Henry and Hilaire Walk into a Bar

A wonderful, homey pub, actually.

They enjoy a few pints each, the best ales and lagers either had ever enjoyed. The owner-brewer, prevented from expanding into a major regional establishment by differential taxes meant to encourage widespread distribution of property, thereby limiting the banality of a landscape marred with repetition, opted instead to focus on improving the quality of his brews.

Looking to expand his operations, he successfully applied for a grant, receiving money extracted from the coffers of the multi-national Schlitweiser, which mass-produces canned “beer” intolerable to all but college students and “ironic” hipsters. His remarkable brews, paired with his prime location, have made him a successful, and affable, provided of moderately priced libations.

Given the popularity of his neighborhood, and consequent increased property values, the owner had contemplated selling his establishment to the highest bidder. After sweeping tax reforms denied property owners the right to accrue additional benefits from the popularity of the locale, and not the mixing of their labor with the property, he changed his mind, opting instead to continue, happily and proudly, to serve suds to the people in his community, with many of whom he’d grown up.

Would this be such a terrible way of life?

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