Government real chickens here
(My Clovis News Journal column for July 17, 2015)
Once upon a time, responsible people raised their own food — gardens and livestock — at home.
Then bad guys who found it too dangerous to be roving bullies formed governments so they could control and loot the production of others, usually in return for claimed protection from others exactly like them, in relative safety. Short-sighted people allowed those bullies to live.
Over time people forgot the origins of government. Governing became so common that people stopped seeing the evil and accepted the bullies and their violations as normal— "how it has always been done"— and otherwise good people began to join the ranks. As soon as they did, however, they were no longer really good, since you can't govern without violating life, liberty, and property, and all government is financed through theft; euphemistically called "taxation".
Most of the bullies started seeing themselves as benefactors— or even the source— of civilization, rather than its enemy. People became addicted to the bribes in the form of jobs and entitlements handed out by government, and became emotionally invested in its existence. Stockholm Syndrome thrived as the violations multiplied.
Among those various violations of life, liberty, and property were "laws" which in some localities outlawed gardens and livestock. In other words, irresponsibility was mandated and enforced.
No real law can forbid such a fundamental human activity, just as no legitimate law can regulate weaponry or self defense in any way. In fact, on a basic level, raising your own food is self defense.
Some of these "laws" forbid front yard gardens. Some dictate what kinds of plants you can grow, often spending billions of dollars faking data to convince people that certain plants are too dangerous to be allowed.
Many places impose rules forbidding even the most basic of livestock: the common chicken. Throughout recent history where there were people, there have been chickens. If you believe anyone has a right to forbid their neighbors raising chickens you'll find a way to justify anything.
When the same bullies who believe they can criminalize chicken raising by their slaves— pardon me, "residents"— keep fowl on their own questionably claimed property, you have a severe case of cognitive dissonance and hypocrisy.
It's amazing to me what people will tolerate— or even support— once they have been fooled into thinking they need someone else to run their life.
Responsible people still raise their own food-- gardens or livestock or both-- regardless of the "law". Bullies still pretend they have this magical, imaginary quality they call "authority" to somehow trump human rights. Responsible people see the bullies for what they are. Be responsible. Demand they leave the chicken keepers alone. Forever.
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Those who want you to doubt that anarchy (self-ownership and individual responsibility) is the best, most moral, and ethical way to live among others are asking you to accept that theft, aggression, superstition, and slavery are better.
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Tuesday, August 18, 2015
The biggest danger for travelers
My son recently came for a visit. An incident along the way caused me to post a somewhat cryptic blog entry, which, since he is back home, I now feel safe to explain.
On his way here, just past Oklahoma City, heading west, he saw flashing lights behind his car. He pulled over. The cop informed him that he hadn't been the "required distance" behind a truck in front of him (so I guess that means the cop claimed my son was driving like a cop, since most tailgaters I see are driving those clown cars with the flashing lights on top).
The cop gave him a warning, then as he was "letting him go", noticed he seemed "nervous". Not sure who wouldn't be nervous while in the presence of a member of the Blue Line Gang- a gang which encourages its members to rob, rape, and murder, and then helps them get away with it. I'm sure just about anyone in the presence of those vermin is nervous.
Based upon this "inexplicable" nervousness (haha), the badged tax junkie asked to search the vehicle. Consent was not given. So, the cop called in the drug dog. At the secret signal, the dog "alerted" and the cops took this as "legal justification" to search the vehicle.
No "drugs" were found, but the self-described "pro-gun, conservative" cops were disturbed by the guns my son was bringing along.
So, the cop forced my son to dial me, and took the phone where my son couldn't overhear (he was in their vehicle, in the front seat).
This is where I became involved.
The cop identified himself as Oklahoma Highway Patrol (or "State police", I forget exactly which). Turns out they were actually the narcotics goons, but cops are allowed to lie. He asked if I was expecting a visit from my son. At this point I was terrified there had been a fatal accident, and my mind was racing. I said I was. He said he had pulled my son over for a traffic violation. The cop then asked if I knew my son was bringing firearms. I said I did. (I didn't explicitly know, but my son always brings guns). He said when questioned, my son initially stated he had no firearms with him- I never asked my son if this was true or not, because it's no one's business, and questions like that don't deserve answers. (Yes, I know: Don't talk to cops!)
Now I knew my son was OK- if he could get out of the hands of the Blue Line Gang. My anger started growing. I kept my cool, though. It is a very good thing that my thoughts (usually) get filtered through my brain before coming out my mouth.
So the cop said he just wanted to make sure because "you can't be too careful these days". Then he paused. And waited. And waited some more. I suspect he was waiting for me to slavishly agree with his silly assertion. I didn't. So after a long, awkward pause, he said he supposed I would see my son in a few hours. I said "OK".
Then, after hanging up, I got madder still. I realized that had my son been "Black" or "Brown", his risk of being murdered on the side of the road would have grown exponentially. And copsuckers would have said he deserved it.
It is completely unacceptable that these pirates are permitted to infest the roadways and molest travelers. It's getting to be that the risk of a cop encounter is replacing the flat tire as the road trouble you simply have to plan to put up with.
I (still) hate cops.
.
On his way here, just past Oklahoma City, heading west, he saw flashing lights behind his car. He pulled over. The cop informed him that he hadn't been the "required distance" behind a truck in front of him (so I guess that means the cop claimed my son was driving like a cop, since most tailgaters I see are driving those clown cars with the flashing lights on top).
The cop gave him a warning, then as he was "letting him go", noticed he seemed "nervous". Not sure who wouldn't be nervous while in the presence of a member of the Blue Line Gang- a gang which encourages its members to rob, rape, and murder, and then helps them get away with it. I'm sure just about anyone in the presence of those vermin is nervous.
Based upon this "inexplicable" nervousness (haha), the badged tax junkie asked to search the vehicle. Consent was not given. So, the cop called in the drug dog. At the secret signal, the dog "alerted" and the cops took this as "legal justification" to search the vehicle.
No "drugs" were found, but the self-described "pro-gun, conservative" cops were disturbed by the guns my son was bringing along.
So, the cop forced my son to dial me, and took the phone where my son couldn't overhear (he was in their vehicle, in the front seat).
This is where I became involved.
The cop identified himself as Oklahoma Highway Patrol (or "State police", I forget exactly which). Turns out they were actually the narcotics goons, but cops are allowed to lie. He asked if I was expecting a visit from my son. At this point I was terrified there had been a fatal accident, and my mind was racing. I said I was. He said he had pulled my son over for a traffic violation. The cop then asked if I knew my son was bringing firearms. I said I did. (I didn't explicitly know, but my son always brings guns). He said when questioned, my son initially stated he had no firearms with him- I never asked my son if this was true or not, because it's no one's business, and questions like that don't deserve answers. (Yes, I know: Don't talk to cops!)
Now I knew my son was OK- if he could get out of the hands of the Blue Line Gang. My anger started growing. I kept my cool, though. It is a very good thing that my thoughts (usually) get filtered through my brain before coming out my mouth.
So the cop said he just wanted to make sure because "you can't be too careful these days". Then he paused. And waited. And waited some more. I suspect he was waiting for me to slavishly agree with his silly assertion. I didn't. So after a long, awkward pause, he said he supposed I would see my son in a few hours. I said "OK".
Then, after hanging up, I got madder still. I realized that had my son been "Black" or "Brown", his risk of being murdered on the side of the road would have grown exponentially. And copsuckers would have said he deserved it.
It is completely unacceptable that these pirates are permitted to infest the roadways and molest travelers. It's getting to be that the risk of a cop encounter is replacing the flat tire as the road trouble you simply have to plan to put up with.
I (still) hate cops.
.
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