I just want the government to stay out of my way: I don't want its "help"-- which means breaking my leg, then offering me a cast. But since I can't get rid of them completely, I at least want them to focus on making my life better, not miserable.

Take little Petey Buttplug here, who wants to "electrify" the "vehicle fleet"-- my car is part of his "fleet" now?-- but who thus runs into a little problem: how to shake people down for money, if they're no longer paying the gasoline tax?

Simple: just remotely monitor every single human's car on the entire landmass, like Eric Peters discusses in this piece, then send them a bill. Your entire life will be like that of a UPS driver, with a micromanaging boss hovering over you. Except unlike UPS, where you can quit the job and tell your boss where to shove it, the government is a corporation you can never quit-- and little Petey the boss you can never shake.

Sounds a little bit like slavery-- or indentured servitude. But never mind that; you're just thinking too hard (too clearly).

Now, I'm not objecting to the form of the tax per se: consumption taxes are far better than, for example, increasing the income tax-- but think of the possible consequences of the State having the power to quite literally shut down your ability to travel, if you're one of those persnickety "domestic terrorists."

And don't think you're off the hook Lefties, because tomorrow it'll be you who is defined as such, after the precedent is set and once the next regime is in power.

Beyond that, what if I don't want my car in the "fleet" to be electric? My 350z is perfect, in the sense that it's not even drive-by-wire: it has a physical throttle body mechanism (2003's were the only model year which can stake that claim). In the words of Steve Martin, it's "four fucking wheels and a seat"-- and I'm not giving that up.

Since when-- and how-- can little Petey Buttplug step into my living room, and dictate to me that I'm not allowed to drive my car anymore? What gives him this magical authority-- fairies and unicorn dust?

But most people don't stop to ask these questions: they are so conditioned to just do as they're told because someone has a pseudo-random but official-sounding "job title", or because the person is wearing a shiny badge, or because the person has a bright green vest on, or because obeying relieves the stress of needing to think for one's self, or any myriad of other reasons.

When a twat at the CDC or some other "who the hell cares" organization says "bend over", people respond "oh goody! how far?"

Meanwhile, little Petey Buttplug and his gang of freaks and busybodies stand around making lists: "what would make Sniper's life better, let's do the exact opposite."