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Well Mr. Big Brother IRS man... take my pound of flesh and sleep well.
If you’re reading this, you’re no doubt asking yourself, “Why did this have to
happen?” The simple truth is that it is complicated and has been coming for a
long time. The writing process, started many months ago, was intended to be
therapy in the face of the looming realization that there isn’t enough therapy in
the world that can fix what is really broken. Needless to say, this rant could fill
volumes with example after example if I would let it. I find the process of writing
it frustrating, tedious, and probably pointless… especially given my gross
inability to gracefully articulate my thoughts in light of the storm raging in my
head. Exactly what is therapeutic about that I’m not sure, but desperate times
call for desperate measures.
We are all taught as children that without laws there would be no society, only
anarchy. Sadly, starting at early ages we in this country have been
brainwashed to believe that, in return for our dedication and service, our
government stands for justice for all. We are further brainwashed to believe
that there is freedom in this place, and that we should be ready to lay our lives
down for the noble principals represented by its founding fathers. Remember?
One of these was “no taxation without representation”. I have spent the total
years of my adulthood unlearning that crap from only a few years of my
childhood. These days anyone who really stands up for that principal is
promptly labeled a “crackpot”, traitor and worse.
While very few working people would say they haven’t had their fair share of
taxes (as can I), in my lifetime I can say with a great degree of certainty that
there has never been a politician cast a vote on any matter with the likes of me
or my interests in mind. Nor, for that matter, are they the least bit interested in
me or anything I have to say.
Why is it that a handful of thugs and plunderers can commit unthinkable
atrocities (and in the case of the GM executives, for scores of years) and when
it’s time for their gravy train to crash under the weight of their gluttony and
overwhelming stupidity, the force of the full federal government has no difficulty
coming to their aid within days if not hours? Yet at the same time, the joke we
call the American medical system, including the drug and insurance companies,
are murdering tens of thousands of people a year and stealing from the corpses
and victims they cripple, and this country’s leaders don’t see this as important
as bailing out a few of their vile, rich cronies. Yet, the political
“representatives” (thieves, liars, and self-serving scumbags is far more
accurate) have endless time to sit around for year after year and debate the
state of the “terrible health care problem”. It’s clear they see no crisis as long
as the dead people don’t get in the way of their corporate profits rolling in.
Well Mr. Big Brother IRS man... take my pound of flesh and sleep well.
And justice? You’ve got to be kidding!
How can any rational individual explain that white elephant conundrum in the
middle of our tax system and, indeed, our entire legal system? Here we have a
system that is, by far, too complicated for the brightest of the master scholars to
understand. Yet, it mercilessly “holds accountable” its victims, claiming that
they’re responsible for fully complying with laws not even the experts
understand. The law “requires” a signature on the bottom of a tax filing; yet no
one can say truthfully that they understand what they are signing; if that’s not
“duress” than what is. If this is not the measure of a totalitarian regime, nothing
is.
How did I get here?
My introduction to the real American nightmare starts back in the early ‘80s.
Unfortunately after more than 16 years of school, somewhere along the line I
picked up the absurd, pompous notion that I could read and understand plain
English. Some friends introduced me to a group of people who were having
‘tax code’ readings and discussions. In particular, zeroed in on a section
relating to the wonderful “exemptions” that make institutions like the vulgar,
corrupt Catholic Church so incredibly wealthy. We carefully studied the law
(with the help of some of the “best”, high-paid, experienced tax lawyers in the
business), and then began to do exactly what the “big boys” were doing (except
that we weren’t steeling from our congregation or lying to the government about
our massive profits in the name of God). We took a great deal of care to make
it all visible, following all of the rules, exactly the way the law said it was to be
done.
The intent of this exercise and our efforts was to bring about a much-needed reevaluation
of the laws that allow the monsters of organized religion to make
such a mockery of people who earn an honest living. However, this is where I
learned that there are two “interpretations” for every law; one for the very rich,
and one for the rest of us… Oh, and the monsters are the very ones making
and enforcing the laws; the inquisition is still alive and well today in this country.
That little lesson in patriotism cost me $40,000+, 10 years of my life, and set my
retirement plans back to 0. It made me realize for the first time that I live in a
country with an ideology that is based on a total and complete lie. It also made
me realize, not only how naive I had been, but also the incredible stupidity of
the American public; that they buy, hook, line, and sinker, the crap about their
“freedom”… and that they continue to do so with eyes closed in the face of
overwhelming evidence and all that keeps happening in front of them.
Well Mr. Big Brother IRS man... take my pound of flesh and sleep well.
Before even having to make a shaky recovery from the sting of the first lesson
on what justice really means in this country (around 1984 after making my way
through engineering school and still another five years of “paying my dues”), I
felt I finally had to take a chance of launching my dream of becoming an
independent engineer.
On the subjects of engineers and dreams of independence, I should digress
somewhat to say that I’m sure that I inherited the fascination for creative
problem solving from my father. I realized this at a very young age.
The significance of independence, however, came much later during my early
years of college; at the age of 18 or 19 when I was living on my own as student
in an apartment in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. My neighbor was an elderly
retired woman (80+ seemed ancient to me at that age) who was the widowed
wife of a retired steel worker. Her husband had worked all his life in the steel
mills of central Pennsylvania with promises from big business and the union
that, for his 30 years of service, he would have a pension and medical care to
look forward to in his retirement. Instead he was one of the thousands who got
nothing because the incompetent mill management and corrupt union (not to
mention the government) raided their pension funds and stole their retirement.
All she had was social security to live on.
In retrospect, the situation was laughable because here I was living on peanut
butter and bread (or Ritz crackers when I could afford to splurge) for months at
a time. When I got to know this poor figure and heard her story I felt worse for
her plight than for my own (I, after all, I thought I had everything to in front of
me). I was genuinely appalled at one point, as we exchanged stories and
commiserated with each other over our situations, when she in her
grandmotherly fashion tried to convince me that I would be “healthier” eating cat
food (like her) rather than trying to get all my substance from peanut butter and
bread. I couldn’t quite go there, but the impression was made. I decided that I
didn’t trust big business to take care of me, and that I would take responsibility
for my own future and myself.
Return to the early ‘80s, and here I was off to a terrifying start as a ‘wet-behindthe-
ears’ contract software engineer... and two years later, thanks to the fine
backroom, midnight effort by the sleazy executives of Arthur Andersen (the very
same folks who later brought us Enron and other such calamities) and an
equally sleazy New York Senator (Patrick Moynihan), we saw the passage of
1986 tax reform act with its section 1706.
For you who are unfamiliar, here is the core text of the IRS Section 1706,
defining the treatment of workers (such as contract engineers) for tax purposes.
Well Mr. Big Brother IRS man... take my pound of flesh and sleep well.
Visit this link for a conference committee report (
http://www.synergistech.
com/1706.shtml#ConferenceCommitteeReport) regarding the intended
interpretation of Section 1706 and the relevant parts of Section 530, as
amended. For information on how these laws affect technical services workers
and their clients, read our discussion here (
http://www.synergistech.com/ictaxlaw.
shtml).
SEC. 1706. TREATMENT OF CERTAIN TECHNICAL PERSONNEL.
(a) IN GENERAL - Section 530 of the Revenue Act of 1978 is amended by
adding at the end thereof the following new subsection:
(d) EXCEPTION. - This section shall not apply in the case of an individual
who pursuant to an arrangement between the taxpayer and another person,
provides services for such other person as an engineer, designer, drafter,
computer programmer, systems analyst, or other similarly skilled worker
engaged in a similar line of work.
(b) EFFECTIVE DATE. - The amendment made by this section shall apply
to remuneration paid and services rendered after December 31, 1986.
Note:
· "another person" is the client in the traditional job-shop relationship.
· "taxpayer" is the recruiter, broker, agency, or job shop.
· "individual", "employee", or "worker" is you.
Admittedly, you need to read the treatment to understand what it is saying but
it’s not very complicated. The bottom line is that they may as well have put my
name right in the text of section (d). Moreover, they could only have been more
blunt if they would have came out and directly declared me a criminal and noncitizen
slave. Twenty years later, I still can’t believe my eyes.
During 1987, I spent close to $5000 of my ‘pocket change’, and at least 1000
hours of my time writing, printing, and mailing to any senator, congressman,
governor, or slug that might listen; none did, and they universally treated me as
if I was wasting their time. I spent countless hours on the L.A. freeways driving
to meetings and any and all of the disorganized professional groups who were
attempting to mount a campaign against this atrocity. This, only to discover that
our efforts were being easily derailed by a few moles from the brokers who
were just beginning to enjoy the windfall from the new declaration of their
“freedom”. Oh, and don’t forget, for all of the time I was spending on this, I was
Well Mr. Big Brother IRS man... take my pound of flesh and sleep well.
loosing income that I couldn’t bill clients.
After months of struggling it had clearly gotten to be a futile exercise. The best
we could get for all of our trouble is a pronouncement from an IRS mouthpiece
that they weren’t going to enforce that provision (read harass engineers and
scientists). This immediately proved to be a lie, and the mere existence of the
regulation began to have its impact on my bottom line; this, of course, was the
intended effect.
Again, rewind my retirement plans back to 0 and shift them into idle. If I had
any sense, I clearly should have left abandoned engineering and never looked
back.
Instead I got busy working 100-hour workweeks. Then came the L.A.
depression of the early 1990s. Our leaders decided that they didn’t need the all
of those extra Air Force bases they had in Southern California, so they were
closed; just like that. The result was economic devastation in the region that
rivaled the widely publicized Texas S&L fiasco. However, because the
government caused it, no one gave a shit about all of the young families who
lost their homes or street after street of boarded up houses abandoned to the
wealthy loan companies who received government funds to “shore up” their
windfall. Again, I lost my retirement.
Years later, after weathering a divorce and the constant struggle trying to build
some momentum with my business, I find myself once again beginning to finally
pick up some speed. Then came the .COM bust and the 911 nightmare. Our
leaders decided that all aircraft were grounded for what seemed like an eternity;
and long after that, ‘special’ facilities like San Francisco were on security alert
for months. This made access to my customers prohibitively expensive.
Ironically, after what they had done the Government came to the aid of the
airlines with billions of our tax dollars … as usual they left me to rot and die
while they bailed out their rich, incompetent cronies WITH MY MONEY! After
these events, there went my business but not quite yet all of my retirement and
savings.
By this time, I’m thinking that it might be good for a change. Bye to California,
I’ll try Austin for a while. So I moved, only to find out that this is a place with a
highly inflated sense of self-importance and where damn little real engineering
work is done. I’ve never experienced such a hard time finding work. The rates
are 1/3 of what I was earning before the crash, because pay rates here are
fixed by the three or four large companies in the area who are in collusion to
drive down prices and wages… and this happens because the justice
department is all on the take and doesn’t give a fuck about serving anyone or
Well Mr. Big Brother IRS man... take my pound of flesh and sleep well.
anything but themselves and their rich buddies.
To survive, I was forced to cannibalize my savings and retirement, the last of
which was a small IRA. This came in a year with mammoth expenses and not a
single dollar of income. I filed no return that year thinking that because I didn’t
have any income there was no need. The sleazy government decided that they
disagreed. But they didn’t notify me in time for me to launch a legal objection
so when I attempted to get a protest filed with the court I was told I was no
longer entitled to due process because the time to file ran out. Bend over for
another $10,000 helping of justice.
So now we come to the present. After my experience with the CPA world,
following the business crash I swore that I’d never enter another accountant’s
office again. But here I am with a new marriage and a boatload of
undocumented income, not to mention an expensive new business asset, a
piano, which I had no idea how to handle. After considerable thought I decided
that it would be irresponsible NOT to get professional help; a very big mistake.
When we received the forms back I was very optimistic that they were in order.
I had taken all of the years information to Bill Ross, and he came back with
results very similar to what I was expecting. Except that he had neglected to
include the contents of Sheryl’s unreported income; $12,700 worth of it. To
make matters worse, Ross knew all along this was missing and I didn’t have a
clue until he pointed it out in the middle of the audit. By that time it had become
brutally evident that he was representing himself and not me.
This left me stuck in the middle of this disaster trying to defend transactions that
have no relationship to anything tax-related (at least the tax-related transactions
were poorly documented). Things I never knew anything about and things my
wife had no clue would ever matter to anyone. The end result is… well, just
look around.
I remember reading about the stock market crash before the “great” depression
and how there were wealthy bankers and businessmen jumping out of windows
when they realized they screwed up and lost everything. Isn’t it ironic how far
we’ve come in 60 years in this country that they now know how to fix that little
economic problem; they just steal from the middle class (who doesn’t have any
say in it, elections are a joke) to cover their asses and it’s “business-as-usual”.
Now when the wealthy fuck up, the poor get to die for the mistakes… isn’t that a
clever, tidy solution.
As government agencies go, the FAA is often justifiably referred to as a
tombstone agency, though they are hardly alone. The recent presidential
puppet GW Bush and his cronies in their eight years certainly reinforced for all
Well Mr. Big Brother IRS man... take my pound of flesh and sleep well.
of us that this criticism rings equally true for all of the government. Nothing
changes unless there is a body count (unless it is in the interest of the wealthy
sows at the government trough). In a government full of hypocrites from top to
bottom, life is as cheap as their lies and their self-serving laws.
I know I’m hardly the first one to decide I have had all I can stand. It has
always been a myth that people have stopped dying for their freedom in this
country, and it isn’t limited to the blacks, and poor immigrants. I know there
have been countless before me and there are sure to be as many after. But I
also know that by not adding my body to the count, I insure nothing will
change. I choose to not keep looking over my shoulder at “big brother” while he
strips my carcass, I choose not to ignore what is going on all around me, I
choose not to pretend that business as usual won’t continue; I have just had
enough.
I can only hope that the numbers quickly get too big to be white washed and
ignored that the American zombies wake up and revolt; it will take nothing less.
I would only hope that by striking a nerve that stimulates the inevitable double
standard, knee-jerk government reaction that results in more stupid draconian
restrictions people wake up and begin to see the pompous political thugs and
their mindless minions for what they are. Sadly, though I spent my entire life
trying to believe it wasn’t so, but violence not only is the answer, it is the only
answer. The cruel joke is that the really big chunks of shit at the top have
known this all along and have been laughing, at and using this awareness
against, fools like me all along.
I saw it written once that the definition of insanity is repeating the same process
over and over and expecting the outcome to suddenly be different. I am finally
ready to stop this insanity. Well, Mr. Big Brother IRS man, let’s try something
different; take my pound of flesh and sleep well.
The communist creed: From each according to his ability, to
each according to his need.
The capitalist creed: From each according to his gullibility, to
each according to his greed.
Joe Stack (1956-2010)
02/18/2010
Well Mr. Big Brother IRS man... take my pound of flesh and sleep well.