The IRS! They're like the Mafia, they can take anything they

In the days of our forefathers, when words carried the weight of wisdom and laughter was a hidden mirror for truth, the jester spoke in jest, yet revealed the heart of man. So it was when Jerry Seinfeld uttered his line: “The IRS! They’re like the Mafia, they can take anything they want!” Though cloaked in humor, these words strike the soul like a bell in a silent hall. For behind the laughter lies an ancient truth — that power, when unchecked, inspires both awe and fear, and that the institutions of men can resemble the empires of old: mighty, unyielding, and indifferent to the cries of the common soul.

The IRS, that guardian of tribute and tax, stands as a symbol of the state’s right to claim a portion of every person’s labor. Yet in Seinfeld’s comparison to the Mafia, there is both irony and lament. The Mafia of old ruled not with laws but with fear; yet even in their tyranny, they demanded “respect.” The IRS, bound by rules, yet often faceless and cold, wields a similar kind of power — the ability to take, to demand obedience, to remind all citizens that nothing they possess is truly their own, but merely borrowed under the watchful eye of the state. Thus the jest becomes prophecy: the machinery of civilization mirrors the shadows it was built to destroy.

Consider the tale of Henry David Thoreau, who in 1846 refused to pay his taxes as an act of protest against slavery and war. For this defiance, he was cast into a prison cell — not by thugs in alleys, but by the lawful hand of his own government. In that dim cell, Thoreau wrote that true freedom lies not in obedience, but in conscience. His resistance was peaceful, yet it echoed louder than gunfire, reminding all who would listen that even the smallest act of defiance can shine a light upon the iron walls of authority. Seinfeld’s laughter is the descendant of that same spirit — a cry wrapped in comedy, a rebellion veiled in mirth.

In the old world, kings demanded tribute. Gold flowed upward from the poor to the powerful, and those who resisted were branded traitors or fools. The modern world changed its robes, but not its nature. The coins are digital, the tribute disguised as “tax,” and the enforcers bear badges, not blades. Yet the ancient imbalance remains. When Seinfeld mocks the IRS as the Mafia, he names not a villain, but a truth of human governance: that power always hungers, and that men must laugh at their masters lest they weep under them. Laughter becomes the sword of the powerless — a sacred act of defiance.

But let none misunderstand — Seinfeld does not counsel rebellion. His jest teaches the art of awareness. To see through illusion is to regain power. To laugh is to loosen the chains. Those who live without humor live as captives of fear; those who can see the absurdity of power begin to reclaim their inner sovereignty. For even as the IRS reaches into every pocket, it cannot seize the spirit that mocks its grip. The wise learn this balance — to give what must be given, but never to surrender their soul’s laughter.

Look, too, at the story of Leona Helmsley, the “Queen of Mean,” who thought herself above the laws of taxation. In her arrogance she declared, “Only the little people pay taxes.” Yet her pride brought her downfall, and she was imprisoned not for her cruelty, but for her defiance of the state’s demand. Her tale mirrors the truth of Seinfeld’s jest: none escape the reach of the power that governs wealth. Whether king or peasant, the hand that collects tribute is ever watchful. Power demands its due — and those who forget this pay dearly.

So what then is the lesson for the sons and daughters of tomorrow? It is this: know the power that governs you, but never worship it. Fulfill your obligations, but guard your spirit. Laugh at the absurdities of the world, for laughter is wisdom’s armor. Remember that authority is not divine — it is a construct, a shadow shaped by human hands. As Seinfeld’s jest reminds us, when institutions grow too mighty, humor becomes holy rebellion.

Therefore, O listener, let your laughter be both sword and shield. Pay your dues, but keep your freedom. Question gently, resist wisely, and smile as you walk among the towers of power. For though they may take from your hand, they can never seize the treasure of your mind — nor silence the sacred voice that dares to laugh in the face of kings.