What are you afraid of, you voters? Afraid that people like Ron Paul will pull the plug on your favorite government “charity”? Afraid that restoring the Constitutional limits of our out-of-control government will end your subsidies? Your ill-gotten pensions? Your idle-farm subsidy? Afraid a fair tax system that treats all as equals before the law will decimate your tax-deductible charitable donations? Afraid that a government operating within it’s only legitimate role as guardian of unalienable rights will put an end to your cherished “public services”?

Did you really think it was the proper role of government to provide services to you at the expense of those who do not consent to your legalized plunder? And do you really think that you can continue on indefinitely, demanding these services at the expense of your fellow men simply because they are “good” for the community? Good by whose definition?

The day of reckoning is fast upon us, when all natural laws must be fulfilled, when your subsidies will end in a disastrous manner. You cannot defy the eternal laws of nature. You cannot continue your legalized plunder and not pay the debts of a thief. Taking where you have not earned, giving where you have no right to give. You cannot continue to steal the fruit from the vineyard in ever-increasing amounts, and think that the lord of the vineyard will simply continue to work for your supply. He will at some point end his production. The vines will wither and die, and you will be left helpless.

Call me a wingnut, a “tea bagger”, a racist, a religious nut, an “Uncle Tom” or whatever in the hell else your puppet masters instruct you. Damn you for your perversion of the law. Damn you for making me a “criminal” just because I cannot, nor can anyone else, comprehend the hundreds of thousands of pages of legal code you and your minions have crafted. And damn you for destroying all that has been good in America. Generations of children will grow to curse you as the yoke of bondage descends heavy upon their shoulders.

“I do!” replies the public educator, “I have spent my life teaching the child of my neighbor the wisdom of the ages!”

I would ask the educator: did you also love the man who never had children, from whom your wages were forcefully taken in the form of a tax on his personal life, liberty, and property?

“But, it was a noble cause, to teach the children! I was merely providing for the general welfare of the child!”

Was it not the responsibility of the parent to teach the child?

“But the parent was not capable, or did not choose to!”

Consider the lilies of the field, the birds of the air. Is not the eye of God on these, and greater? Is not the ever watchful eye of the Almighty on the child as well? Will you mock God? Was it not God who placed the child with the parent, instructing the parent to bring up the child? And if the parent fails in his mission, is it not God who shall stand to judge, and to ultimately provide? Would not God, through the free exercise of agency, the invisible hand of Providence, have established a system to educate the child? If not the parent to educate, would not schools have been built by free men to provide for the education of the child? Would not you, as an educator, have been one of those men?

“But, not all parents would have been able to afford it! It is necessary to provide for the general welfare of the child!”

Is this then the justification for violating the commandment “Thou shalt not steal” in order to fulfill the commandment to love your neighbor? Think you that the general public would not, without compulsion, provide for the education of the child? Is it not the realm of the church to provide for the charity through the charitable giving of men? Is it not the alms that are given, freely, without compulsion, by individuals to the church that should be used to educate the less fortunate? And if not the church, then alms freely given to private charities and schools, schools which exist with no hint of compulsion? Would not funds be provided from the charity of individuals?

“Free men cannot be trusted to provide charity!”

Will you continue to mock God? Will you continue to say He will not provide? Do you truly believe that the freedoms won in the great war in Heaven are not designed appropriately by God to provide justice and mercy to each individual? Will you deny the vast sums of charity given by the free people of these United States, above and beyond the “charity” wrested from them by threat of imprisonment by the law?

“But, we must make sure that no child fails! We must make sure to the best of our ability that they all make it!”

Will you stop to consider that this is not the plan of God? That He fully knows that not all will make it? ‘Tis the plan of the evil one to force all to succeed. Consider the word of God in the matter:

“Howbeit that he made the greater star; as, also, if there be two spirits, and one shall be more intelligent than the other, yet these two spirits, notwithstanding one is more intelligent than the other, have no beginning; they existed before, they shall have no end, they shall exist after, for they are gnolaum, or eternal.

“And the Lord said unto me: These two facts do exist, that there are two spirits, one being more intelligent than the other; there shall be another more intelligent than they; I am the Lord thy God, I am more intelligent than they all.” (Abraham 3:18-19)

Is not each child unique? Is not the intelligence of one as different from another, even as the stars in heaven differ from one another in brightness? And who is better chosen of God to understand this uniqueness than the parent?

“And I, the Lord God, spake unto Moses, saying: That Satan, whom thou hast commanded in the name of mine Only Begotten, is the same which was from the beginning, and he came before me, saying—Behold, here am I, send me, I will be thy son, and I will redeem all mankind, that one soul shall not be lost, and surely I will do it; wherefore give me thine honor.

“But, behold, my Beloved Son, which was my Beloved and Chosen from the beginning, said unto me—Father, thy will be done, and the glory be thine forever.

“Wherefore, because that Satan rebelled against me, and sought to destroy the agency of man, which I, the Lord God, had given him, and also, that I should give unto him mine own power; by the power of mine Only Begotten, I caused that he should be cast down;” (Moses 4:1-3)

Is not the agency of man the most sacred trust we have been given? Is not this the one object the devil sought to destroy? And if agency would be destroyed, would not God himself cease to be God, would not all creation cease to exist?

When all is considered, the public education of our children is at best a plundering of the property of man. At worst, a denial of the infinite justice of the Father and infinite Mercy of His Son.

Wind doesn’t always blow, and the sun doesn’t always shine, but nuclear power runs 24/7. These units could be installed in almost any location thereby reducing the need for additional expensive and property-invasive transmission lines.

Seems like something we should all be aware of. A simple vote on freeing up more oil in the near term is needed now, coupled with some uncommon Progress by a historically restrictive Congress to allow private companies to go ahead with innovations like these nuclear “hot tubs”. This type of nuclear innovation needs to be a part of our “all of the above” energy solutions and would help put America back on top in the energy arena. We’ve spent a lot of time and money as tax payers to build our nuclear know-how in the U.S.A. Let’s put that know-how to work for us.

The reason for our current economic woes is simple. Too much government. As simple as that. Too many people look to government for their support. If people knew they had no government subsidies waiting to bail them out of their stupid consumption habits, consumption would never have gotten out of control. And if people were educated on financial matters, instead of social studies, they would know how to avoid stupid consumer debt traps. Simple. Get the government out of the markets, really. Let people freely interact. The government’s only legitimate role should be to prevent criminals from stealing my life, liberty, and property so that I can continue to freely interact. Unfortunately it is the government now which is stealing the American dream of life, liberty, and property; an out-of-control beast that is devouring our liberties at an unprecedented rate.

Our government steals life by taxing us to a degree that 7 out of 12 months of the year’s labors go to taxes. It steals liberty in that I cannot, without the government’s approval, build a house, start a business, or otherwise work to improve my lot in life, in so many ways. The Declaration of independence states that one of the grievances against the crown was the king sending swarms of officers to harass the people and eat out their substance. Is this not true of us today in America? And government steals property for both of the reasons above, plus the illegal takings that occur each and every day through unconstitutional takings such as Kelo vs New London, planning and zoning, building inspection by foolish (yes, foolish) and self-serving inspectors, unreasonable EPA regulations, etc.

We are not losing our country and freedoms because of uncontrolled consumerism, we’re losing it because of out of control government. Consumerism is self-adjusting when allowed to operate freely. Adam Smith knew this. The “Invisible Hand” guided the building and progress of America for over 200 years, yet the arm which holds that hand has been mostly amputated by those seeking to overthrough your freedom.

The US Constitution was written on 4 sheets of paper. Very simple, and very effective. All the talking heads in the world can’t come up with a better system. And it’s all based on the freedom of people to interact as they choose, free from government abuse, and free from criminal acts. Plain and simple and true.

This “shining city” has lost it’s luster, and is crumbling fast. We must work to restore her foundations. And the solutions are far simpler than we might think. Getting rid of all the deadweight is the hard part.

Free Troll: Did I tell you about http://www.fairtax.org?
Troll’s Brother: I think you did.
Free Troll: I think it’s gaining steam, slowly.
Troll’s Brother: so what is it in thirty seconds?
Free Troll: A national sales tax at 23%, repeal of the 16th amendment so Congress couldn’t pull a fast one and impose the national sales tax PLUS retain income taxes, elimination of the IRS and tax filing, and it takes care of the poor by effectively exempting them from taxes up to the poverty level.
So, if you don’t want to pay taxes, just don’t but new stuff. Tax only would apply to services and new product purchases.
Can you imagine how much wealth could be built if you didn’t have payroll taxes and April 15th?
Troll’s Brother: What would all the cpa’s do?
Free Troll: Do what CPAs are supposed to. Help companies manage money, not pay taxes.
Troll’s Brother: ahh. Do you ever have the opinion that things have to get bad before they can get better?
Free Troll: That’s because people generally are so caught up in trying to do things for themselves in the moment, they don’t have time to spend thinking about who is trying to take their freedom away.

So, why do I support the Fair Tax? Simply because it is so simple, it brings sanity and equity back to American taxation, and because the current tax system is one of ridiculous complexity and corruption. According to the Tax Foundation, Americans are estimated to have spent $265 billion in 2005 just to comply with paying their taxes. Imagine what Americans could do if that money were spent on productive activities.

This is just a very brief overview of the Fair Tax. For more information see their website at www.freetax.org. And thank you to my brother for his permission to publish our little chat. You can read his blog at www.minorsoft.com.

232 years ago a simple pamphlet was published in the fledgling United States. It’s title, Common Sense. It’s author, Anonymous. As I write almost two and a half centuries later, I feel it my turn to put pen to paper, as it were, and share a few of my feelings concerning “common sense” in America. Within these pages I hope to identify Common Sense, where it has gone, and what we can do to get it back.

What is the one thing that most Americans concern themselves with at this point in our history, above all others? Is it global warming? The war in Iraq and Afghanistan? The high price of gasoline? The natural disasters in Asia, the fires raging in California, the storms and tornadoes of the Midwest, or hurricanes of the Gulf Coast that tug at our tender mercies with images of dying and the dead? Or perhaps it is something quite simple, yet very, very close to home.

I am of the opinion it is the latter. To be precise, it is the personal welfare of ourselves as individuals and the welfare of those to whom we hold the closest of bonds, our family and friends. The one thing we all concern ourselves with each and every day is this: how am I going to survive, and if I can sufficiently take care of survival, how can I then go on to thrive? It is this same concern that has been in the thoughts of man and woman alike for thousands of years.

Freedom is the keystone of all progress, whether it be the progress of the individual (who in absolute practical terms is the only true thing of value in this universe) and the progress of the society as a whole. It is freedom that leads one to pursue the greatest self that is within, and it is only when this, the greatest self is found that society at large may benefit. And it has been and continues to be to a certain extent, this great American Experiment that has led so many millions of people at home and abroad to revel in the pure satisfaction of that personal achievement that brings hope to self, and hope to fellow humanity.

In all respects, it is freedom that concerns Americans most. It is my freedom, as an individual, that concerns me. Am I free today to a greater degree to pursue my dreams? Am I free today to a greater degree to assist my neighbor in his pursuit of personal freedom? The genius of this, our American capitalist system is the recognition by our founders of that most compelling of philosophies that has led to the most spectacular acquisition of freedom and wealth this planet has ever seen. The philosophy is that of the “invisible hand”. The philosophy is this: that I, the divine Self, can work for my own self interest in the best possible way only so far as I am able to please my neighbor, to serve my neighbor. By providing a service, a product, to my neighbor, I am providing service to myself.

In 1776 was published another work of great importance to the American Experiment: “An Inquiry Into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations”. In the book a Scotsman, the great Adam Smith, set forth this notion of the invisible hand: that an individual pursuing his own self-interest (and in todays terms his or her self-interest) is led to improve not only his own interest and lot, but those of his neighbor as well. It is freedom that makes this possible. It is freedom that brings this about. It is freedom that we, as Americans, most concern ourselves with. And it is freedom that this, our broken government, must be repaired to preserve.

And so we have come, in 232 years, from the common sense of our founders to the dismal despair of a lost child. Where has my freedom gone? I live in America, the greatest of countries, the most admired of all nations in spite of her imperfections, yet I do not feel that I am free. I feel that I am living in a slough of deep, despondent mud, trudging to work day after day for the advancement of someone else’s wealth. Day after day we hear the cries of blame: the greed of the oil companies, the stupidity of our President, the worthlessness of our Congress. And yet the blame is to be found in only one place: ourselves.

It is my fault that America is what America is. It is my fault that America is paying now four dollars for gasoline, five dollars next month, six, seven or more next year. It is my fault that there is not enough corn to eat, that poor nations still groan with hunger. It is my fault that our President has an approval rating of 30 percent, that the approval ratings of the grand Congress of these United States has plummeted to 15 percent.

It is my fault, for the founders of this great nation put it within my grasp to build the life I want. This country is no longer the one I believed I was living in as a child. It is no longer the one my father went to war for in Vietnam, the one my grand-uncle died for at Perl Harbor, or the one our great-great grandfathers fought to preserve on the battlefields of the great war between the states. It is all my fault, for I have not stood and declared what I know to my fellow countrymen and countrywomen.

And this is what I know: America is still the greatest hope for all humankind. America is still the shining city that Reagan saw. America is still the desire for millions of our fellows of foreign birth, striving to reach this glorious place, striving to touch the face of Lady Liberty and hear her gentle words: “Come, my tired, poor and yearning, come and rest in the fellowship of our glorious, shining city!” America, with all her shortcomings, with all her foibles and faults, is still the great love of my heart. She still beckons with open arms for all desiring freedom to come.

The stewardship has been passed. The legacy of our fathers is upon us. It is our turn to make of this great nation the hopeful light it has been ordained to be. Let us put aside our hatred, our anger, our contempt, our enmity. Let us come together as Americans, as the great citizens of this great land, and let us repair the cracks, let us mend the holes, let us destroy the vices that have eaten at the foundation of this, our fair and glorious city.

Together we will restore our trust. Together we can repair our land. Together we may bring the great governing hand of Common Sense again into our midst. This is my hope. This is my dream. And this is the dream we all share, as Americans. Together, let us uphold the arms of Liberty, that she may evermore continue to beckon for those who need her most.

He was the proprietor of a generous yet modest parcel of land which spanned the river, over which he had constructed an elegant stone bridge, of the type one might see in a story of lands far away, with knights on white horses tramping across to save their maiden fair.

His purpose in constructing the bridge was that he might carry wheat he grew more easily from his western parcel eastward over the stream and into a small barn which he had also built himself. He then would sell the wheat to a local miller, thus creating for himself a life of simple abundance and modest comforts.

His quaint little home was situated to take full advantage of the sound of the gurgling water, and was so near the intersection of the river and the bridge that the people of the land knew him as “the troll under the bridge”.

He had spent many years constructing his little hamlet, and was quite pleased with the work he had accomplished. His days were filled with the satisfaction of honest labor, and his evenings were filled with the simple joys associated with a day’s work well done.

During the summer days, when the gentle breeze would carry refreshing cool air from the grand mountains which fed the stream, Standforth would sit on his veranda overlooking the water and smoke his pipe. Sallyforth would share the evening with him as their dog lazed at the top of the steps, which led in a circular pattern down to the water’s edge.

The winter months were spent in similar fashion, Standforth and Sallyforth living comfortably and warm, enjoying the heat from the grand stone fireplace which filled the entire northern wall of the small cottage while the entire country was adorned in a deep coat of white snow.

He had designed the fireplace wall in such an ingenious manner that the stones just nearest the fire itself were hot to the touch, with the heat dissipating wonderfully throughout the whole of the stones, giving radiant warmth to the entire house. Many were the days when the aromas of fine breads would permeate the air, Sallyforth being excellent at baking finely ground wheat into the most delicious of creations in the stone oven which was built into the fireplace wall.

The couple was, unfortunately, without children. There was no reason for this other than children had simply not come to them, though Standforth and his wife had wanted them which much eagerness. And yet, the pair lived happily from year to year, working the land which had blessed them so abundantly and drawing water and fishes from the life-giving waters of the river.

And yet, there often are times in the lives of simple people when difficulties arise. Not difficulties due to the elements or the hardships of working for one’s sustenance, but an ominous, evil difficulty which arises within the hearts of others. And the clutches of these difficulties did not bypass the simple troll and his wife.

In the late morning hours of a fine spring day Standforth and his wife were working their field of wheat, preparing the earth for the planting of a new crop of their fine wheat. As they worked, their dog began to growl, her ears lay low on her head and her tail tucked sheepishly between her legs as she was not a dog known for her bravery. Standforth looked over his field toward the bridge where the dog had fastened her gaze.

Coming confidently and in a prancing manner over the stones of the bridge was a small goat. The goat seemed to pay little attention to the sign Standforth had posted which labeled the property as private. To the couple’s great astonishment, the little goat proceeded directly through the portion of the field which had been seeded the previous day, tramping and tripping and scattering seeds in all directions.

He continued on his path, ignoring the attempts by the couple to gain his attention, a slight smirk gracing his pudgy face, and proceeded directly through the field and into a meadow beyond. When he had reached the meadow he began to chomp voraciously on the fresh tender grasses which grew there.

Standforth and Sallyforth stood speechless, looking at one another and wondering at the sight. Immediately Standforth determined to converse with the goat to discover the reason for the intrusion. He walked the distance to the meadow and greeted the goat in a pleasant manner.

“Hello there, good fellow,” Standforth said in a troll-ish sort of tone. “May I ask the purpose of your excursion this fine day?”

“You may not,” quipped the goat. “My business is my own, and you need not ask of it”.

“I simply wish to inquire as to the reason for your trespass upon my property,” Standforth returned, a bit dismayed at the abruptness of the little goat. “My wife and I have worked quite diligently to seed that portion of ground over which you have tramped, and we are somewhat alarmed that our efforts have been trampled.”

“Well,” the goat retorted, a look of contempt in his eyes, “you can simply replant, can you not? The path I trod is not large, and will not affect your harvest, to be sure.”

At this the goat turned his back to Standforth and continued his munching in the grass.

“Now see here, my good man, that is not quite right,” Standforth’s voice was raised a notch so as to be sure the goat was listening. “I and my good wife own this field you have tramped, and we do not care to see our labors destroyed. I ask that you please do not in the future travel over my bridge and through my field. You may travel to this meadow just as well over the public bridge to the west of the village, and need not disturb my property.”

The goat looked up from his lunch, eying Standforth with derision. “The public bridge is too far for me to walk, and I do not care to do so. Your bridge is much more convenient, and I think I shall continue to use it, now that I have discovered its convenient location. And if you care to challenge me in the matter, my brother will be coming shortly, and he is much bigger than I. And there he is now, just coming to your bridge.”

The little goat bleated out the words with emphasis, wanting to make sure that Standforth, who was indeed far larger than the goat, was sure to understand.

“Well,” replied Standforth, now fully dismayed, “I should indeed like to speak with your brother. Perhaps he is a bit more reasonable than you.”

With this Standforth hurried to the bridge, meeting the bigger goat as he stepped from the bridge to the western portion of the property.

“Hallo there!” Standforth said, measuring the size of the goat before him, “are you come to join your fellow in the meadow beyond?”

The larger goat was twice the size of his younger brother, yet still half as big as Standforth himself. He was distinguished from his smaller brother only by his size, a small beard that hung in a matted ball from his chin, and a slightly pungent odor that hung about him.

“I am,” the goat retorted in a huffing, coarse voice. “I am indeed, and I think that this bridge is a fine route to it”.

“Now I wish to inform you, good sir, this bridge and the property over which you have passed from the gate eastward are my property, and I do not care to have strangers using it for a public access.” Standforth spoke with a light tone, hoping the newest goat would be reasonable in his conversation.

“Is that a fact?” queried the goat, his head cocked to one side, a look of surprise on his face. “Well, I should think this is a much more reasonable route to take. It is much more convenient to town, and I’m much pleased to know of its existence. Surely you will not mind that my brother and I use it to travel to the meadow.”

“I do not mind this once, but I will appreciate in the future that you and your brother use the public route. I am working the land here and cannot have the public tramping my wheat field.”

“If you say so,” the goat replied. “But you will need to take the matter up with my brother. He is coming soon also, and he is much bigger than I. In fact, he is on the council of the village elders. Surely he will be able to reason more with you. But now I must be on my way. I am quite in the mood for the fresh grasses in the meadow.”

The goat had given his final reply with an increased look of contempt which made Standforth uneasy. To Standforth’s great dismay, the goat turned and tramped directly through the portion of wheat planted the day before, just as his brother before, scattering seeds as he tramped.

The good troll returned to his wife who had been watching from her work. “What have you discovered of our guests?” she asked, a look of concern on her face.

“I do not know what to make of them,” Standforth responded. “They both seem to have no concern that our labor is destroyed by their trespass. And they both have deferred responsibility for their acts to their larger brother, who they say is a member of the village council and is coming shortly. I am eager to speak to him and have this violation redressed, for surely that is the purpose of the council, to provide protection from all manner of trespass.”

“Yes, indeed,” Sallyforth added. “It will be good for you to speak with him.”

The couple returned to their work, tilling the soil and planting the wheat which would bring another year of comfort and nourishment to them. They worked through the morning, pausing for lunch at their home.

Sallyforth prepared a simple meal of toadstool and trout sandwiches, lovingly slicing the bread which the couple had produced from their labors, laying trout fillets over the slices, sprinkling it with fresh toadstool stems from the little patch under the bridge, and finishing it with sweet cream-of-salamander dressing and ground black pepper from her herb garden. These she placed on a serving tray of intricate silver work. The tray had been acquired in an exchange between Standforth and the local blacksmith, with the blacksmith receiving five bushels of wheat in return. It was decorated around the edges with fine tracings of vines and grapes and was symbolic of the abundance which the couple enjoyed.

She carried the tray to a small wooden table which Standforth had manufactured with his own hands and which had been placed on the veranda. She attended it with two large wooden mugs of gooseberry juice and two finely woven handkerchiefs of exquisite needlework, of course made by Sallyforth herself. The handkerchiefs were brilliantly colored with fine threads woven into patterns indicative of the landscape which surrounded the small hamlet.

Standforth was already sitting in one of the hand-hewn chairs made of hard maple wood he had harvested from his property when Sallyforth placed the tray on the table. He thanked her kindly, and his gaze stayed a few moments longer on her gentle face, watching as she seated herself opposite in the second maple chair, his thoughts reminding him of the many joyous years they had spent together, working, laughing, and crying through the times they had shared.

After seating herself Sallyforth lovingly accepted as her husband took her hands in his and, as was their tradition, they bowed their heads in thanks for the meal and the plenty which were theirs. Upon completion of the giving of thanks the couple always looked each other in the eye, and repeated a phrase they had practiced since their wedding night many years before: “I love you, wife.” “I love you, husband.”

They sat eating the delicious homemade meal, talking of their plans for a new root cellar to hold the many potatoes they would have at season end, and which would help sustain them through the long winter ahead. They spoke of the good fortune with which they had been blessed, of the rains which had given their wheat an excellent start, and of the strange goats which had so alarmingly trampled their work.

“I’m sure the third brother will agree with our position,” Standforth said as he wiped some salamander dressing from his lips. “As a member of the council he has sworn an oath to support the freedoms of the citizens, and what more sacred freedom do we possess than the right and control of property?”

“To be sure,” Sallyforth responded with a subtle hint of doubt in her voice. “I just hope he does not place his family interests above those of the community.”

The pair was just finishing the meal when Standforth noticed a small cloud of dust to the east of the property. Presently he saw two large rams’ horns bobbing rhythmically along the horizon of the small hill which bordered his land.

“Here comes the eldest brother now,” he informed his wife, coming to his feet. “I will go speak to him and have this issue resolved shortly.”

The large troll stepped off the veranda onto the hand laid stone path which led to the cobblestone road and over the bridge. He met the goat midway, and the two paused, sizing each other up.

“Lo, there, friend,” Standforth greeted him in a warm tone. “I would like to speak with you a moment concerning your younger brothers and my property here.”

The goat stood toe to toe with the troll, each as tall as the other, but the goat having an unnaturally large stature for a goat, and thus the bulk of his mass extended out behind him. He was therefore slightly larger than Standforth, and carried himself as if he knew himself to be.

“I am a busy person,” The goat replied, a jovial tone in his voice, “but I can spare a few moments for a constituent.”

The goat smiled a broad, political smile, as if campaigning were a part of his character and he could not resist the chance to engage a potential voter.

“It seems your two brothers have taken upon themselves to trespass unwanted upon my property. They are yonder in the western field filling themselves on the fresh grass. I do not begrudge them the opportunity, but they have trampled my wheat field, and have done so in a most disrespectful manner. I spoke with both, and I was glad to hear you would be coming. I would like you to speak with them and let them know this path is not available for commuting to the meadow.”

The big billy goat sat back on his haunches, raising an eyebrow and looking at Standforth, the large smile still painted on his long face. “I suppose I could speak to them,” the goat smiled, “but I do not know what the fuss is about. This path is an excellent way from the village, and I myself find it quite more accessible than the public route. I’m sure once the council has final approval of its appropriation you will agree to the benefits for the public in general, and not just for yourself alone.”

Standforth listened in amazement, a look of dumbfounded disbelief growing quickly on his broad, troll face as he took a few incredulous steps backward.

“The public committee on public recreation has been analyzing this bridge of yours and has come to a consensus. They have decided to acquire your bridge for the public use to better assist the community in accessing the many recreational benefits of the meadow. The community will be most grateful for your contribution.”

Standforth’s look of disbelief turned to a look of mild rage as he stood fuming on the bridge, his naturally green face turning a deep shade of beetroot red, as trolls faces often do when upset. “You can’t do that!” he declared in a barely controlled rage, “I’ve spent my whole life building this bridge, this home, this farm,” he turned and gestured to the landscape around them, “and I’ve always been free to do so. It is a violation of every principle in the community’s founding charter! I will fight this, don’t you think I won’t! I am a free troll!”

The goat’s smile didn’t change, but the look of political friendliness in his eyes had changed to a fire of political superiority. “You can try,” the goat huffed nonchalantly, “but you and I both know you don’t have the resources to challenge the council. You can’t afford to hire a representative from the judicial committees.”

Sallyforth, upon noticing the steam rising from her husbands ears as it often does when trolls are angry, had just come to the bridge when Standforth rushed forward to argue more heatedly with the big goat. In a flash the massive animal leaped to his feet, lowered his big ram’s horns, and lunged at the troll, tossing him expertly over the stone wall of the bridge and into the icy waters below.

“No!” screamed Sallyforth, rushing to the edge of the bridge to see her husband floating swiftly down the muddy waters of the river which had been swollen by the melting snows of the mountains. And as she bent over the edge, she felt a sharp blow to her back-end which sent her tumbling headlong into the swirling water below and swept helplessly away with her husband.

And they never were seen by the goats again.

The end…?