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.

Monday, July 9, 2012

Here is something for my law enforcement audience to watch.

It's a video about witch doctors who explain why only kooky men can think straight and lazily point out the obvious.

I never, in my wildest imaginings, ever believed that it would be so difficult to earn a living in my field of expertise, a field in which I have racked up NUMEROUS professional distinctions.

It is simply impossible to talk sense into Americans, and this video explains why.

Americans didn't just drink the Kool Aid during their decade-long drug trip into Cuckooville; they mainlined it. They were scoopin' the concentrate right out of the can and cooking it up in a spoon.

What we are dealing with as we try to erect a legal structure to jam this ship of state's rudder starboard is a nation of traumatized zombies who WILL regard us as the enemy. You are now about to get a taste of what it has been like for me as I worked for years while everyone thought I was the bad guy.

9-11 was an instance of what is known in the intelligence biz as trauma-based mind control. It's like stunning fish in a pond with a stun grenade and just collecting them as they float to the surface. Your nation has been raped and it is now dead.

You are extremely fortunate to have a person with Aspergers Syndrome in charge now. Such people have variant neurology --their brains are simply wired differently-- and they are completely immune to the tricks of the three-card monte con artists on the street corner. And they do not experience fear in the way that normal people do. Fear is experienced more as a sort of threat assessment meter reading, not an emotional response. It is not that I'm crazy or careless or reckless. It is that I take note of the meter reading now and again and continue on.

Isn't it nice to have someone around here for a change who can think straight?

As Fundamental Constabulary gets booted up and running, we're going to have to be mindful that things will get worse before they get better. We're going to have an entire nation of people whose minds are going to implode. They will be very unstable and dangerous to themselves and others. They truly are the Inhabitants of Dreamland. (As a matter of fact, I'm going to title one chapter in my memoir "The Inhabitants of Dreamland have indicted my sanity.")

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