Voice of the People

"You have the pulse of the people," the General said to me from the vantage of his private box in a near empty Stadium of Blades. "Where do they stand?"

Where do they stand, indeed? I looked out over the vacant sands of combat, the neatly raked rows concealing so much blood and sinew, soaking up the sweat and exertion of those that do battle within them. I reminded myself that 'the people' and 'the mob' are two very different things. Two very different mentalities make up each group. How tenuous the distinction between the two groups can be, however. I spoke to him of the opportunism and propaganda that fueled the mob. I believe in dissention. I believe in questioning authority. I am not friend of anarchy, however, save as a last resort.

No reason was given for the recent tax increases. A mandate was issued and the people were expected to bow to it. Little wonder that it caused unrest and discontent. Still less wonder that the opportunists and authors of propaganda sprung up from their quiet corners to stir the pot of rebellion. I have divided my time between meeting with angered citizens, trying to reassure them that everything possible is being done on their behalf, and scouring the libraries at the Cylinder of Knowledge for precedent and established policy regarding taxation. I found nothing that provides for the High Council's right to apply such a levy. It is my right and duty as Magistrate of the People to veto such specious legislation and I have done so by official order, suspending the tax under the authority of my elected office.

Standing before the Founder, upon the ledge of the fountain erected in his likeness, I spoke to a mixed crowd in the Great Square last evening. Copies of the order had just been posted, informing the citizens of the suspension of the tax. Their reaction was, as expected, overwhelmingly positive, but not entirely so. I am not naive. I did not think that this order would be pushed through without some resistance from the elite of Ar. The Administration is inherently bureaucratic, but it is also inherently adversarial, a system of checks and balances. The People have a voice in the chambers of the High Council. I am that voice.

Graffiti in the Trevelyan

The General's Kaissa

I saw the General's notice this morning on the way to the Cylinder of Justice. He spoke of it to me last evening at the public tables set up by the woman of the Bakers, Tia. It is a magnanimous gesture, one he offered to me personally before posting it for public consideration. I cannot image even his considerable wealth can withstand the demand it will create for very long. The resident population is close to three million, at my best estimate. Of course, much of the private property in the city is owned by men of wealth who would have no justification to petition for a place on the General's dole, and moreover, would probably have cause to fear placing themselves in his debt. No doubt he has his accountants and personal bankers advising him on this matter. These are just the far-too presumptuous - and private - estimations of a Poet, one who learned accountancy for the purpose of keeping track of a stable of whores. If his finances can weather the inevitable storm, I wish him well. His auctoritas in the city of Ar should increase at least commensurately with the success of this endeavor. He is already feared, justifiably so, by those with a tenuous grasp of power in the City. Should he sway the favor of the People, he will be truly formidable.

I will continue to work at the adminisrative end of things, leaving the proclamations and speeches to those better suited to it. I hope to get the tax lowered or, better yet, repealed completely. It is my thought that the better than quarter million non-residents enjoying the hospitality of the city should be considered a source of potential revenue, rather than demand the citizens of our poorest districts give more than they can feasibly manage. If the propaganda is true, however, these initiatives of mine are certain to fall upon deaf ears. In the meantime, I will continue to encourage the generosity of the Lady Tia. A public table at the end of each Passage Hand cannot begin to ease the debts of our poorer citizens and that is not the intent. Nor should it be seen as charity, certainly not pity. I hope it is seen as an extension of goodwill, of brotherhood.

"There is no tax on ass."

"There is no tax on ass," I told the girl, Portia, when she asked if she should be requesting three percent atop the three copper tarsks it costs for an ahn of her use.

That is not entirely true. The three percent tax is on property and on services. Prostituting slave girls falls squarely within the service industry. I suppose I could quibble and point out the fact that the girls are not providing a service, but in fact are saleable goods. They are, after all, 'owned' by the ahn. I see no point in arguing the finer points of the new levy, however. The cost of the girls will remain an even three copper per ahn (four for the blonde) and I will pay the tax from there. It is a simple calculation to derive the actual, pre-tax cost:

Actual Pre-Tax Cost = (3 copper tarsks)/(1.03) = 2.9126 C.T.

It is not a very tidy numer, but one verifies by multiplying 2.9126 by 1.03, producing an even 3 C.T. I can't very well have my whores asking for 2.9126 C.T. each time they are raped, but it is not too difficult to calculate the tax owed over the total of, say, a month's worth of earnings.

The real issue is the fairness of the levy. I've spoken to a number of people this past hand since the tax became effective. What is inescapable is this - if the tax is applied universally, across all castes and classes, it is not inherently illegal. The truth is, if the city wished to tax only one group of citizens or one particular district more heavily than others, I am not sure that is even illegal. Unfair, certainly, but not illegal. As a Magistrate of the People, however, I am duty-bound to speak on the behalf of those citizens.

Even so, it may be too late. I have yet to discover the identity of this 'Casca' that the People are rallying behind, but his men are in the street spreading the propaganda that the tax is simply to fund the vacations and villas of the current administration, many of which seem to be conveniently absent. I can sue for patience from one, two, even twenty, but I cannot stop the sentiment from growing. If there is corruption, I would not want to curb the civil unrest. I always come back to the mantra of 'fact and appearance.' What is true? What seems to be true? For example, it seems to be true that the properties of lower castes are being unfairly levied against. Whether that is, in fact, the case remains to be seen. And what of myself? It is an incontrovertible fact that I am a man of the People. I have not been corrupted. What I have gained, I have done so through hard and honest work. Of course, it may appear otherwise. I am a mere Poet, but I own two domiciles in the city of Ar. With respect to Samsara, tax is not an issue. As an Artisan house, it enjoys a substantial patronage. The Boarding House in the Anbar is subject to the property tax increase, of course. And if I am to absorb the tax of the service it provides, rather than pushing it onto my customers, I pay again. All that aside, I am an elected official of Ar. I am of a low and traditionally poor caste, but I own two domiciles within the city. I have other investments as well, having learned that the diversification is the key to the continued growth of wealth. I realize, all too well, what I am in fact and what I am in appearance.

I will work to find out, firstly, if the tax is applied universally across all castes and classes. Whether or not that is the case, I will then work to have the increase removed from those of the castes beneath the High Five. I have a plan.

Deus Ex Machina

It starts in the meaner warrens of the lower districts. It might be a single piece of graffito in the Trevelyan that opens the eyes of one person on one particular day. Fires and collapses amongst the insulae of the Street of Brands are common, but any one of those events might be the incendiary event to arouse strife & sedition. Most often the malaise starts in the Anbar and spreads outward, gaining momentum from alley to alley, on unnamed corners, and in the low light and unique stench of paga dens until the whispers can no longer be stilled. I was witness to the first raised voices on Demetrios Street last night. More than a dozen but less than a hundred, they had the look of men that had tired themselves of argument and infighting. They had the sound of men with the heart and energy to vent, but they lacked direction, focus. They shared my sentiment, though I never voiced it aloud. It was, too, their autumn of discontent manifesting itself.

Though they have no direction, only the aforementioned discontent, that will change as the mob grows. Blood will spill. Factions will likely develop. Eventually, one carnivore will rise. The unruly and restless will become the firm, staunch and devoted. Given one inspiring act, they will unite. They will follow. It is a necessary, if unfortunate, part of our government. When the checks and balances go unchecked and unbalanced, we must throw the ledger into the fire.

Flickering Tongues

I know she is guilty. At the very least, she is complicit. I will not, however, continue to chase her. I am an elected official; a magistrate of the people. I, however, hold no real imperium. What power I do have, I have exercised. I have investigated the facts, questioned the witnesses and interviewed the experts. As she is only a manumitted woman, hearsay and speculation would be more than enough to keep her bound and on her knees, but I do not choose to mete out justice in that manner.
It is my hope that after the informal hearing held in the Great Square, the woman Noemi will understand she is closely scrutinized by more than a low-level magistrate. A public proceeding will all but guarantee the gossip. If she is able to dupe people into her repellent little game, it will be difficult for people to say they weren't forewarned. Did they not see her on her knees, answering charges? While it is simple enough to say that she was acquitted, the truth of the matter is she has been released into the people's recognizance. I cannot imagine the thinking of the fool that manumitted the bred girl Imp of House Erongi, but it is my sincere hope she finds her true master. She is overdue a beating.
Indirectly related to the informal hearing, I was paid a visit last evening by Miss Vinquient, a fellow proprietor of the Anbar. She owes me a favor. She spoke of a resistance, civil unrest in the streets. She suggested I might be a target, something to be made an example of. The Resistance is not unknown to me. I am a firm believer in dissent, in questioning authority and, above all, accountability. I am not amongst their numbers, however, in any official capacity. In the days of the Brigade, there were those that carried things too far. Undue crime was committed in the name of revolution, the malcontent element using civil unrest as an excuse for violence against their neighbors.
I am not naive. Some may suspect my motives in accepting the position of elected official. Some may even deride me for my modest ascension, due the sweat from a stable of whores and the notoreity gained from the stage of noble Tallux. At the risk of sounding sanctimonious, I am the same Poet from Aulus Street that I always was. The benefit of hindsight is the only real change. When the mulatto child of the oft-missed Kreeandra asked where my allegiances lie, it was difficult not take offense.
"With the People," I told her.