In 1931, the feds finally busted notorious gangster Al Capone.

But, they didn't get him for murder or for racketeering or bootlegging. He was charged and found guilty of tax evasion.

Capone was sentenced to 11 years in prison. At that time, it was the longest tax evasion sentence ever handed down. That's the power of the tax code and the Internal Revenue Service.

In fact, the IRS may well be the most powerful organization inside the United States.

Think about it. They nailed Al Capone, put Wesley Snipes in jail and had a long battle with Willie Nelson over unpaid taxes. The IRS can audit anyone in the country for any reason. Their access is unlimited.

And it goes beyond individuals. They can target companies and charities. The IRS even has the authority to audit churches.

Throughout their history, the IRS' power has been used as an investigative tool by politicians. The recent revelations about the IRS looking into 501(c)4 applications of conservative groups has been happening for a long time.

Writing in the Wall Street Journal, James Bovard points out almost all American presidents since Franklin Roosevelt have used the IRS to attack political opponents.

Roosevelt also dropped the IRS hammer on political rivals such as the populist firebrand Huey Long and radio agitator Father Coughlin, and prominent Republicans such as former Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon.

President John F. Kennedy did it too.

Shortly after capturing the presidency, JFK denounced "the discordant voices of extremism" and derided people who distrust their leaders…Shortly thereafter, JFK signaled at a news conference that he expected the IRS to be vigilant in policing the tax-exempt status of questionable (read: conservative) organizations.

Bovard mentions President Richard Nixon (of course) and President Bill Clinton as also having used the powers of taxation to go after foes, but here's the ultimate point.

The IRS has usually done an excellent job of stifling investigations of its practices. A 1991 survey of 800 IRS executives and managers by the nonprofit Josephson Institute of Ethics revealed that three out of four respondents felt entitled to deceive or lie when testifying before a congressional committee.

Their power is almost unchecked. The IRS has unlimited investigative tools at their disposal.

The FBI does too but they (often times) are subject to Constitutional checks and balances. The IRS operates under no such thing. If they want to go after someone or some organization they will.

Politics is nothing without power. That's what is on display here. So if House Speaker John Boehner wants someone from the IRS to go jail for misusing their power at the IRS, perhaps he should move Congress to start reining it in.

Much of the Internet is abuzz with stories about the Internal Revenue Service abusing their authority.

Several conservative groups, who labeled themselves as "Tea Party" or "Patriot" organizations, were given extra scrutiny during their 501(c)(4) application process.

The 501(c) section of the U.S. tax code defines how non-profit agencies will be taxed or not taxed. Many charities are 501(c)3 organizations. They are completely tax free because and aren't allowed to endorse political parties or causes.

By technical definition a 501(c)(4) is a social welfare organization. They differ from charities because they are allowed to engage in political activity and lobby for causes, as long as it is their secondary purpose. In exchange, 501(c)(4)s are not completely tax exempt. Their political expenditures are taxed. Contributions to 501(c)(4)s are not tax exempt either.

Yes. It's pretty confusing.

In regards to the IRS, much of the media coverage on this scandal has focused on the political ramifications of what they have done by targeting only specific organizations. That's fine. But once the political part is over, more attention should be paid to the IRS.

The bottom line is the IRS is just too powerful and the tax code creates that power.

Several times over the past few years, a few politicians have indicated a willingness to change and simplify the tax code. That willingness always seems to turn to smoke after an election cycle concludes. Currently, there are 73,954 pages in the United States Tax Code. The Bible has 1,281. "War and Peace" checks in at 1,440.

This presents a perfect opportunity to challenge the politicians to take some of the power away from the IRS so they can't continue to play politics with the tax code. In 1913, when the income tax was first implemented the tax code was 400 pages. Even that is too much. A flat tax with no exemptions could reduce to tax code to, as Bruce St. James would say, a three-by-five card. Imagine that. It would take minutes to fill out the yearly tax forms, not hours.

A consumption tax might be even better. That would eliminate the need for the IRS and tax forms all together. After this story, that sounds like the best idea of all.

Hopefully, this opportunity for change isn't dismissed.

I sat down to watch Troy Hayden's interview on Fox 10. Honestly, I'm still not sure why. I must have been caught up in the moment in wanting to hear what Jodi Arias had to say. Now, I regret it.

I regret it because as I sat there watching Arias explain how she favors the death penalty over life in prison, I found myself feeling sympathy for her. Until I remembered what she was on trial for in the first place; killing Travis Alexander. She shot him in the head, stabbed him 27 times and slit his throat. Gruesome.

I have no connection to this case. I have no recollection of Travis Alexander's death in 2008, nor do I remember when Jodi Arias was arrested a month later. I'm happy justice is in the process of being served here. But, this trial should be no different from any other murder trial, you know, the hundreds of other ones we don't watch.

Let's be honest: people didn't watch this case for justice, despite those "justice for Travis" chants. People watched for their own reasons. The hundreds who showed up to the courthouse did so for their own reasons too. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the sexy details. Maybe it was something else. Fine. Those are valid reasons to care. I'd just prefer some honesty about it instead of pretending this is about ‘justice.'

I'll admit I got caught up in all the hype, even as I despised the coverage of the trial. I watched the verdict being read. But, by no means do I pretend I care about justice in this case. I watched simply because I wanted to see Arias' reaction to the verdict.

See, if this trial was truly about justice we would care about every other murder case. We'd want cameras present during those trials. We'd watch the verdicts being read. But, we don't care. This is why Arias won. She got us emotionally invested in this murder case while just about every other one gets ignored. We know her name. Like it or not, she's famous.

I'll leave you with these facts to add a little perspective. In 2010 the CDC says there were 16,259 homicides in the United States. Around 6,000 of them will go unsolved. We are not in the streets demanding justice for those cases. They haven't touched us. There are no cameras present and no sexy details. Our sense of ‘justice' gets skewed when TV cameras show up.

The cameras may have caught every detail of this salacious trial but they've missed fact that there are 185,000 murders that remain unsolved that occurred between 1980 and 2008. Why don't we care about ‘justice' for their friends and families? The answer seems pretty obvious.

Now that Jodi Arias has been found guilty of first-degree murder, it's time for Arizona to ban television cameras from the courtroom.

I'm all for unfiltered access to the nation's judicial process -- which, let's be honest the Arias trial is not about -- but I'm against making killers like Jodi Arias into celebrities.

The cameras made that happen and Jodi Arias loved every second of it. So did prosecutor Juan Martinez.

Think about it. Do you remember the day Travis Alexander's body was found in his home? Do you remember the moment Jodi Arias was arrested and booked into jail charged with murder? I don't.

Back in 2008, this barely seemed to be a story. It was just another murder relegated to the back pages of the local section in the newspaper, the stuff that's hard to even find online.

The television cameras showed us unfiltered images of Arias and Alexander. They recorded every detail of their sexy and often bizarre phone conversations. The cameras were there to capture all 18 days of Arias' testimony and the cameras were there when the verdict was read, zoomed in on Arias' face to capture her emotions.

If cameras were not allowed into the courtroom, many of the details would have been lost. Juan Martinez wouldn't be labeled as an up-and-coming star and there certainly wouldn't have been hundreds of people camped outside the courthouse.

Television cameras are allowed into the courts to allow us to see the process but they create a judicial circus and, instead of protecting the process, seem only to make a mockery out of it.

The U.S. Supreme Court doesn't allow cameras, they only release audio recordings. Arizona courts should do the same. If no cameras were allowed, Jodi Arias would still have been found guilty, but she wouldn't be a household name.

That's the way it should be.

Last week, the Methuen, Mass., police department arrested 18-year old aspiring rapper Cameron D'Ambrosio. The teenager is being held on $1 million bail for "communicating terroristic threats," a felony in Massachusetts punishable by up to 20 years in prison.

Those are pretty serious charges.

But, what D'Ambrosio did doesn't quite seem as serious as the charges levied against him.

He wrote some rap lyrics on Facebook. "Ya'll want me to [expletive] kill somebody?" and "[expletive] a Boston bombing wait till you see the [expletive] I do. I'm a be famous rapping, and beat every murder charge that comes across me!"

Obviously, not only are the lyrics written in poor taste given their proximity to the actual attacks, they're just not very good either. But, that doesn't make posting them online illegal.

Cue the First Amendment to the Constitution:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

What the Methuen Police Department has done should not stand up to Constitutional scrutiny. Perhaps D'Ambrosio's inflammatory lyrics warrant further investigation, but the cops went too far here. They have not offered any evidence he is involved in any active plots. They didn't tell us how many guns or bombs they found in his home. He's simply a kid trying to be bad like he's the next Eminem.

This story signifies a shift in police tactics. Cops are under constant pressure to stop every attack before they happen. The FBI unfairly received criticism for not keeping a closer eye on Tamerlan Tsarnaev prior to the Boston Marathon bombing.

On some level, it's understandable why the Methuen police didn't want to take any chances. Thinking like that though runs counter to living in a free country. The Bill of Rights was added to the Constitution to specifically make it difficult for the government to arrest and charge citizens.

Many police departments are using fear of terrorism to skirt basic rights and are going so far as arresting a suburban white kid for posting "dangerous" lyrics online. The new law enforcement strategy seems to be arrest them all, sort them out later.

Take this from the Christian Science Monitor:

The way law enforcement agencies approach online activity that appears sinister is this: "If you're not a terrorist, if you're not a threat, prove it," (Sgt Ed. Mullins with the NYPD) says.

"This is the price you pay to live in free society right now. It's just the way it is," Mullins adds.

Maybe in China or Russia that's "just the way it is," but it's supposed to the exact opposite in America. Because we live in a free society the onus is on the government to prove someone is a terrorist. Not the other way around.

On Oct. 3, 1995, Orenthal James Simpson was found not guilty of murdering his ex-wife Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman. During that moment, at 10 a.m. PST, the country stopped. One hundred million people were watching live on TV.

Wikipedia quotes attorney Alan Dershowitz's (he was part of Simpson's defense team) book as saying the nation was so captivated with the verdict, long-distance phone call volume was down 58 percent during the moments the verdict was read. Even trading on the New York Stock Exchange dropped 41 percent. America was hooked on the star football player's trial.

I was a 17-year-old senior in high school at the time. My class begged and pleaded with our English teacher, Mrs. Anderson, to allow us to see the verdict live. After rolling her eyes, she relented and allowed us to watch. Back then, I had never seen anything like this. A celebrity, who I knew more from the "Naked Gun" movies than from watching his old football highlights, was accused of two gruesome murders.

The trial lasted almost the whole year and the entire trial aired live on TV. It was filled with mistakes and quotes like, "If it (the bloody glove) don't fit, you must acquit."

The names from the case are still seared into my memory, many of them became celebrities too. Judge Lance Ito, LAPD Detective Mark Furman, prosecutor Marcia Clark, Robert Kardashian (yes, he's the father of those Kardashians and was part of Simpson's defense team) and of course, Johnnie Cochran, whose famous lines are still parodied today.

Fast forward 18 years and instead of the nation being captivated by the murder trial of celebrity, celebrities are being created during their own murder trials. Exhibit A: Casey Anthony. Exhibit B: Jodi Arias.

At first, the Arias trial in Phoenix garnered local attention. Then Nancy Grace showed up.

Since then, people have camped out on the sidewalk in hopes of gaining entry into the small courtroom as if the judge was giving away free flat-screen televisions in there. People have driven in from Las Vegas and California to attend. Some have even come from as far away as Australia to catch a glimpse of Arias.

What's often gotten lost in the mix is the fact that she is on trial for murdering her ex-boyfriend Travis Alexander in 2008.

That year there were over 14,000 murders in the United States. This is the only one that has received this kind of the attention, probably because she's a woman and because there are naked pictures to look at and sex stories to read about. Oh, and there were television cameras in the court room.

The cameras captured Arias' every word during her 18 days on the stand much the way they captured O.J. Simpson putting the black glove on his hand (yes, that's a Cochran rhyme). Arias enjoyed every second of it. Because guilty or not all this attention has made her famous, almost as famous as O.J.

‘Buy American' is an often used catch phrase to tap into consumers patriotism. Despite stoking those feelings, it seldom works.

CNN provides a little insight as to why.

They've released a chart detailing just how much it costs to make a denim shirt in the United States and compared that to the production costs in Bangladesh.

The total cost to produce one shirt here is $13.22. In Bangladesh it costs only $3.72. It's the same shirt, with the same material. The major difference is labor costs. In Bangladesh each shirt's labor is .22 cents. In America it's $7.47.

Add in taxes, shipping and profit and it's easy to see why the cost of the American T-shirt is more when you pick it up at the store. And that's the bottom line.

Price matters. It matters to me. It matters to most Americans. Price dictates what I buy and what I don't. I never stop and investigate which country the shirt I'm buying was produced in. I don't look into what kind of labor laws or what the factory conditions are in that country. I buy what I think I get the most value out of.

Truly, I am saddened by the fact 500 workers were killed after the Rana Plaza collapsed in Bangladesh. But, like it or not, economics and price always win. They always have. Always will.

This week, Sen. Jeff Sessions (R-AL) released a statement warning the Gang of Eight's immigration reform plan "would grant green cards and citizenship to millions of illegal immigrants, providing them with guaranteed access to all welfare and entitlement programs."

In politics this is called the pivot. Sessions is steering the debate away from immigration reform to welfare. These two subjects have long been linked as much of the opposition to immigration reform revolves around giving tax payer funded benefits to non-citizens.

Ultimately, the senator is tapping into the most passionate disagreement about immigration reform: money. After all, money makes the world go ‘round.

Now, there are some academic arguments concluding that illegal immigration is a net positive for taxpayers even though some receive welfare benefits. Others offer opposite results, saying illegal immigrants drain state coffers and bring additional hidden costs.

Truth be told, those numbers are hard to track because as Sen. John McCain likes to say, many of them "live in the shadows." The lack of consensus creates a need to have separate arguments.

One debate should solely focus on immigration: Citizenship, legal status and guest workers. The other should center on benefits and welfare for immigrants and Americans alike.

Perhaps if Sessions is dissuaded from supporting the latest immigration reform bill due to its implied costs, he should offer a welfare reform bill to counteract and help either offset or reduce those costs.

Philosophically, American citizenship guarantees nothing more than governmental recognition of "certain inalienable rights" that have been spelled out in the founding documents. But gradually since 1789, American citizenship has gone beyond this recognition of rights. It has added a cost -- and a significant one at that -- because Americans are eligible to receive welfare if you qualify, Social Security when you retire and a guarantee of health care.

Unfortunately, citizens won't be clamoring to give up the costs of their American citizenship.

Perhaps that too, like immigration, is worthy of reforming.

In 2004, Travis Alexander bought the house Jodi Arias would later kill him in.

He paid $250,000 for it. One year after his death, another family moved in. Their realtor told them what happened in there, but the house was too good to let go. They purchased it for only $206,000.

The wife admitted to Gannett she felt a little uneasy about it.

"I was a little nervous about it. My husband, though, it didn't bother him. He said, 'This is a good deal. It's a beautiful home. It's in a great school district,'" she said. "When we signed the papers, we didn't realize this was going to be that big of a case."

They still live there -- and more power to them -- but I don't think it's something I could do. I just imagine thinking about Alexander's death all the time, but I may be saying that because of the all media attention this case has somehow commanded. My trepidation could stem from the fact that I've seen the gruesome crime scene photos taken in that bathroom.

Either way, knowing a violent death happened there makes me uncomfortable.

The current occupants hadn't seen the photos in 2009 and probably didn't know the exact details of the case. To them, it was a perfect home for a perfect price in the right neighborhood. Even though I'd be skittish about moving in, I can, on some level, understand why someone would.

But what I can't understand is why Jodi Arias tourists would drive by their house to stop and take pictures of it. One of the neighbors describes what's she's seen since the trial began back in January:

"We get a lot of out-of-town or out-of-state license plates who kind of do those drive-bys of the house. That's creepy, and it honestly does worry me a little bit because they're staring at the house and not the road."

She's right. It is creepy, especially because all you can see is the exterior of the house.

I can see people slowing their cars down and pointing, thinking they are seeing a home with historic significance similar to Paul Revere's house. As they drive by they may say things like, "That's where Jodi shot Travis in the head and stabbed him 27 times." Like it or not, this type of behavior has made Jodi Arias a celebrity.

I've tried to understand it. I just can't.

Maybe the family living in the house now could turn this into a money-making venture. They could offer tours of the house and show you exactly where it all went down. It sounds silly, but there's no doubt people would probably be lining up just to catch a glimpse.

It's finally happened: a non-retired athlete has announced he's gay.

His name is Jason Collins. He's a center in the NBA. Over the course of his career Collins has played for six teams. He's not a star player, but he has made his mark in history.

It's about time.

In a Sports Illustrated cover story, Collins wrote:

"I'm a 34-year-old NBA center. I'm black. And I'm gay. I didn't set out to be the first openly gay athlete playing in a major American team sport. But since I am, I'm happy to start the conversation. I wish I wasn't the kid in the classroom raising his hand and saying, "I'm different." If I had my way, someone else would have already done this. Nobody has, which is why I'm raising my hand."

But, there's always been one area that seemed to be on a different page when it comes to gay rights -- professional sports. Two years ago, Lakers guard Kobe Bryant was fined $100,000 for using a gay slur. There are no openly gay athletes in the NFL, NHL or major league baseball.

At the beginning of this season, Collins signed a one- year deal with the Boston Celtics. At the trade deadline he was traded to the Washington Wizards. For both teams he wore No. 98. In his coming out story he explained how that was the first step to admitting publically who he was.

"A college classmate tried to persuade me to come out then and there. But I couldn't yet. My one small gesture of solidarity was to wear jersey number 98 with the Celtics and then the Wizards. The number has great significance to the gay community. One of the most notorious antigay hate crimes occurred in 1998. Matthew Shepard, a University of Wyoming student, was kidnapped, tortured and lashed to a prairie fence. He died five days after he was finally found. That same year the Trevor Project was founded. This amazing organization provides crisis intervention and suicide prevention to kids struggling with their sexual identity. Trust me, I know that struggle. I've struggled with some insane logic. When I put on my jersey I was making a statement to myself, my family and my friends."

Jason Collins became a free agent at the end of the season. Next season, he'll try to find his way onto a roster. He's still good enough to play about 15 minutes per game. One team should sign him based on his ability to help the squad. Heck, he's already played 12 seasons as a gay man, he just didn't tell anyone.

For Collins' teammates, his announcement doesn't change who he is. It merely changes what they know about him.

As for the NBA, the league has the chance to set the trend in how a professional sport will handle openly gay athletes. The teams and the players can accept it. Or they can reject it while more and more Americans are coming to terms with it and risk further irrelevancy as a sport. The choice is theirs.

Jason Collins deserves credit for coming out. He's not the first male athlete to admit he's gay but he's the first one to say so while still looking to play.

It's never easy to be the first but by doing so Collins could bring gay acceptance to even new heights.