Property is Theft

“Property is Theft!” So-say the Socialists who expect other people to work hard toward the so-called “Greater Good” that they want for themselves and will kill to achieve.
And this this being the Old Gold Country, where life was cheap and the towns called “Hangtown” were so-too numerous to mention that the US Postal Office demanded it (this one anyhow) be called “Dry-Diggin’s,” instead or as opposed to Mud Diggin’s — and so finally “Placerville” instead, because of the method of placer mining. Whatever. Go enroll in the Colorado School of Mines and figure it out.
Here there were at one time VERY many independent “social equalizers” and “economic levelers” and “share-the-wealth’ers” – among whom we can count the educated and fastidious Black Bart himself (UPDATE: We know Charles E. Bowles could read and write poetry anyhow) – and many-many more other lesser non-famous types who plied the same trade of self-indulgent, semi-equalization, freelance-socialism and general spread-the-wealthism – (UPDATE: robbery) so much that the main local watering-hole was called (and still is) The Hangman’s Tree. Because the tree was there, and: Location, Location, Location. Keep your powder dry.
So lets go snag some land! Steal it as best we can. Yank it from the softly sleeping drunks and shepherds. Find a few acres. Maybe there’s still some gold up in there… It’s another kind of prospecting, and I’m bring my Sig. (UPDATE: or my .44-40 six-gun)

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About NotClauswitz

The semi-sprawling adventures of a culturally hegemonic former flat-lander and anti-idiotarian individualist, fleeing the toxic cultural smug emitted by self-satisfied lotus-eating low-land Tesla-driving floppy-hat wearing lizadroid-Leftbat Califorganic eco-tofuistas ~

6 thoughts on “Property is Theft

  1. I may have mentioned here before that I grew up in the area up through my freshman year in high school (1968). Go through Fiddletown, left across the bridge, then right and up Tyler Road about four miles. I wonder if the old gold rush era jail still stands in the town of Volcano. Story was that first inmates were the two upstanding local citizens who built it. Turns out that doing so was illegal without local approval. As a young lad, I rode horse back in the first Fiddletown Homecoming parade dressed (more or less) as Joaquin Murrietta. The side arm I borrowed for that day was an original SAA Colt Bisley, 38 caliber, 7.5 inch barrel, nickel finish.

  2. My granny had a cabin near Twin Bridges/Horsetail falls on Pyramid Creek. Spent a lot of time there as a kid, Fishing and swim’n with the water snakes in summer. Sledding in winter.

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