Тег: Taxes

The “Rich Pauper” Strategy: How to Cheat the State and Preserve Capital

Imagine two guys. The first drives a shiny Ferrari, wears a Brioni suit, and posts photos of oysters on Instagram. He has a mountain of debt, insomnia, and breaks into a cold sweat every time a letter from the tax office arrives. The second takes the subway in an inconspicuous logo-less hoodie, eats shawarma on the corner, and sighs during a conversation with a neighbor about how utilities have gone up again. But in his head is a seed phrase for a wallet containing hundreds of bitcoins. Which one of them is truly free? For any self-respecting agorist, the answer is obvious.

We are living in an era where the state has turned into a giant Tyrannosaurus Rex. And as we remember from “Jurassic Park,” a T-Rex’s vision is based on movement. In our reality, it is based on showing off. If you want to live freely, build your capital, and avoid attracting the attention of “comrade major,” the tax inspectorate, or simply criminal elements, you need to master the greatest art of the 21st century: being a “poor” rich person.

First and foremost, you should rent everything rather than owning it. Do you know what buying a luxury home or car in your own name is? It’s voluntarily pinning a huge target to your back that says: “I’m here! Milk me!”. It is the ideal asset for confiscation, seizure, or exorbitant taxes. Rent your housing and transport. Ideally, not even in your own name, but through trusted representatives, cooperatives, or anonymous companies, if the scale allows. You can live in a penthouse and drive a Bentley, but on paper, you are just a passerby.

It is also important to give up luxury: Rolexes, Birkin bags, Gucci belts—these are taxes on insecurity. In agorism, your clothing is camouflage. Dress neatly, but in a way that makes you impossible to remember. Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerberg didn’t popularize basic t-shirts for no reason. When you have no labels, people (and officials) cannot “appraise” you. You blend into the crowd.

Of course, you must not talk about your assets! Friends will start asking for loans (and get offended if you refuse). Acquaintances might accidentally blurt out about your wealth in a bar where the wrong person is sitting. Money loves silence, and crypto loves graveyard silence. To everyone, you should be that guy who “does something on the internet, seems to have enough for food.”

It would be a good idea to learn how to professionally play poor. In our society, successful people are envied, while the poor are pitied and left alone. Complain about inflation, sigh when paying a bill at a cafe, always ask for discounts and promo codes, and haggle at markets. It’s not about the 5 dollars saved—it’s about creating an alibi. When you constantly demonstrate that you are counting pennies, no one will even think that you can be “de-kulakized.”

Another tip: delete Instagram to hell, or at least stop posting photos from business class. Social networks are an open database for tax collectors and scammers. Your profile should look as if you spend your vacation at your grandmother’s cottage, not in the Maldives.

Furthermore, invest your money in things that cannot be taken away. Instead of gold chains, invest in your health (best medicine, quality but simple food, biohacking) and in knowledge. And foreign passports and residency permits (which, of course, you will tell no one about) are the best insurance, invisible to neighbors.

And finally, use cash and P2P. If you pay for everything with a named bank card, your consumption profile is visible as clear as day. Pay for daily expenses in cash wherever possible, as paper money leaves no logs.

In conclusion, it should be said that agorism is not just a philosophy of the free market, but a daily spy game. The stationary bandit wants you to be transparent, predictable, and tied to a place. But you can live in such a way that you will only smile, watching the system try to grab you by the throat, while its fingers grasp emptiness. Because for the system, you simply will not exist; you will be a ghost. A very wealthy, free, and invulnerable ghost.

Voluntarist, Bitarch

Death, Taxes, and Sperry’s Stockholm Syndrome

Recently, an intriguing longread was published on our channel by a user under the nickname “Sperry UNIVAC.” The author, who took a nickname in honor of the computer manufacturing company—which, by the way, lived for decades on fat government contracts and worked almost entirely for the military—suddenly decided to drop some “based” truths. But instead of being based, it turned out to be a typical justification of etatism with a light touch of Marxism. Sperry tries to sell us an idea as old as time: robbery is inevitable, the “social contract” is a blessing, and the private sector is just the same thing from a different angle; basically, you should be grateful that the state is simply shearing you rather than shooting you with machine guns. But let’s dismantle this heap of conceptual substitutions before it starts to smell.

Sperry claims that a corporation taking a portion of the profit “steals” from the worker in exactly the same way that the state takes taxes. “There isn’t much difference between state taxes and corporate levies,” he writes. But if we examine this issue more closely, we will realize that the difference between private companies and a stationary bandit is like the difference between consensual sex and rape.

In the first case (the market), you voluntarily sell your time and skills for an agreed sum. If you don’t like the terms, you stand up and leave. You look for another buyer for your labor or start your own business. In the second case (the state), guys with clubs come to you and say: “Give us 40% of what you’ve earned, and we might build you a road. Or a palace for our leader. Or bomb someone on the other side of the world. And if you don’t give it, we’ll put you in a cage.” Feel the nuance? In Sperry’s world, there is none. For him, the voluntary surrender of part of the profit in exchange for a guaranteed salary and the absence of risk is the same as the forced seizure of funds under threat of violence.

Next, Sperry scares us with horror stories about “wild capitalism,” the United Fruit Company, and the shooting of workers. He forgets (or intentionally omits) that the United Fruit Company and other “banana kings” did not exist in the vacuum of a free market. These were privileged monopolies fed by the state. Who gave them the land? Local governments. Who sent US Marines to suppress riots when local petty tyrants couldn’t handle it? The US government.

This is not a “free market”; this is crony capitalism in its purest form. When a corporation merges with state power, it gains access to “legalized” violence. Libertarians oppose any initiation of violence, whether by a private army or a state guard. But history shows that the most massive killings and the largest Gulags were always organized by states, not by chair manufacturers.

The passage about “corporate taxes” in the form of gyms and cookies deserves separate laughter. He claims that the corporation decides for you where to spend the profit—on your fitness or in your pocket—and that this is the same as state distribution. But a logical error is immediately apparent in such reasoning. This is called “competition for talent.” Conscious people choose an employer not only by the figure on the payroll but also by the conditions. Don’t like the fitness and want cash? Go where they pay more in cash. The market offers options. The state offers no options. You cannot tell the tax office: “Guys, I don’t need your free healthcare and police, give it back in money, I’ll buy services from private providers myself.”

Sperry leads us to the thought: “Everyone will always steal.” This is a philosophy of learned helplessness. “Relax and enjoy yourself while you are being raped with a velvet glove, otherwise they might use a gauntlet.” We, on the other hand, say that violence is not the norm and we propose solutions. Any taxes are robbery. Any regulations are a restriction of the freedom of conscious people. And the fact that the stationary bandit tries to buy our loyalty by throwing us bones from the master’s table in the form of “social welfare” (bought with our own money, but with a wild commission for bureaucrats) does not make him a benefactor.

Voluntarist, Bitarch