Dumping Coca-Cola in Boston Harbor

According to an article in today's Wall Street Journal, Senate leaders are considering new federal taxes on soda, to help pay for an overhaul of the nation's health-care system.

A soda tax?!

I know that in the coming years, we'll see increased regulation and taxes in every area of our lives, but this would be the last straw for me (pun semi-intended).

The tax is being proposed by a group that calls itself "The Center for Science in the Public Interest." I, for one, believe that it would be in the Public Interest to have these people stand in the middle of busy intersections during rush hour.

Supposedly, the tax would only apply to sugary drinks, and not to diet soda, which accounts for 95%+ of my current soda consumption. However, once any soda tax is in place, it will only be a matter of time before they expand it to include diet beverages as well. Now I know how those NRA folks felt when assault rifles were banned. Our freedom is being taxed or taken away, bit by bit.

What's next? Will there be a three-day waiting period before I'll be allowed to purchase a Big Gulp? Will I have to get my soda in another country? I might have to resort to buying a six pack of Azteca Cola in Tijuana from a guy with a glass eye, named Pedro. Or, perhaps I'll find myself in a drab bar in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, sipping a glass of Mellow Mountie, while pretending to be interested in some flannel shirt-wearing lumberjack's tales of forest adventure.

Actually, the most likely scenario is a lot more extreme. If the government passes a soda tax, it is entirely likely that I would completely freak out. I'd form a group, named the Soda Separatists. We'd buy up some houses and land in Montana (hopefully at foreclosure prices), or some other such mostly-desolate place. We would spread rumors that we had gathered an enormous cache of weapons and sugary beverages. We would prepare for the inevitable federal assault by digging a deep, wide trench around our entire compound. We'd fill the trench with popcorn kernels, so that when the feds lost patience with us, and attempted to set fire to our compound, Waco-style ("Sure, we're risking loss of life, but those people have soda in there. Soda!"), they would accomplish nothing more than to provide our group with a year's supply of snacks...

...which we would wash down with all of our soda.

I imagine that we would punctuate our victory by burping triumphantly for all to hear.

Or, as I prefer to put it: letting freedom ring.