The W-4 is the hand of a ghost. Just like any superstition, we accept it on our own volition. This form initiates our haunting, and begins the process of voluntary extortion. This paranormal activity is all too real by the guns and bombs of agents entranced in its spell. We have all drank from this ghost’s poison, and held in the intoxication of its grip we do what we want to. Unless we fear what we could do, and therefore don’t. The cartels of past till present have all schemed this same transcription, but rarely are they so bold as to put it into writing. Words of coercion make laws that feign the best of intentions, but spawn militant campaigns manifesting the horrifying results of none a more reckless poltergeist. The casualties of the ghost do catch bullets and daggers to the back, but most get torment in purgatory. Sentenced there by their esteemed champions of freedom, justice, peace, and equality. All hail these glorious actions leading to death, rape, assault, and financial ruin. That is promised if only you neglect your tribute. The ghost makes slaves of us all, statistically. The greater theoretical economic agency a person obtains, the more he must tithe to this supernatural altar of the State. The audience might think we need the fair shake the W-4 falsifies, proudly proclaiming “Wha ‘bout muh roads?” To which I reply, “I’m ready to fly”. Why is it that the best way to protect our freedoms is through a geopolitical zeitgeist robbing us of half of them? I find this racketeering a subtle form of human trafficking, carried out by the most legitimately sadistic institutions within all societies.

But hey, that’s the law, and we can all pray for a hefty tax return.
Be happy and rejoice in what those funds were not used for.


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