Tax Day Lament


It’s April 15. Most likely you either filed your taxes early to get a refund, or you’re waiting until the last minute today to mail in your check.

Sucks, doesn’t it?

There are core functions that the government should provide and that should be paid for by the citizens.

But if you can’t begin with the foundational truth that government takes too much of our money, that government spends too much of our money and that our government as it stands is incompetent to handle anyone’s money, then we can’t have a rational discussion about taxes. I don’t care what your pet project is. Money that would pay for it is being pissed away somewhere else. It doesn’t need to come out of my wallet.

That is NOT debatable.

I’ve posted this poem before. But it still fits.

Tax his land, tax his bed,
Tax the table at which he’s fed.
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 shirt,
Tax his work, tax his dirt.

Tax his tobacco, tax his drink.
Tax him if he tries to think.
Tax his cigars, tax his beers,
If he cries, then tax his tears.

Tax his car, tax his gas,
Find other ways to tax his ass.
Tax all he has, then let him know
That you won’t be done ’til he has no dough.

When he screams and hollers,
Tax him some more.
Tax him ’till he’s good and sore.
Then tax his coffin, tax his grave.
Tax the sod in which he’s laid.

Put these words upon his tomb,
“Taxes drove me to my doom.”
When he’s gone, do not relax.
It’s time to apply the inheritance tax.

~ Original author unknown.

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