Friday, July 17, 2009

"...this will stop when you stop feeding it."

I do love it when Billy puts things so neatly. It's damnably sad reading but it's all right there.
As plainly put as it ever has been. And, once again, he has to point out to someone who hasn't bothered to find out for themselves that he is not one to be "all hat, no cattle".

Were that I had as much courage and conviction. Tick tock indeed.

3 comments:

D.W. said...

While I really enjoy reading Beck's site, and even linked to it on my own, I wonder (with a certain amount of envy!) how does one go without paying taxes for over 30 years without going VFR direct to jail? Is there more to this story?

Curious minds want to know... :-)

wv: warberes
An alcoholic beverage served in combat zones?

LauraB said...

Ah, therein a tale, no? My suspicions? They know he's right. They know he has nothing of value to take other than his freedom. And they know if they take that it means they've made him a martyr. A smarter martyr.

I recall there was a case once - I may even have the printout somewhere - about a man who demanded that they prove he owed them a dime.

He won the case but it was very quiet. This would have been...`96ish? I THINK there was a snippet of memory there telling me the feds tried again and won but for the life of me I can't recall.

Needs the work of someone with time and a Lexis Nexis acct.

Billy Beck said...

It wasn't even really a "case", Laura. It was a face-to-face sit-down with an IRS agent in Atlanta. 1992, I think. He'd invited me to attend with all my records. So, there we sat across the table from each other: him with a stack of bullshit about six inches high, and me with whatever I was reading that week. He asked where my records were. I told him that if I'd wanted to be an accountant, I would not have become a lighting director.

I told him that he should just do his worst, but he was never going to see a dime of anything I produced, and walked out.

For years afterward, I got really boring post cards from them. The last I heard, about fifteen years ago, they wanted $103,000 of my favorite dollars.

*Never*. They will take me to prison, first.