I spent several years of my life, against my will, attending government school in Georgia and then Colorado. Despite what the government was espousing in those schools, I ended up adopting the ideals of liberty.
After taking a political science class in community college, my belief in liberty deepened, in defiance of what was taught. Continuing to witness government violence and coercion did not endear me to the psychotic and bloodthirsty gang referred to as the “state.”
Finding the Free State Project
I started searching for a place where the values and principles of liberty, self-determination, and non-violence are upheld by more than a handful of people separated by hundreds of miles. This led me to discovering the Free State Project.
Immediately I wanted to move to New Hampshire, even with the many warnings of frigid winters from statists. I wasn’t deterred by the idea of living in a colder climate in exchange for less slavery. More than that though, I wanted to move to New Hampshire because I didn’t want to sit idly by, watching people struggle for the values I believe in. I ended up leaving the state-approved classes teaching about the state, packed my newly purchased Jeep Cherokee with everything I owned, and was ready to depart.
An Unexpected Detour to the Judge
Unfortunately, I had been caught a few months prior doing something “despicable:” driving my own vehicle without getting permission from the local gang, on a road they built by means of theft, on land they had brutally usurped. They called it driving with an expired registration.
On the day I planned to leave, I remembered the state had demanded that I go to their aptly named “justice center” the day before, to atone for my dreadful sin before the divine magistrate. I called them and found out that there was a warrant for my arrest, but I could appear early that morning and “resolve” the issue. In order to remove the warrant, I proceeded to speed quite unsafely to the chambers of the all-knowing judges to avoid being hunted down by their enforcers.
It turns out they misspelled my name on the “ticket” and so to avoid having to change the name, a complicated process I’m told, they decided to dismiss the case against me (they call this upholding the rule of law), though not without me being forced to hand over a tithe to the overlords as compensation for their undoubtedly just services.
Despite New Hampshire being next to Massachusetts and near New York, it feels a world apart from them, which is reflected in the nearly non-existent gun and knife laws, as well as the lack of income tax and sales tax, among other things. However, it is most importantly reflected in the individuals that endeavor to end the violence and slavery of the government. If there’s a place where we can achieve liberty in our lifetime, it feels like New Hampshire.