I Can’t Believe You Stole My Copy of The Anarchist Cookbook

Here we are, two members of a so-called “civilized society,” joined not only as friends but as neighbors, with mutual respect for one another’s natural and civil rights. We live under the standard of this great country’s laws—which at their very heart are anarchic—and I, at least, expect others to do the same.

I guess this was naïve of me because, obviously, you don’t feel the same way.

I can’t believe you stole my copy of The Anarchist Cookbook.

Was it a desperate curiosity toward making mailbox-bombs that spurred you to violate our trust? Or perhaps you simply wanted to learn how to make an Infinity Transmitter, so you could monitor my late night calls to my girlfriend?

You make me sick.

I expressly had the book shipped to my home in order to avoid a mishap of this kind. Do you think those beady-eyed booksellers at Barnes & Noble would be able to resist reporting me to the Department of Homeland Security? They make $7.50 an hour, Joel. They would love the chance to send a venture capitalist like myself to Gitmo.

What you’ve committed was not only a sin against your neighbor, but is also mail fraud, a Class-A felony. But I can’t go to the police as I don’t recognize their authority over me. So just give it back, OK?

You leave me with quite a quandry: How will I perfect my phreaking skills, or make an auto-exhaust flamethrower—things that only a true anarchist like myself would understand—when my copy of the Cookbook is hidden somewhere in your home, protected by fiery booby-traps? Don’t you have any respect for private property, Joel?

I agree with H.L. Mencken when he said, “Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.” But you’ve taken it a step too far. I bought that book. It was mine. Mine, mine, mine.

Did you steal it to make me look like a fool in front of Tina? Or just to toy with my emotions? Or was it to get back at me for shitting in the top part of your toilet at your sister’s high school graduation party?

Whatever the reasons, what you’ve done is really mean.

And, seriously, give me back my book. Even with my Member Card, it still cost me about $35.