Friday, January 23, 2004

Well I'll Be John Brown!

from Life and times of Frederick Douglass

ABOUT the time I began my enterprise in Rochester I chanced to spend a night and a day under the roof of a man whose character and conversation, and whose objects and aims in life made a very deep impression upon my mind and heart. His name had been mentioned to me by several prominent colored men, among whom were the Rev. Henry Highland Garnet and J. W. Loguen. In speaking of him their voices would drop to a whisper, and what they said of him made me very eager to see and know him. Fortunately I was invited to see him in his own house. At the time to which I now refer this man was a respectable merchant in a populous and thriving city, and our first place of meeting was at his store. This was a substantial brick building, on a prominent, busy street. A glance at the interior, as well as at the massive walls without, gave me the impression that the owner must be a man of considerable wealth. From this store I was conducted to his house, where I was kindly received as an expected guest. My welcome was all I could have asked. Every member of the family, young and old, seemed glad to see me, and I was made much at home in a very little while. I was, however, a little disappointed with the appearance of the house and with its location. After seeing the fine store I was prepared to see a fine residence, in an eligible locality, but this conclusion was completely dispelled by actual observation. In fact, the house was neither commodious nor elegant, nor its situation desirable. It was a small wooden building, on a back street, in a neighborhood chiefly occupied by laboring men and mechanics; respectable enough to be sure, but not quite the place, I thought, where one would look for the residence of a flourishing and successful merchant. Plain as was the outside of this man's house, the inside was plainer. Its furniture would have satisfied a Spartan. It would take longer to tell what was not in this house than what was in it. There was an air of plainness about it which almost suggested destitution. My first meal passed under the misnomer of tea, though there was nothing about it resembling the usual significance of that term. It consisted of beef soup, cabbage, and potatoes; a meal such as a man might relish after following the plow all day, or performing a forced march of a dozen miles over a rough road in frosty weather. Innocent of paint, vaneering, varnish, or table-cloth, the table announced itself unmistakably of pine and of the plainest workmanship. There was no hired help visible. The mother, daughters, and sons did the serving and did it well. They were evidently used to it, and had no thought of any impropriety or degradation in being their own servants. It is said that a house in some measure reflects the character of its occupants; this one certainly did. In it there were no disguises, no illusions, no make believes. Everything implied stern truth, solid purpose, and rigid economy. I was not long in company with the master of this house before I discovered that he was indeed the master of it, and was likely to become mine too if I stayed long enough with him. He fulfilled St. Paul's idea of the head of the family[.] His wife believed in him, and his children observed him with reverence. Whenever he spoke his words commanded earnest attention. His arguments, which I ventured at some points to oppose, seemed to convince all; his appeals touched all, and his will impressed all. Certainly I never felt myself in the presence of a stronger religious influence than while in this man's house.

In person he was lean, strong, and sinewy, of the best New England mould, built for times of trouble, fitted to grapple with the flintiest hardships. Clad in plain American woolen, shod in boots of cowhide leather, and wearing a cravat of the same substantial material, under six feet high, less than 150 pounds in weight, aged about fifty, he presented a figure, straight and symmetrical as a mountain pine. His bearing was singularly impressive. His head was not large, but compact and high. His hair was coarse, strong, slightly gray and closely trimmed, and grew low on his forehead. His face was smoothly shaved, and revealed a strong square mouth, supported by a broad and prominent chin. His eyes were bluish gray, and in conversation they were full of light and fire. When on the street, he moved with a long, springing race horse step, absorbed by his own reflections, neither seeking or shunning observation. Such was the man, whose name I had heard in whispers, such was the spirit of his house and family, such was the house in which he lived, and such was Captain John Brown, whose name has now passed into history, as one of the most marked characters, and greatest heroes known to American fame.

After the strong meal already described, Captain Brown cautiously approached the subject which he wished to bring to my attention; for he seemed to apprehend opposition to his views. He denounced slavery in look and language fierce and bitter, thought that slaveholders had forfeited their right to live, that the slaves had the right to gain their liberty in any way they could, did not believe that moral suasion would ever liberate the slave, or that political action would abolish the system. He said that he had long had a plan which could accomplish this end, and he had invited me to his house to lay that plan before me. He said he had been for some time looking for colored men to whom he could safely reveal his secret, and at times he had almost despaired of finding such men, but that now he was encouraged, for he saw heads of such rising up in all directions. He had observed my course at home and abroad, and he wanted my coöperation. His plan as it then lay in his mind, had much to commend it. It did not, as some suppose, contemplate a general rising among the slaves, and a general slaughter of the slave masters. An insurrection he thought would only defeat the object, but his plan did contemplate the creating of an armed force which should act in the very heart of the south. He was not averse to the shedding of blood, and thought the practice of carrying arms would be a good one for the colored people to adopt, as it would give them a sense of their manhood. No people he said could have self respect, or be respected, who would not fight for their freedom. He called my attention to a map of the United States, and pointed out to me the far-reaching Alleghanies, which stretch away from the borders of New York, into the Southern States. "These mountains," he said, "are the basis of my plan. God has given the strength of the hills to freedom, they were placed here for the emancipation of the negro race; they are full of natural forts, where one man for defense will be equal to a hundred for attack; they are full also of good hiding places, where large numbers of brave men could be concealed, and baffle and elude pursuit for a long time. I know these mountains well, and could take a body of men into them and keep them there despite of all the efforts of Virginia to dislodge them. The true object to be sought is first of all to destroy the money value of slave property; and that can only be done by rendering such property insecure. My plan then is to take at first about twenty-five picked men, and begin on a small scale; supply them arms and ammunition, post them in squads of fives on a line of twenty-five miles, the most persuasive and judicious of whom shall go down to the fields from time to time, as opportunity offers, and induce the slaves to join them, seeking and selecting the most restless and daring."

He saw that in this part of the work the utmost care must be used to avoid treachery and disclosure. Only the most conscientious and skillful should be sent on this perilous duty; with care and enterprise he thought he could soon gather a force of one hundred hardy men, men who would be content to lead the free and adventurous life to which he proposed to train them, when these were properly drilled, and each man had found the place for which he was best suited, they would begin work in earnest; they would run off the slaves in large numbers, retain the brave and strong ones in the mountains, and send the weak and timid to the north by the underground railroad; his operations would be enlarged with increasing numbers, and would not be confined to one locality.

When I asked him, how he would support these men? he said emphatically, he would subsist them upon the enemy. Slavery was a state of war, and the slave had a right to anything necessary to his freedom. But said I, "suppose you succeed in running off a few slaves, and thus impress the Virginia slaveholder with a sense of insecurity in their slaves, the effect will be only to make them sell their slaves further south." "That," said he, "will be first what I want to do; then I would follow them up. If we could drive slavery out of one county, it would be a great gain; it would weaken the system throughout the state." "But they would employ bloodhounds to hunt you out of the mountains." "That they might at attempt," said he, "but the chances are, we should whip them, and when we should have whipt one squad, they would be careful how they pursued." "But you might be surrounded and cut off from your provisions or means of subsistence." He thought that could not be done so they could not cut their way out, but even if the worst came, he could but be killed, and he had no better use for his life than to lay it down in the cause of the slave. When I suggested that we might convert the slaveholders, he became much excited, and said that could never be, "he knew their proud hearts and that they would never be induced to give up their slaves, until they felt a big stick about their heads." He observed that I might have noticed the simple manner in which he lived, adding that he had adopted this method in order to save money to carry out his purposes. This was said in no boastful tone, for he felt that he had delayed already too long and had no room to boast either his zeal or his self denial. Had some men made such display of rigid virtue, I should have rejected it, as affected, false and hypocritical, but in John Brown, I felt it to be real as iron or granite. From this night spent with John Brown in Springfield, Mass., 1847, while I continued to write and speak against slavery, I became all the same less hopeful of its peaceful abolition. My utterances became more and more tinged by the color of this man's strong impressions. Speaking at an anti-slavery convention in Salem, Ohio, I expressed this apprehension that slavery could only be destroyed by blood-shed, when I was suddenly and sharply interrupted by my good old friend Sojourner Truth with the question, "Frederick, is God dead?" "No." I answered, and "because God is not dead slavery can only end in blood." My quaint old sister was of the Garrison school of non-resistants, and was shocked at my sanguinary doctrine, but she too became an advocate of the sword, when the war for the maintenance of the Union was declared.

It's about property rights.

I am almost finished with Lysander Spooner's AN ESSAY ON THE RIGHT OF AUTHORS AND INVENTORS TO A PERPETUAL PROPERTY IN THEIR IDEAS. I read four chapters of it out load to my wife the other night. As a result we had a very rich conversation about making copies of music for personal use. While I still feel no sorrow for the plight of the RIAA, I also believe that it is wrong to steal something that another man worked hard and labored over. The essay is particularly mind expanding in the area of wealth creation.

I am now of the opinion that the we have this "problem" of file sharing as a result of society matching the morals of our leaders, namely the refusal of our government to acknowledge the rights of property owners over their possesions. Mr Spooner makes the case very well that labor is property, and to steal the fruit of his labor is to steal his property.

These essays should be required reading for kids in school. The wealth of information that is free on the internet is amazing. I really look forward to teaching my children these things as they homeschool.

Recomended reading

Doug points us to some recomended reading from Joe Sobran at the WTP Conference.

1798 Kentucky Resolutions by Thomas Jefferson

I will be sure to check that out. Thank you Doug for monitoring the conference.

Wednesday, January 21, 2004

Accountant penalized for anti-tax advice

An administrative law judge in Washington, D.C., made his ruling in late December after the IRS' Office of Professional Responsibility filed a complaint. The IRS announced the judge's decision Monday.

"The very significant problem with Banister's advice to his clients is that it is absolutely wrong," Judge William Moran wrote. "In fact, Banister's assertions have been addressed by so many federal courts that they are no longer afforded the dignity of repeating the explanations as to why the claims are meritless."

Really? Well that it should be simple to answer a simple letter. But the IRS will not do that. The IRS is above answering to non-taxpayers. The IRS only corresponds with taxpayers. So where does that leave us non-taxpayers?

Monday, January 19, 2004

This is my new blogchalk:
United States, Washington, Hardyville, English, Christian, Male, 26-30. :)

Saturday, January 17, 2004

I just added my personality to the side bar, would you all take a moment to do the same?

My Bloginality is ENFP!!!

Tuesday, January 13, 2004

My Secret Plan to free Dick Simkanin is on hold for now but I am still working on it. In the mean time check out what I am reading on my Palm TE, at my NoSSN Links blog.

You will notice that I am currently trying to wrap my brain around some Lysander Spooner.

Saturday, January 10, 2004

And now a word from my Rabbi
I had to share this from my Rabbi. I am sorry that you all may not know what he sounds like. He has a show here in Seattle on Sunday nights. As I read it I can hear him speaking in the great accent of his. This goes right along with all those folks who think that America is just like Nazi Germany, but not like you think.

Hitler writes from the grave
By Rabbi Daniel Lapin

Saturday, January 03, 2004

Stay tuned to for my secret plan, I think it will be uploaded just before midnight GMT -8, Got to love the photo blog from Doug Kenline. He is going to the trial and taking pictures all the way.

The only problem with his photo blog is that it shows so many pictures, about 4meg worth. Doug is such a hard working man that he can post over 200 pictures in a single day. (humor) I would dare say I have never seen Allen or David post that hard (/humor)

I just spoke with him on the cell. That is accesablilty. Try calling your congressman at 1pm on a Saturday while he is driving across the country. Doug Kenline is a man of the people.

Friday, January 02, 2004

Vox gives some great points on the Dick Simkanin trial (farce) coming up on Monday. Go read now. I wasn't kidding!

The truth is that some things are too dangerous to ignore. For fedgov and the IRS cannot allow Dick Simkanin to roam free. Go read what I read in August of 2002. I believe that the Government forced him to remove this from his site. But you cant delete something from the archive. There he is standing tall and with a smile so genuine, who is this man? "I am a free american! Don't mess with Texas. And by the way, I refuse to withhold money from my employees."

In his letter to Bob Shultz he ends with "No King but Jesus!" That my friends are words that can start a revolution.

Depending on who you are talking about in the freedom movement, its easy to point out faults. But from all I've read of Dick, he seems to be so humble, as in the opposite of proud.

It is clear that he is being railroaded. A fair trial would allow him to present his side of the story. The problem with letting Dick Simkanin present his side over the objections of the prosecutions, is that people can smell a rat. Some people even know when they are being lied to. This is where we come in.

I cannot attend the trial, but even if I could, I would not get to speak with the jury to tell them what questions would not be answered if they asked.

My secret plan to free Dick Simkanin will be revealed tomorrow, God willing.

I love Claire Wolfe. She can be such a joy to read. Well it seems that Allen Hacker isn't the only thorn in the side of WTP lately. But its not like they have it out for them either. They are just holding them accountable in the public forum, which is proper since these are public issues. When integrity is on the line don't you think the goal should be resolution? Make a phone call, get it straightend out, clear your name. We are in this together, lets act like it. It comes down to the fact that we all screw up, what sets us apart is how we deal with our screw up. Are we unresponsive?

WTP as an organization is trying to sell principles of freedom, to free the minds of business owners. People who own a business and actually turn enough of a profit to hire employees tend to not put up with crap. They want to be able to rely on you to keep your promises. If agree to sell him 1000 widgets delivered on Tuesday only to discover that you can no longer fulfill the order, he will cease to do business with you. He cannot afford to do business with people who don't follow through, plain and simple.

Now tell an employer that he should not follow the advice of his accountant and stop witholding payroll taxes from employees. You need to be above reproach, all your ducks in a row just to get his attention. Why should he risk his business and a possible tangle with the IRS for your theory.

My point in all this is to say that WTP has bigger fish to fry. Try to stay above the fray. Listen to criticism and apply it. Or am I giving you a bad rap? Let me know if I am, it wouldn't be the first time I was wrong.

Thursday, January 01, 2004

I heard this poem on Sunday morning.

The Gift Outright
by Robert Frost

The land was ours before we were the land's.
She was our land more than a hundred years
Before we were her people. She was ours
In Massachusetts, in Virginia,
But we were England's, still colonials,
Possessing what we still were unpossessed by,
Possessed by what we now no more possessed.
Something we were withholding made us weak
Until we found out that it was ourselves
We were withholding from our land of living,
And forthwith found salvation in surrender.
Such as we were we gave ourselves outright
(The deed of gift was many deeds of war)
To the land vaguely realizing westward,
But still unstoried, artless, unenhanced,
Such as she was, such as she would become.

-- Delivered at the Kennedy Inauguration

[American Digest]