Tuesday, March 16, 2010

A Response to the Director

I've got the congressional apportionment blues. I got my census packet in the mail today. It came with a message. This is my response.

A message from the Director, U.S. Census Bureau...

Hello Director! Nice to talk with you again. Oh and don't bother giving me your name, I've already got one.

This is your official 2010 Census form.

Darn tootin'!

We need your help to count everyone in the United States by providing basic information about all the people living in this house or apartment.

I'm not talking, g-man.

Please complete and mail back the enclosed census form today.

Woah there tough guy. Aren't obnoxious fonts from nameless writers limited to the internet? I better send this thing in before I get a follow up letter in all caps.

Your answers are important.

Flattery will get you everywhere.

Census results are used to decide the number of representatives each state has in the U.S. Congress.

As a resident of Washington D.C., how many census forms can I fill out to get a representative in congress? I heard you guys are over-budget already, but I can go down the street to a FedEx Office and take care of making copies for you. Eh?

The amount of government money your neighborhood receives also depends on these answers.

There are 980 people living in my household. A cashier's check would work best, they clear on my bank account faster.

That money is used for services for children and the elderly, roads, and many other local needs.

Meh. A congressperson would be fine, thanks.

Your answers are confidential.

Somehow I feel like the sucker at the table.

This means the Census Bureau cannot give out information that identifies you or your household.

That's good to know, I'll be sure to tell Valerie Plame that her identity is safe with the government.

Your answers will only be used for statistical purposes, and no other purpose.

But you're forgetting the most important purpose, and that is protecting my bread. By refusing to take part in the census, under Title 13 Section 221 of the United States Code, I will have to pay a fine of no more than $100. So I'm either participating in a sham, or I'm funding it. Alright. You've twisted my arm. I'll dance.

The back of this letter contains more information about protecting your data.

You're welcome. I look forward to another slap in my unrepresented face in 10 years.


Matt Lindeboom said...

I've always been curious about the surprisingly sarcastic motto on D.C. license plates, "Taxation without Representation."

Jason Heat said...

i enjoyed this a lot