I have recently made an unnerving discovery. While perusing the federal tax code last week, I happened upon a particular provision of Section 168(e)(3)(A). It said, in relevant part:
The term ‘3-year property’ includes any race horse which is placed in service before January 1, 2014, and which is placed in service after December 31, 2013, and which is more than 2 years old at the time such horse is placed in service by such purchaser…
Those of you who have managed to stay awake so far are probably wondering why this is significant (and probably shouting obscenities at the screen to express your outrage at being forced to interpret the Internal Revenue Code). Well, let me put it this way: the government decided to provide for an obscure situation that might occur in a single twenty-four hour period five years in the future.
Convinced that I had uncovered the first of a series of Da Vinci Code style clues, I eagerly flipped through the pages of the code in search of further such provisions. Through my research, I discovered vast array of similar rules, most of which I am reasonably certain were more than just part of a long, boredom-induced dream.
I began considering possible explanations as to why the government would engage in such irrational behavior and, as always, I will assume that the first idea that came to mind is correct: an insidious cabal of politicians have, over the years, scattered a series of interrelated provisions throughout the tax code, hidden in plain sight.
On December 31, 2014, the cabal will ride their now fully depreciated race horses across the country, selling sperm, manning fishing boat crews, and engaging in other seemingly random behavior. The combined effect of complying with all of these ostensibly nonsensical rules at once will grant them such outlandishly favorable tax treatment that they will instantly achieve wealth of unprecedented proportions.
But as they sit in their solid gold mansions, smoking fine cigars while they rest atop enormous piles of cash, they’ll long for their days of sinister conspiracies, smoke-filled rooms, covert meetings in darkened parking garages, and stealing fingernail clippers.
To get their conspiratorial fix, they’ll return to the scene, executing scheme after scheme, taking over small countries, covering up outrageous accidents that they carefully orchestrated for the sole purposes of having something to cover up, and falsifying documents that no one was going to read anyway.
Sure, it’ll make them feel better, but at what cost? How many people will die to satisfy the sick addictions of these bureaucratic monsters? Only time will tell, my friends. Only time will tell.