I would ask something of you.
I want you and I to embark on the next phase of our work, which is to undertake the "proving," the establishing of the legal proofs of concept, of our corrective measures.
What do we know? We know that the system is scared to death of me and of that compressor. The system will do everything in its power to keep me and that compressor "below the radar" of the general population.
First they ignore you, then they ridicule you, then they fight you, then you win. They've ignored me and then they ridiculed me, but they have yet to fight me --nor will they, as it is theoretically impossible to prevail against that compressor, which is a jurisdiction killer.
They want us under the radar. Fine. Then let us operate under the radar. It's easier that way anyhow, out of the spotlight.
I was thinking about that guy who just ignores the Border Patrol as they conduct their completely illegal internal checkpoints, checkpoints erected because of the terriss --terriss who could not have theoretically placed a 7-series compressor on Murray Street.
You and I, Wolfteam, are going to wipe away every last vestige of post-9/11 security-related legislation. When we are done, we're gonna hear nothing but crickets chirping and birds singing, with nary a peep from goon squads.
I want you to assign one of your attorneys to accompany me on a roadtrip and to offer legal counsel as we dismantle those internal checkpoints. You, I, and my little boyfriend Malcolm are going to travel the country and uproot as much as possible, defying that idiot jurisdiction and its band of co-conspirators in the "news" media to continue ignoring us.
Under your advice, I am going to violate as many post-9/11 laws as possible.
Please have one of your attorneys contact me. Under no circumstances should anyone just appear at my house. As I said, I have earned the right to be secure in my own home for once. Always call first to give me a heads up.
Get moving. If you do not give me counsel, I will embark on that path without it.
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.
