To be fair, not all small-L libertarians (or, to use the preferred Free State phrase, "freedom-loving people") identify with the Libertarian Party. Rabid tax-haters can ignore the more unsavory elements of the GOP and vote Republican; indeed, the ability to capitalize on anti-tax sentiment is a key part of the current Republican ascendancy. Conversely, libertarian types who see civil liberties as paramount, or who want to stave off any reduction of reproductive rights, can hold their noses and vote Democratic.

But while the major parties may have claimed the loyalty of salad-bar libertarians like these, they’ll never have the allegiance of purists like those in the Free State Project. For these men and women, the imperial arrogance and puritanical impulses of the Bush administration are repugnant. But so is the abiding Democratic commitment to some form of welfare state — and most state governments, which keep on taxing and spending and regulating education and banning smoking, are no better. (New Hampshire is a welcome exception: there’s no income tax and no mandatory car insurance, and guns can be carried freely and openly.) In fact, for most Free Staters, politics in today’s United States is utterly debased.

For die-hard libertarians, however, this sorry state of affairs could be a blessing in disguise. After all, the worse things get, the more likely people are to realize that libertarians have the answer. And the past few weeks — which saw the US House and Senate reaffirm the Patriot Act, and the US Supreme Court deal blows to medical marijuana and private-property rights — have given Free Staters plenty of new ammunition with which to make their case. "I think the real problem we have is, it’s the frog in the boiling water," said Seth Cohn, an affable techie who left Oregon with his wife in 2004 and now lives in New Hampshire. "Until the water gets hot enough, nobody jumps out. And if it turns up slowly enough, nobody ever jumps out. The water’s gotten pretty hot — and there are some of us that will want to go ahead and say, ‘No more’"

Badnarik — the ex-presidential candidate, and a registered Free Stater — takes this argument even further. "I think the Libertarian Party will be the primary political party," he told the Phoenix in Lancaster. "I think the existing government has stepped on its own feet publicly, and disturbed the American public so dramatically, that the cat is out of the bag."

Clad in an Air Force One–logo polo shirt, and looking like a cross between Mike Dukakis and David Copperfield, Badnarik promised to do his part for the coming libertarian renaissance in 2006, when he’ll wage a soon-to-be-announced campaign that will "open the floodgates" and "shatter the rumor that Libertarians can’t win." This will keep him in Texas for a few years — but as a committed Free Stater, he considers New Hampshire his home-to-be. "I’m not very happy about snow, and I love Texas," Badnarik says. "But I love liberty more. And if moving to New Hampshire is going to help me create an environment where I can make my decisions, and government works for me, then I consider that a very small sacrifice to make."

FREEDOM ISN’T PRETTY

It’s impossible, after hanging around PorcFest for a couple of days, not to feel genuine admiration for the men and women involved with the Free State Project. In today’s United States, it’s cause for celebration when half the electorate simply turns out to vote. Contrast that with the commitment shown by the Free Staters, who are literally abandoning their old lives to build new ones based on political principles they hold dear. Furthermore, while the frequent anti-tax griping in Lancaster probably wouldn’t endear the project to most liberals, the ever-widening scope of the Bush administration’s "War on Terror" has made libertarians’ darker dystopian visions seem less far-fetched than they used to be.

Still, it’s hard to imagine the Free State Project inspiring a true mass movement — and though it may sound odd, the problem is largely aesthetic. At the risk of painting in too-broad strokes, and with apologies where appropriate, the Free Staters are, on the whole, a somewhat dorky bunch. They tend to look like people you’d see at a Star Wars or Dungeons and Dragons or Mensa or Linux convention; the big difference is, they’re packing heat. (Hip-holstered handguns were one of the hottest accessories at PorcFest.) Maybe this is inevitable: libertarians are still a marginal subculture, and marginal subcultures tend to attract individuals who, for whatever reason, are uncomfortable in the mainstream. But if the Free State Project wants to become the national focus for current and potential libertarians, a more polished public image wouldn’t hurt.

Then again, the Free Staters seem to appreciate this challenge. Another discussion at PorcFest centered on whether to sign with an advertising agency — one run by a Free Stater who’d offered his services at reduced cost — in order to develop a more sophisticated marketing campaign. This would risk compromising the project’s DIY ethos, but it could also be a boon for recruitment. The stewardship of Phillips — a smart and photogenic woman with a knack for framing libertarianism in feminist terms — could help as well.

Time will tell. The sober outsider’s assessment is that the Free State Project will, at best, peter out a few years from now and join the long list of failed American political and social experiments. But as long as the Free Staters press on, there’s an outside chance that something truly revolutionary is happening an hour north of Boston.

Adam Reilly can be reached at areilly[a]phx.com