There Outta Be A Law: A Short Story

But the law is not a breast that fills itself with milk. Nor are the lacteal veins of the law supplied with milk from a source outside the society. – Frederic Bastiat 

One day a man named Mr. Jim C. Statist walked down State Street in Chicago. He saw a young man spit out tobacco juice. He was disgusted that the man was allowed to do this. Immediately Mr. Statist called his alderman and complained, saying, “There outta be a law!” 

The next day Mr. Statist was walking down Lake Street in Oak Park. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and almost got hit by a cyclist. He immediately complained to his friend who lived there about it, and his friend petitioned to the Mayor, declaring, “There outta be a law!” 

A couple of weeks later, Mr. Statist and his wife were driving down a residential street and saw some kids throwing a baseball around. They got out of the way when the Statist’s car pulled up, however, Mr. And Mrs. Statist were concerned and told their friend they had visited about it. Their friend agreed and called his mayor, exclaiming, “There outta be a law!”

Little did Jim Statist know, his love of laws was restricting the freedom of others. No longer was there any personal responsibility, the state was responsible for everything and everyone. He went out of the way to do what he thought was good, however an abuse of lawmaking power had limited liberty. 

Jim was confronted by several friends. He did not like what they had to say about their opinions. Hey cried, “There outta be a law!”, and ran to the state legislature to restrict speech. Luckily, that was an unconstitutional request. Instead he resorted to shaming those who disagreed with him on the Internet. They, however, did not cry, “There outta be a law!” 


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