Monthly Archives: January 2009

Life In These United States

IOU, IRS

Yesterday I received a note from the IRS, telling me I underpaid my 2006 tax return. The damage comes to less than 60 bucks. So of course I will pay it, because I have no desire to get audited or lose any hope of ever owning anything of value.

But here’s the thing: A 2006 return is for the 2005 calendar year. That’s 4 years ago now. I have no effing clue what I did that year. I mean, I do, but I couldn’t prove it. I might have receipts and documents somewhere, but I wouldn’t count on it. At least, I wouldn’t count on having everything I need. I probably have my W2’s, but anything else is probably tucked away in some envelope shoved at the bottom of a milk crate, next to old seven-inches.

So it occurs to me that this is actually a fradulent revenue-raising tactic for the federal government. You take people who make a certain amount of money. You pick a year that’s long ago enough to be hazy in people’s memories, but not so long ago that it’s ridiculous. Then, you pick an amount of money that they “owe” that won’t kill anyone.

Say you get eight digits of Americans to just write a check. That ain’t chump change.

What if you fight it? Then you get summoned to your local IRS office. They seat you in a dimly lit room with one long desk and two seats. They make you sit there for a while and sweat it out. Then some officious looking person enters, sits across from you, and slides a manila envelope your way. You open it up and discover 8-by-10 glossies of yourself doing something awful.

YOU: Where’d you get these?
IRS GUY: That’s not important. What is important is for you to pay that fine.
YOU: Yeah, but what I’m doing here…technically, it’s not illegal.
IRS GUY: No, but I’d bet you still don’t want those pictures posted all over the Internet.
YOU: *sigh* Fine, I’ll get my checkbook.

We’re through the looking glass here, people…

Life In These United States

And that Little Boy Who Nobody Loved Grew Up to Be…

Just heard (thanks to eagle-eyed reader TheWhiteBoomBoom) that the kid from Jersey named Adolf Hitler has been taken from his parents. Contain your shock if you can, please.

Most people, I’m sure, are happy to hear this. Me, I just hope his home situation was actually abusive or unsafe enough to warrant this move, because I think kids should only be put into foster care under extreme circumstances. I fear that the town Adolf lives in was embarrassed by the attention and pressured into doing something, even if his parents provided him a reasonable home.

Maybe reasonable isn’t the right word. How about adequate? Tolerable? Sufficient in all respects except for constant stream of hatred issuing from dad’s mouth?

My point is, yeah, I yelled bout this case when it popped up like everyone else. But on further reflection, I just hope the relocation was necessary. Being racist doesn’t necessarily make you an unfit parent. If it did, then at least half of the kids I grew up with should have been taken away by Child Protective Services.

Then again, simply naming your kid Adolf Hitler is a form of abuse. That’s a scar that ain’t gonna heal.

Tuneage

If You Want Some of this Dirty…

Last night I was watching VH1’s Greatest Hip Hop Songs of All Time or whatever the hell it was called (too lazy to look up real title). “C.R.E.A.M.” by Wu Tang came in pretty high on the list, of course. When noting Wu Tang’s current hiatus, the narrator mentioned “the tragic death of ODB in 2004.”

I think the proper adjective in this case would be untimely. I don’t think Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s death can really be termed tragic. In fact, considering his many, many vices, he probably exceeded his life expectancy.  

Not that I’m glad the guy’s dead, but saying ODB’s death was tragic is kinda like saying GG Allin’s death was tragic. Can’t keep putting your tongue on the third rail and not get zapped some day.

Then again, it is a kind of tragedy that we’re all robbed of the chance to see something like this again: