Would someone go get her, please? I'll wait.
Mrs. Huffington, I have been reading your Huffington Post for some number of years now. And I remember picking up --and then putting right back down-- your book from a decade ago. I think it was called Let's Overthrow the Government and Get this Turd of a Nation Back on Track. Don't take it personally that I didn't read it; I found the book on a shelf in the rental home I was staying in during a trip to Mardi Gras in 2003. Perhaps you'll understand that I had better things to do that particular weekend.
If you will permit me, I would like to speak some truths about the Huffington Post. The Huffington Post is in a class right alongside the New York Times --in that the entire front section may safely be discarded. Doing so will not limit one's understanding of political goings-on in the world.
The New York Times --as well as nearly all other print outlets-- do "picture of news." Picture of news is that which adheres closely enough to generally accepted narratives, but which is not precisely true. The print media in this country do a lot of stories about the bad men and how space aliens are coming to get us and that's why we need to feel people up at the airport and kick in doors like goons.
As a result, the American character no longer exists. The country is just another banana republic now.
It was their product lineup, the "picture of truth" model at American newspapers over the past decade that was most responsible for this nation's decline. (Picture of truth is like picture of wood. Wal-Mart sells cheap furniture. It is made of compressed sawdust with a vinyl sticker on the outside with woodgrain printed on it. That is picture of wood furniture.)
Picture of truth no longer sells. It's a garbage model from a garbage profession. Good riddance to bad rubbish.
The Huffington Post excels at numerous things. Politics is not one of them. Dating stories? A-plus. Horoscopes? A-plus. How to plan for a wedding? A-plus. (And I read all these things. I genuinely take an interest in all the fun fare at the Huffington Post. I like to play. Reading fun stories is part of that play.)
But politics gets an F. Your coverage is completely without merit. I will tell you precisely why, and how your outfit threatens to follow the New York Times and the Washington Post right into the bargain bin if you continue aping their trashy product model.
For example, I happen to know more about Barack Obama's history than ninety-nine percent of Americans. I make it my business to follow these things. Both of his proffered birth documents are demonstrable forgeries. His Social Security Number comes up as invalid. His Selective Service registration card is a forgery, the only one in history to use only two digits to signify the year. And when asked to provide a microfiche copy of the original, the Selective Service says they can't or they won't or they don't want to. Something's up.
But upon accidentally reading your coverage of Sheriff Arpaio's press conference on the results of his Cold Case Posse investigation into these allegations of fraud, the greatest insight into the matter your outfit could provide was how Sheriff Arpaio was kooky and how he obviously hated Barack Obama and how these conspiracy theories had already been debunked.
How you "debunk" allegations of forgery when the documents have been determined by law enforcement forensics specialists to be forgeries, I don't know.
As someone who likes to know what he's talking about, I will tell you that your political coverage is garbage, and that the Huffington Post has no future whatsoever as anything other than a clearinghouse for third-party stories about honeymoon destinations and how to get over a break-up.
Do you want to be known for spot-on political reporting and analysis or for stories about how "Rihanna would love to portray Whitney"?
You can have both, you know.
The conventional print media in this country have abdicated their role. They are no longer a party to any meaningful conversation. I suppose it's my fault for pointing that out.
If you imitate their product model, you will lose. You will be as irrelevant as they are.
Do not take your cue from them. You now define how news is done. Not they. They are not relevant. One becomes a powerful political force by tackling powerful political issues. Dating stories don't qualify. Grade school giggle talk about serious questions surrounding Barack Obama's citizenship don't qualify.
Do you desire that the Huffington Post become a powerful political force? Do you desire to define the political debate on any given day?
My stand-up went absolutely nowhere. I've never been able to get anyone to buy their ticket. It's time for me to take my winnings and move on.
If you want someone to oversee the direction and the reporting of your political news, you let me know. What are my bona fides? I got a legal staff in Washington, I can talk to the president if I need to on whatever matter, and I can argue my own case in court by text messaging myself.
I must be doing something right...
If you're interested, contact the Secret Service in Burlington. They have my permission to give you my number.
You want a heavy hitter on your staff or not? You gonna do dating stories all your life?
I am Christopher King. I am America's Senior Comedian and One-Man Weapons System for Truth.
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.
