A christmas carol

A CHRISTMAS CAROL (with apologies to Dickens)
Our story begins in the bedchamber of Ebenezer Famspear, CPA attorned purveyor of disinformation. It is Christmas Eve and Famspear, weary and tired, seeks only rest but is disturbed by a distant clinking sound. The noise grew steadily louder and he began to perceive a groaning sound along with it. ‘Humbug!’ said Famspear and closed his eyes. He then remembered that ghosts in haunted houses were described as dragging chains. At this he opened his eyes and made out an old man, an apparition really for it appeared more dead than alive yet moving and making a awful racket.
The chain he drew was clasped about his middle. It was long, and wound about him like a tail; and at its end a heavy steel box inscribed "Federal Reserve/IRS." His body was transparent; so that Famspear, observing him, and looking through his waistcoat, could see the two buttons on his coat behind.
‘Who are you?’ said Famspear, caustic and cold as ever.
‘Ask me who I was.’
‘Who were you then?’ said Famspear, raising his voice.
‘In life I was your partner & victim, Jacob Taxpayer.’
‘Dumb ass!’ returned Famspear, ‘You see this toothpick? I have but to swallow this, and be for the rest of my days persecuted by a legion of goblins, all of my own creation. Humbug, I tell you! humbug!’

At this the spirit raised a frightful cry, and shook its chain with such a dismal and appalling noise, that Famspear held on tight to his keyboard, to save himself from falling in a swoon. But how much greater was his horror, when the phantom taking off the bandage round its head, as if it were too warm to wear indoors, its lower jaw dropped down upon its breast!
Famspear fell upon his knees, and clasped his hands before his face.
‘Mercy!’ he said. ‘Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me?’
‘Man of the worldy mind!’ replied the Ghost. ‘Do you believe in me or not?’
‘I do,’ said Famspear. ‘I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?’
‘It is required of every man,’ the Ghost returned, ‘that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow men, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world—oh, woe is me!—and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness!’

Again the specter raised a cry, and shook its chain and wrung its shadowy hands.

‘You are fettered,’ said Famspear, trembling. ‘Tell me why.’

‘I wear the Tax-chain I forged in life,’ replied the Ghost. ‘I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it. Is its pattern strange to you?’
Famspear trembled more and more.

‘Or would you know,’ pursued the Ghost, ‘the weight and length of the tax coil you bear yourself? It was full as heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. You have labored on it, since. It is a ponderous chain!’
Famspear glanced about him on the floor, in the expectation of finding himself surrounded by some fifty or sixty fathoms of iron cable; but he could see nothing.

‘Jacob,’ he said, imploringly. ‘Old Jacob Taxpayer, tell me more. Speak comfort to me, Jacob!’

‘I have none to give,’ the Ghost replied. ‘Oh! captive, bound, and double–ironed,’ cried the phantom, ‘not to know, the years of labor paying a tax easily avoided! And you Famspear & all your sockpuppets, with your distraction, lies & ridicule. Your incessant jawboning about "3121 wages, you have no proof ... wackadoosters." Your nasty Cyber Museum of Scams & Frauds hides the real scam and supports the largest fraud on earth - central banking. But in death we learn the truth of a very limited tax, but crafted by men like you Famspear, to deceive and ensnare an entire nation!'

‘Stop spirit, I pray thee!’

‘You will be haunted,’ resumed the Ghost, ‘by Three Spirits.’

Old Famspear awoke in darkness feeling fully near rested, and studying his watch saw it was midnight. He saw a candle floating in the darkness, no, it was a strange figure—like a child with a flame upon its head. Light flashed up in the room upon the instant.

"You? Are you the Spirit whose coming was foretold?"
"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."
"Long past?" inquired Famspear: observant of its dwarfish nature.
"No. Your past."
He then made bold to inquire what business brought him there.
"Your welfare!" said the Ghost. "Take heed and walk with me."
"I am mortal, Ebenezer remonstrated, "and liable to fall."
"Bear but a touch of my hand there," said the Spirit, laying it upon his heart, "and you shall be upheld in more than this!"

As the words were spoken, they passed through the wall, beyond the city and saw farms, tall white mansions and little shacks. They stood upon an open country road, with fields on either hand. The darkness and the mist had vanished with it, for it was a clear winter day.
"Good Heaven!" said Famspear, looking around, "I was bred in this place. I was a boy here!"

He was conscious of a thousand odors floating in the air, each one connected with a thousand thoughts, and hopes, and joys, and cares long, long, forgotten! He begged the Ghost to lead him where he would.

"You recollect the way?" inquired the Spirit.
"Remember it!" cried Ebenezer with fervour; "I could walk it blindfold."
"Strange to have forgotten it for so many years!" observed the Ghost. "Let us go on."

They walked along the road, Famspear recognising every gate, post and tree; until a little town appeared in the distance. Some kids were seen playing marbles.
"Yes, that's Ben, Billy & Larry! and there is Marcia. I teased her badly."

Some children were throwing stones when glass shattered.
"Yes I broke the window. No matter tho, Billy took the rap."

Ahead some bicycles were seen rolling towards them with boys, who called to others. All were in great spirits, and shouted to each other, until the walkways were so full of merry music, that the crisp air laughed to hear it!
They went into the corner store and watched the boys buy penny candy.
"Oh, we bought such a lot of candy for a quarter!"
"You still can with a silver quarter. worth over $5." said the Spirit.
"You're right. You're absolutely right! we had real money then you know. Before the ..."
"These are but shadows of the things that have been," said the Ghost. "They have no consciousness of us."

The jocund travellers came on; and as they came, Famspear knew and named them every one. Why was he rejoiced beyond all bounds to see them! Why did his cold eye glisten, and his heart leap up as they went past! Why was he filled with gladness when he heard them give each other Merry Christmas, as they parted at cross-roads and bye-ways, for their several homes! But what was merry Christmas to a Quatloser? Out upon merry Christmas! What good had it ever done to him?

The sky grew dark and thunder rumbled in the distance.
"We must go now." ushered the Spirit, pointing towards the door.
It opened; and a little girl, much younger than the boy, came darting in, and putting her arms about his neck, and often kissing him, addressed him as her "Dear, dear brother."

"I have come to bring you home, dear brother!" said the child, clapping her tiny hands, and bending down to laugh. "To bring you home, home, home!"

"Home, little Fan?" returned the boy.

"Yes!" said the child, brimful of glee. "Home, for good and all. Home, forever and ever. Father is so much kinder than he used to be, that home's like Heaven!

They came upon a porch with children playing a board game.
"Free Parking. Oh the orange five hundreds!"
"She seems agitated." Said the Spirit. "Are you cheating?"
"No I, you don't understand... I had to win, I was the banker! Spirit, why do you torture me?"

"The law school is not quite deserted," said the Ghost. "A solitary student, neglected by his friends, is left there still."

Ebenezer said he knew it. And he sobbed.

The Ghost stopped at a certain counting house and viewed an old gentleman mentoring an apprentice. The man counseled that general deposits were different than special deposits and must'n be intermixed.
"Why, it's old Fezziwig! Bless his heart; it's Fezziwig the bank auditor alive again! T'was here I first heard of private credit vs public money, the puzzle of lawful money, as a conundrum wrapped in bacon. If a FRN is lawful money, and a FRN can be redeemed in lawful money, does the FRN redeem itself, into itself?" said Ebenezer, licking his lips.
"Did you cut a deal?" asked the imp.
"He told me the taxpayer will pay, all we needed was consent; we could legally trick them into it."
"Did you write this? asked the Spirit, pointing to a masterwerk of deception.
Famspear seemed uneasy in his mind; and answered, "no I didn't write that, I typed it."

"Spirit!" said Famspear, "show me no more! Conduct me home. Why do you delight to torture me?"

"One shadow more!" exclaimed the Ghost.

"No more!" cried Famspear. "No more. I don't wish to see it. Show me no more!"

But the relentless Ghost pinioned him in both his arms, and forced him to observe what happened next.

They were in another scene and place; a room, not very large or handsome, but full of comfort. Near to the winter fire sat a beautiful young girl, until he saw her, now a comely matron, sitting opposite her daughter. The master of the house sat down with her and her mother at his own fireside; and when he thought that such another creature, quite as graceful and as full of promise, might have called him father, and been a spring-time in the haggard winter of his life, his sight grew very dim indeed.

"Belle," said the husband, turning to his wife with a smile, "I saw an old friend of yours this afternoon."

"Who was it?"

"Guess!"

"How can I? Tut, don't I know?" she added in the same breath, laughing as he laughed. "Mr. Famspear."

"Mr. Famspear it was. I passed his forum; and I could scarcely help seeing him, clattering on his keyboard. His partner lies upon the point of death, I hear; and there he sat alone. Quite alone in the world, I do believe."

"Spirit!" said Ebenezer in a broken voice, "remove me from this place."

"I told you these were shadows of the things that have been," said the Ghost. "That they are what they are, do not blame me!"

"Remove me!" sooltauq exclaimed, "I cannot bear it!"

He turned upon the Ghost, and seeing that it looked upon him with a face, in which in some strange way there were fragments of all the faces it had shown him, wrestled with it.

"Leave me! Take me back. Haunt me no longer!"

In the struggle, if that can be called a struggle in which the Ghost with no visible resistance on its own part was undisturbed by any effort of its adversary, Ebenezer observed that its light was burning high and bright; and dimly connecting that with its influence over him, he seized the extinguisher-cap, and by a sudden action pressed it down upon its head. The Spirit dropped beneath it, so that the extinguisher covered its whole form; but though Famspear pressed it down with all his force, he could not hide the light: which streamed from under it, in an unbroken flood upon the ground.

He was conscious of being exhausted, and overcome by an irresistible drowsiness; and, further, of being in his own bedroom. He gave the cap a parting squeeze, in which his hand relaxed; and had barely time to reel to bed, before he sank into a heavy sleep.

AWAKING in the middle of a prodigiously tough snore, and sitting up in bed to get his thoughts together, Famspear had no occasion to believe the other members knew that many of the others were actually logins of his own creation. If I pose a question and answer with my other logins, who shall know I am but talking to myself? That Johnny knew there was no doubt but did not boast of it, generally. The tax scam must be kept alive by any means necessary and Famspear was acquainted with them all and the quatloser took great pride in being its foremost practitioner.

Gentlemen of the attorney mindset, who plume themselves on being acquainted with a case or two, know how to lie. That is not illegal. If an arborist can twist a twig, cannot the words of a judge be twisted into submission until in time it appears a great arching branch? Famspear knew it well. That is to say, he knew the court could be thought to say what it didn't. And could not a man be made to think he possesses that which he does not? To persuade him into thinking he has taxable income, a large portion of men may really believe it - may actually file a 1040 tax return! What a boon for a bankster!

Yet, Taxpayer's Ghost bothered him exceedingly. He was not sure why. Such a disturbance like this never did before. That which is called conscience had never been active within him and he always thought it special. "Someone's been praying for me. That's it," muttered Famspear, "freaken retarded moron."

Now, being prepared for almost anything, he was not by any means prepared for nothing; and, consequently, when he saw it was past One, and no shape appeared, he was taken with a violent fit of trembling. All this time, he lay upon his bed, the very core and centre of a blaze of ruddy light, which streamed upon it; and which, being only light, was more alarming than a dozen ghosts, as he was powerless to make out what it meant, or would be too--at last, I say, he began to think that the source and secret of this ghostly light might be in the adjoining room, from whence, on further tracing it, it seemed to shine. This idea taking full possession of his attorner mind, he got up softly and shuffled in his slippers to the doorknob.

It was his own library, no doubt. In easy state upon his couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see; who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty's horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Famspear, as he came peeping round the door.
"Come in!" exclaimed the Ghost. "Come in! and know me better, man!"
"How did you get here?" Famspear demanded.
"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," said the Spirit. "Look upon me! Have you ever seen the like of me before!"
"Never," Said Famspear.

"I've been perusing your collection here." said the Apparition naming & tossing each volume aside:
Advanced Social Engineering
Propaganda Due
Disinfo for Dummies
Bank Examiners Handbook
Psychological Warfare Operations Manual
J.P.MorganChase Currency Report
Astroturfing

"Get yer cotton-pickin hands off my..." exclaimed Famspear.
"and what's with all these computers?" interrupted the Phantom. "If I were to call you the internet's largest defender of the world's biggest scam — the Federal Reserve bank & tax scam — would it be far off the mark?"
"The medium of exchange is moot!" protested Famspear.
"Save it liar, your mojo don't work on Ghosts. Let's go for a ride, shall we?"

As the far wall melted away they were outside now and entering a conveyance, he saw it were more declaration than question.
"What is this contraption and are you licensed to drive it?" asked Famspear.
"It's a thingamajigger," said the Ghost, "and no, we're traveling by right!"
"I myself drive 18 wheeler." said Famspear.
At this the giant turned suddenly spilling glitter from his torch which fell upon Famspear's crown whereupon he uttered "Just kidding."

They next came upon a scene of raucous noise, a family celebrating amidst all manner of toys and foodstuffs.
"Oh, that guy with orange NONTAXPAYER shirt. I know him, that's Johnny the clown." said Famspear, "There, see he's chasing the midget!"
"Are you blind? That's no midget, that's his kid." replied the Ghost.
"You know that weasel hasn't paid hasn't paid his mortgage in 3 years!" said Famspear, "and He's a nontaxpayer because of me."
"Oh please. I hear he sells things for bitcoin."
"Bitcoin is stupid." said Famspear.
"You would like the peeps to think so." said the Ghost.

Famspear then found himself flying with the Ghost past hills & mountains, and feeling not a little uneasy with the dizzying heights.
"That's Bishop Castle. and over there, yep it's motor scooter Merrill, the incompetent... cube sum number locks, my eye."
"By some accounts 'a genius'" said the Ghost.
"David merrill vanpelt is a pansy ass liar" said Famspear. "What if lotsa people started redeeming lawful money, huh? Ever think of that?"
"Is that why you banished him from your webstie?
"Listen, TAXPAYERS MUST COVER THE BANKS LOSSES. Do you want banks to fail?"
"Sounds great to me!" replied the Ghost.
"I do my job, OKAY. I have to ... THE COMPANY... they threatened my family." said Famspear.
"If not by your hand then you're not responsible." said the Apparition, "I detect some feeling for others right there."

"Let us view another Christmas celebration, say what?" At this they whisked away again, over forests and settling amidst snowy roofs. A family dining room laid out with such a wide assortment of meats and harvest goodies; the odor of warm pumpkin pie lingering in the air.
"Don't tell me, it's Prevaricating Pete and the entire blowhard brood!" said Famspear.
Then all the family drew round the hearth; and at Pete's elbow stood the family display of glass. Three tumblers, and a custard-cup without a handle. These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as golden goblets would have done; and Pete served it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and cracked noisily. Then Pete proposed:

"A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us!"

Which all the family re-echoed.

"God bless us every one!" said ShadowKat, the last of all.

"Spirit," said Famspear, with an interest in the matron he had never felt before, "She is to be sentenced soon; tell me if ..."

"I see a vacant seat," replied the Ghost, "If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future."
"No, no," said Ebenezer. "Oh, no, kind Spirit! say she will be spared."

"If these shadows remain unaltered by the Future, none other of my race," returned the Ghost, "will find her here. What then? And the answer is no, you will not be allowed to insist on a special reservation allowing you to "bunk with Pete" when you're admitted to the Graybar Hotel...."

Famspear hung his head to hear his own words quoted by the Spirit, and was overcome with penitence and grief.
"Man," said the Ghost, "if man you be in heart, not adamant, forbear that wicked cant until you have discovered What prison is, and Where it is. Will you decide what men shall live free, what men shall labor for parasites? Enticing them into a tax slavery so easily avoided? It may be, that in the sight of Heaven, you are more worthless and less fit to live than millions like this poor man's wife. Oh God! to hear the Insect on the leaf pronouncing on the freedom among his hungry brothers in the dust!"

Famspear bent before the Ghost's rebuke, and trembling cast his eyes upon the ground. But he raised them speedily, on hearing his own name.

"Mr. Famspear!" said Pete; "I'll give you Mr. Famspear, the Founder of the Feast!"

"The Founder of the Feast indeed!" cried the Mrs, reddening. "I wish I had him here. I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, and hope he'd have a good appetite for it."

"My dear," said Pete, "the children! Christmas Day."

"It should be Christmas Day, I am sure," said she, "on which one drinks the health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr. Famspear. You know he is, Peter! Nobody knows it better than you do, poor fellow!"

"My dear," was Pete's mild answer, "Christmas Day."

THE Phantom slowly, gravely, silently, approached. It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, its face, its form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand. He knew no more, for the Spirit neither spoke nor moved.

"I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?" said Famspear.

The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand.

"You are to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us, right?" Famspear pursued.

The upper portion of the garment was contracted for an instant in its folds, as if the Spirit had inclined its head. That was the only answer he received.

Well used to ghostly company by this time, Famspear exclaimed "Bah! Dressing in an oversize hoodie like a reaper isn't foolin' anyone. I'm not ascared. You're pathetic."

It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them.

"Lead on!" said Famspear. "Lead on! We haven't got all night, I know."

The Phantom moved away as it had come towards him. Famspear followed in the shadow of its garb, which bore him up, he thought, and carried him along.

They scarcely seemed to enter the city; for the city rather seemed to spring up about them, and encompass them of its own act. But there they were, in the heart of a great commotion. People bustling, coming & going, buying & selling.

"You see that?" said Famspear nudging the Phantom, "they're all using our currency! Beautiful, I say. And paying our sacred tax for the privilege! and nearly perfect for the banks too ...Not one man in a million can figure it out. Of course DMV did. Just like the other forums we've got his Colorado group fully infiltrated ... but that Suitors site is tough, I'm getting no traction there. Nonetheless, I shall prevail, for I am Knight Templar of the Sacred Tax Scam!"

The Spirit looked downward, brought its hand to its face, gesturing a massive facepalm, then pointed at the counter.

"What?"

Looking closer Famspear saw the customer was paying with gold & silver coins! At another, a woman was paying with her phone.

"See there? she's paying with the trust bank account." said Famspear.

The Phantom shook its head. Upon further inspection they could see she was paying with bitcoin.

"NOooo." said Famspear "This cannot be!"

Another customer was counting lawful money TRNs from his wallet. "What is that, a Treasury Note? Government money?" said Famspear clutching his head. "NOoooo. this cannot be. Where's our sacred FRN?!"

Here they were transported to a large building, a modern day fortress of stone, glass and steel. However the gate was breached, several windows broken or missing, and little green bills blew in the wind. "WAR PIGS" had been painted on the wall and graffiti "SCAM" had been appended to the overhead banner "Federal Reserve." Around the alley a homeless man lay sleeping on a bed of Federal Reserve notes as many more swirled around in the trash.

"These FRN's need to go toward good use." said BrainySmurf76.
"Nooooo! It wasn't supposed to go down like this, our NWO currency was to replace the dollar."

The Spirit stopped beside a little knot of professional men. Observing that the hand was pointed to them, Famspear advanced to listen to their talk.

"No," said a quatloser with a monstrous chin, "I don't know much about it, either way. I only know he's dead."

"When did he die?" inquired another.

"Last night, I believe."

At length they came to a Denny's restaurant with a cemetery out back. The Spirit stood among the graves, and pointed down to One.

"Phantom, you are cruuuuueeel and unusual!" said Famspear. "Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point, answer me one question. Who is Johnny shadow and where can I find him?"

Still the Ghost pointed downward to the grave by which it stood.

"Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead," said Famspear. "But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. I can act penitent if it'll help! Say it is thus with what you show me!"

The Spirit was immovable as ever.

Famspear crept towards it, mumbling as he went; and following the finger, read upon the stone of the neglected grave his own name, EBENEZER FAMSPEAR.