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."

http://youtu.be/rJDztqCG91g

"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.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Can you even imagine how much havoc I could wreak if I were the chairman of some committee in Washington?

House Budget Committee Chairman Paul Ryan (R-Wisc.) said Sunday he misspoke last week when discussing the military budget.
...
At issue were comments Ryan made Thursday regarding the military budget. “We don’t think the generals are giving us their true advice,” he said at an event hosted by National Journal. “We don’t think the generals believe that their budget is really the right budget.”
In response, Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman Martin Dempsey said he stood by his testimony on the Pentagon’s spending request. 
“There’s a difference between having someone say they don’t believe what you said versus. . . calling us, collectively, liars,” Dempsey told reporters Thursday night. “My response is: I stand by my testimony.”

http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/2chambers/post/paul-ryan-says-he-misspoke-on-military-budget/2012/04/01/gIQAlwi2oS_blog.html

I'd bang my gavel and put on my reading glasses and look over my papers and begin. "Good morning, liars. I'd like to thank every--"

"--Mister Chairman? Excuse me."

"Yes, General?"

"You just baldly called us liars."

"Mm hm. ...So I'd like to examine the Pentagon's updated budget pro--"

"--Mister Chairman, you have the effrontery to call us liars?"

"You're wearing uniforms, aren't you? Shouldn't you be wearing EZ-care PT gear to come before the House Budget Committee?"

"Mister Chairman, we are the highest ranking members of an honorable military force."

"That's your marketing, yes. You're Army Strong. Quality is Job One. But you are in no way honorable, not while there remains a steaming compressor on Murray Street that lends lie to your whole existence. You get claps on the back and free drinks at the VFW and salutes from five-year-old boys lining the streets of your self-serving parades, all while you spectacularly fail at your advertised function of catching the bad men. So instead you squander this nation's treasure and honor, a safe pursuit that'll help you transition right into a cushy job at a defense contractor when you retire. And further, what makes Henry Kissinger's dumb, stupid animal like you think that you've somehow been 'read in' on the true aims of your banker masters, that you somehow occupy that top compartment around here, I've no idea. And you can't even win a war against goat herders. In a fair match-up, any foreign force of military men could hand you your own asses just by looking at you crosseyed. So which is it? Are you fraudulent or merely incompetent? Pick one. And 'fraud' is synonymous with 'lie.' ...So where were we, LIAR?"
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