My Dearest Senator Leahy,
I do so hope this note finds you well.
Hoo boy! We’ve had a fun decade together, haven’t we? I remember fondly our association’s attendant twists and turns, and gasps and belly laughs and innumerable rubbings of a certain someone’s bald head.
I should like to thank you profusely for your stalwart support of the performing arts over the past ten years.
Say, remember when I demanded in 2009 a complete accounting of any and all legal statuses that your esteemed jurisdiction may have accorded me during my execution of my professional duties as critically acclaimed stand-up comedian and performance artist? Well, I know that things move slowly over there. It probably hasn’t worked its way to the top of your to-do list. But no matter, Senator. Providentially, I figured it out by myself in my capacity as artisanal day laborer.
It seems that the legal status that was on the tip of everyone’s tongue the whole time is called a Joint Tenant in Sovereignty. I’ve been standing on that legal status without a full understanding of it for the past twenty years. Here is a primer on the matter: https://supremecourtcase.wordpress.com/
The unfortunate reality here is that your jurisdiction lacks the Article III courts to try a Sovereign in Joint Tenancy for any perceived offense. If I were an auto mechanic, I’d clean my hands with that goopy orange stuff and explain it thusly: “Yeah, that’s your problem right there: At some point along the way, someone thought it was a bright idea to remove the transmission. That’s why your car doesn’t move.”
I like your jurisdiction. I think it’s cute the way it moves its mouth while lacking the dicting of jurisness.
Well, at least I now understand why no one will speak to me or buy their ticket. It’s illegal! It’s apparently illegal now to be a Joint Tenant in Sovereignty. And I can only surmise that your genius jurisdiction papered over that little structural oversight –what with lacking Article III courts and all– by declaring me to be a terrorist. But that’s just so silly, Senator! How could a professional, critically acclaimed comedian possibly have placed that incompatible engine hardware on Murray Street?
At least I have a snappy rejoinder for any who may call me a loser for being a fifty-year-old man with ten dollars to his name: “I’m not a loser. It’s actually illegal for me to succeed at anything. I can devote thirteen years of my life and spend every last nickel I had in the assembling of a comedy career, all to no avail. It’s actually illegal for prospective show business partners to hire me or for audience members to buy their tickets. It’s called ‘providing material support to a terriss.’ And now I know why people treat me like I stink of ass. I’m not a loser, I promise!”
So I just wanted your genius jurisdiction to know that I figured it out finally. It only took me ten years to do this, what with painstakingly smoking out my own audience.
So since I’ve long given up on having my lucrative comedy career (thanks to the chicanery of certain jurisdictions that lack transmissions) I need some money to provide for my retirement and to keep myself in the lifestyle to which I’ve become accustomed. Can I have my three hundred million dollars now? Certainly your jurisdiction’s various documented outrages warrant significant damages.
And I guess it’s perfectly legal for me to walk down the street with a gun in my pants, in direct violation of the Gun Control Act of 1968, considering, of course, that such statute is United States municipal law. If I am incorrect in my assessment, I certainly wouldn’t want to run afoul of your AUGUST BODY OF LAW called the United States Code, which any decent person would vomit onto and then defecate onto, and then dig a hole and bury it. So in the interest of jurisdictional comity, I would certainly entertain your jurisdiction’s legal advisory that walking down the street with a gun in my pants, which I’ve managed to do for decades without incident, is illegal. (Bear in mind that your jurisdiction lacks the proper courts to try me or any other Sovereign in Joint Tenancy.)
Well, it’s off to work, Senator. I have to rake some leaves.
Please reply only by email. I do not check my Postal Service mail, except by special arrangement, as there is only ever overdue bills in my mailbox. Not a single flower to be found.
Thank you for your kind attention in this matter.
Felicitously,
(Signed)
Christopher King, Sovereign in Joint Tenancy; Principal, United Sovereigns of America
Secret Penis Time 