Dear Mr. Gubberment

Dear Mr. Gubberment

When I was a kid I watched lots of old movies – especially B movies. In those B movies there was often some backwoods, gun-toting, paranoid country fella who was on the look out for rev-a-nooers. Lately, I’m starting to understand his paranoia. In the case of the movie character it was generally linked to the fact that the fella had a still producing moonshine somewhere on the back property. In my case it has more to do with not needing nor wanting a babysitter or replacements for the parental units. More and more it seems our government feels duty bound to guide us in our every decision.

I don’t know about you, but I am fully capable of making my own decisions and living with the consequences happily. When it comes to my own life, I quite literally don’t recognize any authority higher than myself. And there are many things I think Mr. Gubberment should have nothing to do with. Such as:

Admonishing me for eating certain foods and not eating others. What I put in my body is my business. You say that abortion is okay because a woman has the right to determine what goes on with her body and yet in the same breath you can tell me I can’t eat a ho-ho, a big mac or chili dog?

Telling me I’m too fat. Well maybe I am but what business is it of yours? If I have to struggle into a size sixteen that’s punishment enough without listening to the big-bootied first lady preach about vegetables. She’s not the boss of me.

Using tax dollars to promote stupid things like, breast feeding, organic vegetables, school lunches and anything else.  Much less giving tax breaks for such things. It’s not that I have anything against any of these things but the government is supposed to be concerned with roads, security and other similar matters. Not how we feed our children or where we buy our food.

Punishing people for being successful. Hey, sure I’m envious of people who have a lot of money. I’d like to have a lot of money too. But I never think it belongs to me because I want it. That is theft. Why then do you get to decide who makes too much money and that you can take it and give it to other people who want it?

Forcing me to buy something I don’t want. Yep, that’s right, not all of us want health insurance. Is this a shock to you? Well, I don’t get sick, have accidents and have an illnesses. I don’t need health insurance. Besides, aren’t all those taxes levied on cigarettes, liquor, and junk food meant to pay for health care services? I also don’t’ want to be forced to buy a hybrid, any green technology, or panty liners. If I want something I will buy it. If I don’t’, I won’t. Pretty simple really.

It’s not that I have anything against you in particular, Mr. Gubberment – government can be a good thing in a civil society. But you have to get over yourself and realize we don’t need extra parents – for the most part, our parents did or are doing just fine. That we know more about our lives and our decisions therefore make more sense than any decision you might make for us (no matter how well intended). That if Americans wanted a king, the American Revolution would never have happened.

Copyright 2011

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3 thoughts on “Dear Mr. Gubberment

  1. Thanks for having a talk with Mr. Gubberment, Annie (I need to stay calm… OM…. so tend to avoid such confrontations :-/ ). Besides, I’m on my way to NY to make a citizen’s arrest when I find someone smoking on a public street, breathing free and public air in Times Square. What’s with THAT??

    Debi

    Hey Debs,
    No problem, I was happy to have a sit down with him. 😉 Well shoot girl, if you are out making citizen arrests for public smoking you’ll have to head out my way too. Although, you have to steer clear of the guys with the doobies cuz they have them new fangled prescriptions to get high. I wonder why no one is bothered by their second hand smoke, eh? Yeah, what is up with that? Hmmm, I think they call that obsessed with power and control. 😉
    Annie

    Like

  2. I’m still mad at the government for ruining McDonald’s french fries years ago. Don’t get me started on more recent ideas about messing with my eating habits. My body, my choice. Period.

    Hey Girl!
    Oh yeah…I remember them messing with the magic recipe of Micky D’s fries. The bastids! Did you know that happy meals can no longer have toys in them in San Francisco? These guys are lunatics. Maybe we should start messing with their menus. 😆
    Annie

    Like

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