Politics of Life, Libertarianism and the Pursuit of Happiness

Americans can be a curiously intolerant bunch.

For all our harrumphing about what makes this nation great, we sometimes disdain certain expressions of the fundamentally individualistic rights upon which the nation was founded.

When most people encounter a political candidate who isn’t a Republican or a Democrat, for example, their minds conjure up a dismissive label--”Raving Fringe-oid Kook,” say.

That’s partly because some alternative political movements appeal to picturesque types whose platforms consist of outlawing meat and fish, or stockpiling scrap metal in desert communes or spraying the populations of certain large cities with machine gun fire. So OK, we might want to consider locking up those guys.

On the other hand:

Anyone who at some point has entertained the suspicion that government and politics are controlled by thieves, scoundrels and Neanderthals should understand why a few restless souls embark on quests for something better. It’s like the finale of Orwell’s “Animal Farm”: no matter who you are rooting for, you are in trouble when you can’t tell the men from the pigs.

In that cautionary spirit of tolerance and open-mindedness, the scene shifts to Gloria Avenue in Van Nuys recently, where a visiting presidential candidate stood in a pleasant back yard, doing what presidential candidates do: asking for money and telling jokes designed to get across his message.

“What’s black and brown and looks good on a government bureaucrat?” asked Andre Marrou, one of two Libertarians competing for that party’s nomination.

“Answer: a Doberman pinscher.”

This bit of barbed humor went over well with the assembled audience of about 40 Libertarians. They were mostly men between 30 and 60--lawyers and makers of sex films, beer-drinkers and three-piece suits, suburban anarchists and regular-guys-pushed-too-far.

The event was held in the home of John Vernon, a tall and distinguished-looking caterer known as “The Omelet King” who whipped up omelets for everybody.

Libertarians are the third-largest--and fastest-growing--political party in the United States, with strongholds in California and Alaska. Their philosophy grows from the precept that good government would be the least government possible in a society where unfettered human liberty and market forces would reign triumphant.

Although they are often seen as right-wing, their tenets include an energetic mix of liberal and conservative ideas: open immigration and no foreign aid whatsoever, abolition of welfare and legalization of drugs.

Marrou is a Las Vegas real estate agent and former Alaska state legislator. One press clipping describes him as resembling a “cheerful Lenin.” He said the main difference between the two dominant parties is that Democrats are always looking for new victims and Republicans are always looking for new enemies. Libertarians have already found the only enemy they regard as worth fighting--the state. And they do so with gusto.

“We’re in a jungle of excessive government,” Marrou said. “You’re in a jungle with a machete, and the question is, where do you start swinging? It really doesn’t matter. But we can start by not replacing federal bureaucrats. We can get rid of the income tax and get rid of the IRS. The personal income tax accounts for 31% of federal revenues, so that’s a start.”

Such double-barreled rhetoric is refreshing, whatever else you think of it.

Especially in a dry season when political writers are reduced to features about farmers in Iowa complaining they don’t have any presidential candidates to help them milk the cows the way they did three years ago.

Especially in an era where television and high-priced consultants have prohibited politicians from being mean to each other except on a really, really unsubstantive issue.

Why whine about the social role of a Willie Horton when you can argue about whether to just ax the FBI and NASA?

Marrou maintained a businesslike air most of the time, but occasionally let loose. At one point, he asked his supporters to recommend a good running mate, preferably a woman.

“If you hear of somebody who’s interested, please let me know,” Marrou said.

A questioner asked: “What scandals can we look forward to to get you some free media in the coming campaign?”

Marrou looked stumped. He’s a bachelor now, he said, and no longer a heavy drinker. He currently has a girlfriend in New York.

“Hey, I bet we could do something with that,” he said, brightening.

Then Marrou enumerated the celebrities who he believes could be brought into the fold, and the audience cheered.

“I flew on an airplane the other day next to J.J. Walker, the comedian. You all know who that is, and he’s on our side,” Marrou said. “I have a cousin who knows Willie Nelson. As you know, Willie has had problems with the IRS. Big problems. We need to talk to him.”

If Nelson has some time on his hands he might even want to consider that vice-presidential spot on the ticket. He could immortalize Dan Quayle in a country song.

As the evening drifted to a close, somebody in back offered Marrou a good sound bite courtesy of David Letterman: The etymology of the word politics .

“ Poli means many,” the man said. “And ticks are bloodsuckers.”