My Video Intro
What follow are to be considered transcriptions of spoken word pieces that I would have delivered in a physical theater. You will also find video and audio pieces here.
This show has been roughed out years in advance, and material delivered as its time approached. There is an arc to this show. For that reason, posts --that is, pieces-- should be read in order, from older to newer. So if you've been absent for a bit, scroll all the way down and read upward.
Please remember that this is not a free show. This is the professional undertaking of a professional comedian who bet the farm on making this a going concern. Just because it is possible to steal my property does not mean that you may. If you go to the farmer's market and the man is away from his table, you are nonetheless obligated to put your money into the shoebox labeled "Put money here." My personal friends are exempted from buying their tickets, as well as those who may not be able to afford to buy a ticket. Everyone else is morally and legally obligated to buy a ticket if they partake of even, say, a dozen pieces of mine per year. Duck outside my theater for a cigarette as often as you like, but you didn't get in here in the first place without buying your ticket at the box office. The cost is $100 per person, per year. There is no law enforcement discount. There is no news media discount. No one gets a discount, unless you honestly don't have the money. (And to my law enforcement patrons: Even in Lenny Bruce's day, cops had to buy their tickets before they could get into his theater to jot their notes. Jot away, but if you are not here to arrest me or to shut the place down, then you are here covertly. If that is the case, then you are passing as ordinary patrons. If that is the case --and it is-- then you buy your tickets just like regular customers.)
Thank you for coming.
--Chris
Bitcoin Address: 1KtMQ32BoHqBAx4GFjLR1gLrBBp1BSnQs6
Or mail $100 to Chris King, Grafton, Vermont 05146
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This is the product safety sticker that accompanies all my speech:
There was a Pratt and Whitney JT9D 7-series compressor recovered from Murray Street in New York on 9-11, the precise identification of which is detailed in the Capta Brightstick Document. That incompatible engine hardware precludes Flight 175's presence at the scene of the crime and indicts the jurisdiction known as United States as criminal. If you are a member of a grand jury or jury, or if you are a judge, and if this product safety sticker has been removed from whatever speech of mine may have been presented to you, it is because the prosecutor is pulling a fast one on you and doesn't want you to know that the federal government auto-executed itself in a grand ceremony for all to see. Please have a nice day.
Updated legalese, added 11/1/2012 on the occasion of realizing that every time I go to court, Madame Prosecutor is forever waving around my intellectual property contained herein, content to use my words against me without having the decency to buy her ticket to my show. Well, here's something you can wave around: "I, Christopher King, do hereby plead guilty to whatever it is that Madame Prosecutor may allege. I'm rotten to the core and I secretly make fun of the judge all the time. As a result, I --and here these are my words, the words of the prosecutor and not of Mister King-- I have luscious melon breasts and I think the judge is the worst thing ever to happen to the court. You hear me, judge? That's right. I, Madame Prosecutor, secretly hate you and I think your rulings blow. I would like the record to reflect that Mister King is well hung and I ache for his tender ministrations. I suck, the prosecutor's office sucks, the judge sucks, and Mister King is a national treasure despite his plainly stating that he is guilty of all allegations that may ever be made. He plainly confirms that he is a dangerous terrorist. There. Let the record try to sort out who is who in this statement."
"Ta da! Behold Assclown Jurisdiction United States!"
End of product safety sticker.
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Buy your ticket to my show!
Bitcoin Address: 1KtMQ32BoHqBAx4GFjLR1gLrBBp1BSnQs6
Or mail $100 to Chris King, Grafton, Vermont 05146.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Wolfteam.
You now see what I'm up to, what I had sketched out on paper as early as February of 2003.
Piece by piece, each methodically set in its place over the course of nine years.
I always get my man. I'll wait forever if need be.
You will recall that I stated back in 2005 --in my surveilled show, a show constructed in what I call a "temporally inspecific" fashion, a sort of "get in my theater now or get in my theater later, I don't care" format-- you will recall that I said, "You will not understand a single word I ever uttered outside the context of a military campaign, with its attendant feint, subterfuge, and misdirection."
Do you see now the reasoning behind everything I do?
We know now that top-shelf political commentary truly rises to the level of a military campaign, what with the Pentagon's plainly confessing to working for foreign entities.
This nation's history over the past decade has been one of its conquering by a foreign military force, the Pentagon, in league with compartments in various domestic and foreign intelligence agencies.
The Constitution was the nation. They are both now nearly dead. The executive has presumed to nullify its masters, the legislative and judicial branches, with precious few positioned to say, "Not so fast."
Not so fast.
Merely speaking out against such a military conquering necessarily places one into the role of military actor, a role I am well suited to as a result of my oath of enlistment, an oath from which no authority had ever released me.
I faithfully execute the last valid instruction issued. We know that. And I fully expect a medal out of this for my efforts.
This operation is best waged in the fashion I have described to you, a push/pull maneuver, a nullification of law, a reverse half-nelson that flips that beast over and re-binds the hands of men with the chains of law.
I do this not because I am a scofflaw. It is political aikido, executed from a position of perfect good faith.
Quite necessarily, I must declare myself a sovereign being, subject to the rule of no man. From this return to first principles we may then selectively admit certain assertions of jurisdiction and re-establish the rule of law.
In this light of day, do you see now what I am doing?
Please explain it to the judge. The defense of the nation waits for no man, nor for the expiration of his probation. Please explain it to the State of Vermont, especially the Windsor County Sheriff's department, who enjoy eyeballing my car.
I will not permit my plan --an extremely delicate operation, nine years in the crafting now-- to be ruined by one's blundering onto the scene to save the day.
Remain in your seats, please. Let me work. I know how to fix this.
Thank you.