This post is going to be a mix of several things that are generally useless and detrimental. For example, famous last words, wishful thinking and the realization that one should be careful for what one wishes. I think I deserve it though. In the past few weeks I found out that my ex spanked my eight year old with a wooden spoon until it broke and then a spatula after because she wouldn’t go to bed. I was granted holidays from work, made plans with and appointments for my children, then had my holidays taken away. (I got them back, but it cost me. I now feel guilty, even though I shouldn’t) I bombed an assignment in a 100 level history class. (This after a year and a half of college and a few higher level classes. Shame on me.) I still have an A in the class, but barely. I haven’t done any creative writing in a while and I feel as if my soul has withered as a result and, last but most certainly not least, a very good friend of mine died on Dec. 18th. He left behind a 9 year old son, an older stepson and a wife. He had been living on a kidney donated by his sister for several years. That kidney began to fail. A willing donor with a compatible kidney was found. This donor backed out after agreeing to donate. There are, of course, two sides to every story. I don’t know the suddenly reluctant donor’s side. I just know it resulted in the death of my friend and, more importantly, the making of a widow and a half-orphan. At a young age. At Christmas. The other side of this story better be good.
Anyway, the point of all this is, if you’re still reading, please indulge the following ridiculousness. It is necessary for my mental health.
I wish that all land-owners were immediately sovereign. Although impractical, the idea makes sufficient fodder for volumes of humorous digression. For example, one could pit nuclear families against one another. Of course, many years would have to pass under such a system for a family to obtain the resources to develop small-scale nuclear technology that could be used against the neighbors, but there are more immediate options available as well.
I have already determined a hierarchy, should this eventuality ever come to pass. I don’t own much land. And I have but sparing resources. I, as the imaginary patriarch of a sovereign family, must be creative. I, of course, would be exalted as He Who ( in this sovereign household at least) is as Powerful as One Can Be With the Authority to Decide Things With Autonomous Disregard (so long, of course, as my wife says its OK.) Coincidentally, my wife will be known as She Who is (actually) in Charge.
My son, now 6 going on 7, would be Secretary of Blowing Things Up. Despite the danger, I would give him all authority in such matters. I would secretly funnel supplies and funding to him. And, of course, I would insure his safety during development. My 10 year old daughter would be Minister of Slime. She already produces it in copious amounts. Her Christmas and birthday lists are inundated with requests for slime supplies. The uses are numerous. Disguised slime pits in front of entrances. Slime buckets above doors. Slime-a-pults that threaten to put out bar-b-q’s and deny sunlight to patches of grass. Also, if it lands on a head, the slime could necessitate the shaving of heads, much to the humiliation of neighboring enemies. My middle daughter, aged 8 years, would be Queen of Entertainment. Her ridiculous sense of humor serves, even in times of peace, to lighten any mood. She just this year asked Santa for a “weird, annoying chicken”. The simple implications of this juvenile request are staggeringly hilarious.
Less practical, yet somehow more plausible than tiny bombs, slime warfare and the chickens that are a (however implausibly) deadly annoyance, is the idea of drone/anti-drone technology. Certainly, the common civilian drone is readily available, having been prolifically produced in many iterations in the name of blind commercialism. These contraptions provide the possibility to spy on one’s (sovereign) neighbors, but not much else. Still, who wants to be spied on? My specialty will be defeating these. I will export such things as electro-magnetic perimeter generators or, for the more fun-loving sovereign land owner, mini computer controlled missile batteries. At first, they’ll simply be projectiles that work on the principle of aerodynamics. A rotor-based propulsion system fails catastrophically when one of the rotors is compromised by a ballistic strike. Eventually, I’ll develop the technology for rounds that emit electromagnetism in the vicinity of a drone or even tiny nuclear missiles that will render my (sovereign) neighbor’s land unenjoyable for years to come. I’ll need a lead fence. That could be difficult to procure.
Of course, there are problems with the sovereign land-owner system. Are roads public, or can I set up a checkpoint and require a passport for passage in front of my house? All land, obviously, must be bought from someone. It will likely be from the country in which the sovereign lawn-owner lives. There must still be over-arching federal laws in place. No fun. Sovereign shouldn’t be subject to Federal, but it likely would be. Unjust.
I bid you adieu…and a don’t.
Adieu…consider the benefits of the sovereign homeowner. It could be a lot of fun declaring war on the Jones’s rather than just trying to keep up with their backyard nuclear technology.
A don’t…consider this serious if you’re a Fed. It’s just a fun idea. All hail the government of the United States of America. I humbly submit to your precepts and obey all laws ad nauseum. Amen.