise the kids.  And we still have to "press 1" for English.  What happened?  Well, most of us already sense the answer to that.  While our parents were asleep at the switch and voting Republican, socialism, like a silent serpent, slithered into the garden and laid its eggs.  Now, we must either get out the garden hoe or get the hell out of the garden.
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Finger Painting of the Day