About two years ago, I stopped renewing the registration for several of my bikes (I have five). Basically, all the ones that aren’t antiques (which have one-time-fee “permanent” tags in my state). I just got sick of sending in $50 per bike per year. On top of everything else. On top of the taxes I paid when I bought each bike. The taxes I paid to title each bike. The taxes I pay each year to maintain the fiction that I own the bike (you know, property taxes). And then the taxes I pay each time I ride the bike (gas taxes).
It’s a lot of taxes. Paid with what’s leftover after federal, state and local taxes – plus FICA (double for me, because I’m self-employed).
I figure I’ve more than paid my “fair share” already. So I decided to give myself a tax cut. I just round-filed the annual dunning letters sent my way – and motored on.
This has saved me a decent pile of money: $300 or so that would have otherwise gone into the maw of Clover Central to pay for useless eaters and other such things as opposed to (for example) a new set of tires for me!
This works out much better than the advice given by the DMV in the letter they sent me – that I could “Save $$$ – Renew b y Internet or for Multiple Years.” I find I save much more money by not “renewing” at all!
Now, here’s the thing: Failing to renew vehicle registration is a minor “offense” (I choke having to use Clover’s terminology). If, in the unlikely event, you do get caught, plead forgetfulness and the worst that they’ll do is issue a ticket for expired tags. No worries about thug scrums and Tazerings – or even impoundment of your vehicle. After all, you do have tags – and are “registered.” It’s merely that your tags/registration are expired.
Probably, you’ll never be caught – because on a bike, the tags are small – much smaller than a car’s license plates – and so much less visible. Tthe little stickers they give you each year to indicate you’ve paid your tributum are even smaller – and that much less visible. License plate frames have been know to further help in that regard. Unless a road tax collector (cop) is directly behind you – easy enough to avoid – it is extremely unlikely one will ever notice your tags are two or three – or ten – years out of date. Just keep your eyes open, and if you do see (or smell) a cop, maneuver so as to avoid the cop’s direct line of sight. Park – if you have to – in such a way that any passing porker won’t be able to easily see your plate.
This is an example of the kind of thing you can still “get away with” (god, more Clover Cant) and ought to try getting away with. If you were in a POW camp the issue would be obvious – and most if not all the prisoners would be constantly looking for ways to evade/avoid the authority of the guards – if not make good their escape. But because we’re all residents of a giant tax farm – which amounts to the same thing but which provides the illusion of “freedom” – most people not only pay their tributum – they feel obliged to. They accept – at least implicitly – the doctrine that they “owe” whatever it is the letter they got in the mail tells them they “owe.” It is an amazing thing, when you stop to consider it – once your eyes have been opened and your mind awakened to the true nature of our reality. The Mafia sends Luca Brasi. The government sends you a letter. Most people fear – and resent – Luca Brasi. But while most people resent the government, they accept its demands that they pay up as legitimate.
Not this clown.
Taxation – all taxation – is theft. And we are taxed to such an extent, so pervasively, that Luca Brasi must stand in awe. He is a dilettante, an amateur – a child playing an adult’s game. Why shake them down just once – every once in a while – when you can shake them down on a regular schedule, at multiple levels – and never (or almost never) have to even raise your voice or even use your voice?
A mere letter will suffice.
Luca can be dealt with directly enough. But – for now – the only real option open to us as far as dealing with the other Luca is to practice non-compliance, quibbling, evasion… the classic “I forgot.” Think of a mouse darting around the columns of an elephant’s legs. Eventually, the elephant will fall over.
In the meantime, just be careful not to get stepped on.