How to Gracefully Reject a Census Bureau Agent

Decisions will need to be made soon, by many, as non-participants in the 2010 Census are now being tracked.. and often cornered.. by those friendly federal fact-checkers from the U.S. Census Bureau.

Note-makers.. who invade the privacy of citizens.. name-takers who push forward, vigilantly driven by an unshaken desire to illegally execute assistance for a System which has yet to cease in drawing tighter that new world order noose.

Stalked, spied on, and surprised.. lied to.. and ultimately hemmed in – when those who originally refused to respond to the 2010 Census suddenly become caught -when vast numbers of the negligent find themselves put on the spot – under the weight of that authority, wrapped by the bonds of such unpreparedness – what do you think – would the majority bend?

I hope not.. i hope more would stand than fall.. and for those who choose not to participate in an illegal data collection by a government who already has everyone’s information; and for those who want to say ‘no’, but just don’t think they can – the following is a recount of my personal experience, as one of the many sought evaders romanced by The Man..

The Census Bureau had been courting me, like it had so many others, since before spring of this year.. though a long distance relationship, and though one-sided.. it was laden with love-letters.. one, very long, formal request.. one terse, but well-written, ‘remembering you’ postcard.. and no less than four consecutive, hand-written notes..

Though the correspondence was regal, marked with symbols of power and status.. and though received from the hand of prominence, in all its unchecked authority – as it was, my heart belonged to another.. and despite the unyielding persistence of its perpetual impassioned requests.. i rejected the Census Bureaus’ advances, and remained faithful to my own.

"Ulterior Motives" : By Bean

As summer drew near, that early spring fling which had begun so gently, soon gave way to moments defined by hot and desperate demands.. the pursuit was obsessive.. and then, in an emboldened display of affection, i received a personal visit on behalf of my shunned suitor..

My heart lept as i beheld the arrival.. from my startled position under the mulberry tree i watched as she, in all the authoritative presence of her position, slowly but confidently began to traverse the terrain up the light-dappled driveway..

My mind raced.. “what will i answer?”.. the question repeatedly whirred in my head.. i held the approaching agent steadfastly in view, as she smiled and squinted, the afternoon sun in her eyes..

My vision turned inward.. a freight-train of images had suddenly begun to barrel forward on a track through my mind.. speeding snapshots of events rapidly clicked before me.. images i understood instantly, but on which i could not then maintain a grasp, and could not now describe.

My heart feverishly drummed in synchronicity with the pounding of the train.. she drew nearer.. “what do i do?” resonated in a rhythmic repeat..

And then.. through the heightening din of the deluge of questions, there suddenly rang out one resolute and clear sound..

“Do What is Right.”

The Census Bureau representative was taking her last steps toward me. She saluted me with a ‘hello’.. and then, between glances down at her path, she began to loudly proclaim those words no refusing damsels should ever desire to hear..

AGENT: “My name is [something-or-another]..”
AGENT: “I’m with the Census Bureau..”

The vaporous haze began to dissipate, and all my previous thoughts melted into one consistent command..

“Do What is Right”..

AGENT: “..we sent you letters..”

“Do What is Right”..

AGENT: “..a lot of letters in the mail..”

“Do What is Right”..

“Do What is Right”..

My clarity returned..
And then, there she was..

She was about two feet from me.. i took in her form..

She carried no clipboard.. she wore not sneakers.. and by the appearance of her crisp and dry attire – she certainly had not been beating down the sidewalks around town on that sunny 85-degree day..

AGENT:”You should have received forms in the mail..”

While she loudly and reassuringly reiterated the nature of the “letters” and “mail”.. and something about “stopping by” – i silently contemplated how she must have had to spy on me to find me, home and outside, just at the right moment..

The seconds seemed to stretch on, far beyond the horizon.. and i was still a little taken in thought, about the level to which she must have had to stoop, when suddenly her tone changed.

AGENT: “Did you receive forms in the mail?”

It was apparent she had become frustrated.. “perhaps by my lack of response”..

“Do What is Right”..

Casting a blank, though genuine, look in her direction.. momentarily i caught her gaze.. i noticed she was leaning forward and motioning with her hands..

AGENT:”You should have received a lot of mail about the Census..”

I lowered my head and shook it slightly as calmly and slowly, i responded to her demand..

“Oh.. (pause) .. yeah.. (pause) .. mail.. (long pause) …. “
“i don’t really.. (pause) .. do.. (pause) .. mail….”

Which is true.. but she was all to happy to announce that she could take care of it right then.. she smiled as she informed me..

AGENT: “All I need is your name, your race, and your address..”

The drums pounded out hard from within my adrenalin-soaked system..

“Do What is Right”.. “Do What is Right”..

I looked up into her eyes and briefly searched for signs of sanity.. locating neither shard nor shred.. i opened my mouth to address her proposal..

“No.. (pause).. “, i said, “I’m not required by law to provide that information..”

And the shiznit apparently hit the fiznit.. because immediately following my politely restrained explanation.. came a doubly-loud shriek of misplaced indignation..

AGENT: “WHAT!? YOUR NAME, RACE & ADDRESS!?”

I glanced back up at her.. her eyes appeared enlarged as shrill sounds of self-righteousness gushed from her lips..

And the drums beat out their rhythm..

“Do What is Right”.. “Do What is Right”..

AGENT: “Are you [Name Here]?”
AGENT: “Do you live here?”

The drums drummed louder.. “Do What is Right”..

My sight fixed in a hold on her now-contorted visage..

“I live here.. and I’ve been through the census before.. they came to our door.. they took down how many people lived there.. and then they left.. all I’m required by law to tell you is whether I live here or not..”

The drums were so loud that i momentarily zoned out during her reply.. i could hear her in the distance.. going on about government and laws..

I remember responding amid her continuing complaints..

“I’m not required to provide that information..”

Instantly, an onslaught of rapid-fire sound-bites ensued.. “you have to”.. “required by law”..

I tossed in a mild “Whatever..” followed by a dismissive “I don’t have to tell you..”

The “whatever” perhaps pricked something in her, because her immediate retort was a decidedly disgusted, over-the-top, sarcastic “WHATEVER!” of her own..

I took two steps toward the fence.. her voice now had taken on a nature similar to Charlie Brown’s teacher.. i ran my fingers along the fence wire and wondered if she’d ever put an end to throwing that temper-tantrum she’d ignited..

AGENT: “whawntwhatwhantwhat.. whatwhauntwhanwhant..”

Charlie Brown’s teacher..

She was being ignored.. and that seemed to upset her.. i especially believe this could have been the case because, above the friction and static of her own white noise.. suddenly rose and unfurled the following mantra banner..

AGENT: “YOUR ANSWERS TO THESE QUESTIONS ARE REQUIRED BY LAW!”

I stopped, turned back toward her, and locked on her gaze..

“Do What is Right”.. “Do What is Right”..

“Do What is Right”.. “Do What is Right”..

“If you can produce that in writing – I’ll consider it.. just put it in writing.. and.. mail it to me..”

She appeared confused, and for a moment ceased to speak.. but then..

AGENT: “So you’re not going to tell me your name?”

now, here i’d like to pause, and admit that i found that particular statement by her to be rather funny.. i smiled a little and chuckled as i slowly shook my head..

“No….”

By this time, she seemed utterly flustered.. she began to withdraw.. but as she looked back at me from over her shoulder – in classic and unlawful last-word-addict style – she made a final proclamation as she hurried down the drive..

AGENT: “I’ll just put down that you refused.”.. and then, she was gone.

Census Bureau Logo

The drumming grew more faint.. though the adrenalin was slower to subside.. the romance was over.. but i had done what was Right.

If you are reading this, and know that an answer beyond anything more than “I live here” is wrong.. if you are reading this and asking yourself “what would i do?”.. if you find are in doubt, wondering if, when push comes to shove, you can really stick to your guns..

Saying “No.” to The Man should be carried out in a calm and collected confidence.. and you should know – there is a strength that you cannot muster and there is a calm that you cannot create.. and there is no time like the present to learn who He is..

The same one who gave His life, for the ransom of your soul, is the same one who will give you that strength, and that unwavering resolve.

During these perilous days.. when believers abroad are imprisoned, tortured and killed – for no greater reason than distributing some Bibles – is there any real reason to not “Do What is Right”?

Remember the words of our Savior..

“..And I say unto you my friends, Be not afraid of them that kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do.

But I will forewarn you whom ye shall fear: Fear Him, which after He hath killed hath power to cast into hell; yea, I say unto you, Fear Him.

Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before YHWH?

But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows.

Also I say unto you, Whosoever shall confess Me before men, him shall the Son of Man also confess before the angels of YHWH..”

Luke 12:4-8

“Do What is Right”

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