(and, Technology ought to do something for us other than destroy our environment).
The thieves aided the public is letting me fall down (in Illich's, in Jesus' wake); but when I tried to get back up again, they knocked me down, and now hold me down, even though the fed finally let me out of jail, it did so only after destroying my business, my domains, and wasting my pittance of cash.
But you know what? They did it again!
I've been a conservative boy scout type all my life. As my destroyed Knatz.com recounted, I'd cry when other boys stepped on ants, I worried myself sick that a big fire at the Rockville Centre Coca Cola bottling plant was eating up oxygen we needed to breathe. I picked up my trash, I picked up your trash. ... In the '60s I cheered Bucky Fuller's advice that we recycle.
1989, flat broke from another decade of public effort (writing, god's inspired word) with no income, I landed in Sebring FL. I heard that there was a truck out on the highway that took aluminum cans for recycling. I organized a few big trash cans to receive aluminum empties. Within days the tenants' association was knocking me aside so they could gather the cans I'd made provision for. Only later did I learn that the guy on the highway paid money for the cans! My thieving neighbors probably thought I was going to sell their garbage. So they knocked me down, the same people who didn't support my internet, the same people responsible for you not having today the internet Jesus, Illich, and I designed for you. Ah, I thought. at least they're recycling. (Meantime, god, as usual, gave me visions of dead pk having license from heaven to visit (and abide) some parts of heaven and to visit (and abide) some parts of hell. I don't know what parts of heaven I'm denied, there's plenty that I'm not denied; I don't know what parts of hell I'll be denied; but there are plenty housing and torturing my many many enemies (virtually every kleptocrat on earth), where I am welcome to improvise my own private tortures on top of Satan's standards. Some devil may be burning your feet: I come along and my choice of tormentor is held captive while I piss in their mouth! bugger their eyeball! whatever.)
That aside, here's the real laugh: government (town, county, state) knocked the tenants association aside and now the state collects the recyclables. Of course they knocked the guy in the truck out on the highway too.
The government assuming monopolies of everything, stealing the numbers rackets, racetrack handicapping, snake oil sales (the pharms) ... reminds me: I loved camping in Jonathan Dickinson State Park, Hobbe Sound FL, in the 1980s while looking for an outlet to plug my typewriter into as I struggled to find a buyer for my first novel. One day after many camping visits there I rented a canoe, paddled up the Loxahatchee River, caught a few brackish water fish, and let the ranger guide me around Trapper John's old 'gator wrestling outpost. I told the story at Knatz.com: I repeat it here before reposting the K. version:
Trapper John camped on the river, way out beyond any other settler's range. The curious visited, he turned it to cash by running a little theme park: he let people look at his 'coons, he wrestled alligators for them. The state shut him down. He died, killed himself it seems. The state took over his camp, and now shows 'coons, alligators ...
And the US pretends that Sutter's Mill was actually US property, freely available to any kleptocrat despoilers. When Sutter sued, and won, the good people of San Francisco burned the court house to the ground, scattered the judges.
The state really does know where the true power (this side of Judgment) resides: and it ain't with Jesus.
What I don't know is if anybody else pays the governments for the stolen recyclables.
Harlan Ellison wrote a story about a terminator from the future comeing back in time to kill the mother of some future hero so he wouldn't get born. Hollywood made The Terminator: great movie! Ellison sees it. No doubt he thought, hey, great job; but that's mine! where's my check? He sued the bastards, he collected. Now reprints of the moie even give him a credit.
What about all my ideas that others have made millions to billions to trillions with? No, no, no. Kleptocrats can't afford to pay any reluctant kleptocrats, certainly not any anti-kleptocrats. If the road builders really paid those ancestrally responsible for the road, where would the payments end? It was an Indian path before it was a road; but it was an animal path before it was an Indian path. And how do we know it wasn't an insect path before that? and an amoeba path before that?
Why can't we just understand that etiologies are far too complex for us to excel at. It would be so easy to follow Illich's Jesus and see that no body really owns the whole of anything. So why don't we share, and not destroy, after (severely) limiting our numbers.
If we reduced the human population to say a hundred million (before nature reduces it to zero), then it would hardly matter what any surviving thieving neighbors of mine might want to steal, there'd be no municipality to steal it from them.
Individual thieves there'd still be; but no super-tribe of thieves.
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