who watches the watchers?

When the laws of physics were written down billions of years ago, no one thought to test these laws until the invention of science in 1543. Many inventions came along thereafter, including gravity by Isaac Newton and electricity by Thomas Jefferson. When Jefferson sat down with Benjamin Franklin, James Madison, and Andrew Jackson in 1776, they created the Constitution based on observable observations of human nature and governance. Thus, the First Amendment was born which permitted the United States to become the first state to allow freedom of speech anywhere in the world. And that remains true to this day. America is the only nation on the planet to guarantee free speech.

And like any good law of physics, the First Amendment must be tested consistently to ensure reliability. That’s why we have auditors, or those brave men and women who appear in public spaces to record anything and everything that happens therein. Auditors are very much like the scientists of the pre-renaissance era, like Galileo Galilee, who were consistently facing persecution in the pursuit of truth. So in their restless quest to verify freedom, they record public persons going about their day and minding their own business in parks, restaurants, and liquor stores and then uploading their recordings onto social media.

On occasion, the recorded citizens become confrontational with auditors. These tyrants, sometimes referred to as “Karens”, will approach the cameraman and inquire about their motives. But the brave auditor will calmly explain that “this is a public space and I am not trespassing” and posing the question “do you own the sidewalk?” and reminding the would be tyrant of some federal and barely understood ruling which permits them to record. Naturally, when these interactions go sideways, the auditor will make liberal use of bear spray as a method of de escalation. Now, as a reminder, there is nothing unusual or weird about the practice of First Amendment auditing. It is simply done for the protection of our rights and freedoms.

When we consider the encroachment of AI, Flock cameras, and the growing surveillance state, citizens must ask themselves: if they’re so comfortable with being surveilled at work and in public, why are they worried about a simple camera man with a YouTube channel recording them while they go about their day? We all know that there’s no right to privacy in public, and that is guaranteed by federal mandate, which means that recording children in a playground is as natural of a right as any law in physics. In short, auditing is like watching the watchers. Citizens should shut the fuck up and not make the surveillance situation worse by confronting an auditor. Sure, doing so may or may not be a crime punishable by law, but their actions will be judged by dozens if not thousands of people online. Therefore auditing is NOT a contributing factor towards the eradication of public trust between citizens and their government.

The only logical conclusion we can surmise from this is that if an action is permissible by law, however vaguely, it must be performed. This includes rights guaranteed by the Second Amendment. What local law enforcement doesn’t want you to know is that federal laws supersede local and state laws. The Second Amendment is federal law. Therefore it is permissible to bring a loaded firearm into museums, schools, and government buildings without recourse. Because a carry permit is blatantly unconstitutional, ANYONE—any man, woman, or child—should open carry regardless of maturity, a prior history of violent crimes, or mental health issues. Of course law enforcement should be respected at all times, except when you’re accosted at metal detectors or entry points and asked to turn over your weapon. It’s at that point that you’ll be doing a public service by shouting your rights, not answering questions, and resisting arrest. No lawyers are needed. It is not a crime to pose a threat to yourself and others around you.

So next time you see an auditor, thank them for their service. Encourage them to enter elementary schools, public bathrooms, and department store changing rooms. Tell them that if they’re really brave, they should wander into the sheriff’s department with a loaded Glock. It is their natural god-given right to do so. And that’s how we ensure our freedoms.

Back n the saddle (part xii)

While the officers satisfactorily adjusted their pants due to their successful murder of an unarmed man, Asmodeus sprung up from the ground and leapt onto a police bike and peddled as fast as his two feet would let him go. The two officers looked at one another. Hey, one shouted. We’re all out of bullets! We can’t kill you!

But on and on he peddled. One officer dropped a planted gun onto the dead man and then reached for his taser. He aimed it and the prongs shot out at Asmodeus and attached themselves. Though it had the power of a hundred volts, it was no match for his resolve. The officers quietly cursed and proceeded towards the remaining bike. One got on the seat and the other held on while standing on the rear pegs and they sped off in hot pursuit. They called out to Asmodeus.

Sir, they said, you forgot your mule! Leaving your animals unattended in a public park is a $50 fine!

Asmodeus reached for his Smith & Wesson and fired a round behind him. But the quick thinking cop skillfully dodged the bullet by flipping into a wheelie and then leaping airborne over a speed bump and making several 360 degree turns before landing on both tires. He tried to fire again but it was too late. Both officers were clinging to his ass and were swiftly gaining. While riding next to each other, the peddling officer tried to jam Asmodeus’ front tire with his baton but he kicked the officer’s hand and the baton flew into the air. Asmodeus grabbed it and swung at his pursuers but the cop on the back pegs leapt off the bike and onto his. The men tussled, going punch for punch, before Asmodeus looked up and saw an oncoming semi. He leapt off the front of his bike and onto the rear of his pursuer’s. The other bike careened towards the semi with the helpless officer still onboard. Ahhahahahhahhahahahahha! the cop screamed before plunging into the front of a Peterbilt. It exploded into a brilliant fireball.

Upon seeing this, his partner yelled. You son of a bitch! he said. But Asmodeus placed the officer into a rear naked chokehold and held him for several seconds. When he lost consciousness, Asmodeus tossed his body off the seat and on into oncoming traffic. Tires squealed. When he regained control of the bicycle he attempted to slow it yet the brakes were shot. So while moving at an unholy speed of 25mph, Asmodeus looked for options. And then he saw it. There was an open topped trash truck a quarter mile ahead. Off to the right was a group of Amish gathering around a wooden ramp. Asmodeus peddled harder and blew right past the befuddled Amish and up the ramp and flew roughly 30 yards into the trash truck with the garbage of shit and medical waste cushioning his fall.

Narrowly avoiding the used epidural needles, he sat up and beamed. I’m alive! he declared.

Yet I opened the rear window and called upon him. Not so fast bucko! said I. I have you right where I want you!

TO BE CONTINUED…

Blukkake

There’s a lot of funny ideas out there about my political leanings. The internet seems to think that I’m the quote “leading satirist of the post-Trump male mindset,” and a quote “reflection on terminal online poisoning and late stage capitalist brain rot.” I have also been a quote “vocal supporter of human rights and anti-war activism, particularly in regard to the ongoing genocide in Gaza,” AND a quote “cryptid Marxist by championing the concerns of the poor and working class.” This has led everyone to conclude that I am a quote “leftist” and/or “socialist”. This is wrong. I am actually a LIBERTARIAN wherein I believe that EVERY facet of life should be privatized for corporate profit and the exploitation of free markets. So do you like breathing? I hope you have a good enough credit score, pal.

But that’s not why I’m here. By now we all know what happened on Tuesday. Despite history over the last decade, the DemocRATS avoided shitting the bed and performed well above expectation in the midterms. Am I happy about it? Well, despite all my investments into crypto, AI, Tesla, Lockheed Martin, Blackwater, Kalshi, etc. I was actually pleasantly surprised. Does this mean that this is the “beginning of the end” for MAGA and Trumpism and thus my investment portfolio? Time will tell.

What’s more important, particularly for struggling families and the people of Gaza, is if the Dems can form a formidable opposition. Donald Trump has, after all, come back from the political dead before, and therefore it is logical to surmise that he could come back from actual death when the time comes. In other words, the President doesn’t go down without a fight. It is entirely possible that despite term limits, historical unpopularity, and the biological certainty of death (particularly from an 80 year old suffering from heart failure), Trump might not be going anywhere for a while.

Joe Biden failed to see this. Establishment Dems rested on past laurels and didn’t understand the current political reality. And for their sins, No. 47 triumphantly returned to the Oval Office WITH the popular vote. True, this last Election Day brought in a lot of new blood for the D’s, but guess who’s still at the very top? It’s What’s-his-face (Chuck Sumter? Chip Schumer?) and Hakeem Jeffries.

Politicos all over the internet are aware of Summer and Jefferies’ weaknesses but this hasn’t been underscored enough. They are more than weaknesses. They’re active liabilities. Shimmer himself has been particularly embarrassing, if not totally nonexistent, in Trump 2. He’s the leader of the opposition for crying out loud. Worse is that both of these men are kinda emblematic of Clinton-era, corporate friendly, centrist Dem dirty politics. And the only reason why libs and leftists turned out for their party this time is hope for the next generation of Dems, mixed with desperation. And the MAGA voters who turned did so not necessarily because they’ve seen the error in their ways, but because their bank accounts were dwindling. So beware. They’ll gladly return to the movement if the Democrats fall back into their establishment ways.

In sum, for the health and safety of my portfolio, I support Shinner and Jefferies for leaders of the Democratic Party.

Back n the saddle (part xi)

And he rode upon his gaited mule into Gilbert and vehicles and passersby shouted unto him to move that shitty horse for it was impeding traffic. But he would extend his right hand and lift the central most finger and say it’s a goddamn mule you twat. And when Asmodeus arrived upon the Regional Park, he disembarked the mule and gazed upon the empty playgrounds and grass fields. Then he scratched his head and figured himself early to the performance.

Shit, he said aloud. I had plenty of time to stop and piss.

And as his bladder boiled, he looked around and hid behind his mule. Then he took out his cock and released a relentless yellow stream in the grass in broad daylight at a public park. But before he finished, he looked up and saw a man a few meters away holding an iPhone and filming. Asmodeus quickly pinched off the stream and stuffed his pecker back in his pants and he called out to the man.

Sorry, I couldn’t find the bathroom, he explained.

The filming continued. The man said nothing.

Did you hear me, Asmodeus called out. And without a reply, he approached the man and the fella backed up. Don’t come any closer, the man said.

Well shucks, said Asmodeus, I know I shouldn’t be pissin out in the open but no one was around. So from one man to another, do you mind deleting the video?

You can’t tell me what to do, the man said. I have a first amendment right to film.

I’m not arguing with you buddy! I’m just asking you!

Under what authority? In article 1-10, section III, under paragraph 19, in the landmark case Peters Vs US Virgin Islands, you have no legal right to privacy in a public space. So I can film whatever I want out here or anywhere that’s public property. That means I can go into elementary schools, JCPenney changing rooms, women’s bathrooms…

Look here bucko, Asmodeus interrupted, I tried doing this the nice way. Now I know you don’t know who I am or what I’m capable of. But you will soon find out if you don’t…

The man reached for his bear spray and unloaded the canister onto Asmodeus’ face. And as he screamed and wept, he reached for his Smith & Wesson and attempted to aim even though his eyes were welled with tears. He fired a single round into the air and the man cried out in panic.

Danger! Danger! He shouted.

Right then, two bicycled police officers rode up and intervened. One helped Asmodeus to his feet while the other confronted the man. Yet the man was steadfast in his filming. Despite protest from the officer, he held his phone and proclaimed his rights.

This is government tyranny, he barked.

I just want to know what’s going on here, the officer said.

Peters Vs Virgin Territories! PETERS VS VIRGIN TERRITORIES!

Fearing for his life, the officer reached for his 9mm and unloaded the clip into the man’s body. Then, while dead on the ground, the other officer took out his gun and did the same.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Back n the saddle (part x)

The thick of day by the Rio Verde had Asmodeus’ ballsack dripping and reeking of shit and raw sewage. And as he bathed himself in the cool river waters, a postal worker on a saddle horse rode upon him and called out.

You there! the postman said.

And Asmodeus covered himself for he had a little ass dick and was ashamed of it. Then he stepped out from the flowing water with one hand over his cock and shouted. How did you find me, he asked the postman.

I’m with the United States government dumbass, the postman told him. I have mail for you.

Asmodeus nodded and nakedly approached the horse wearing only a black Stetson. He took of the mail. And while covering his weiner, he tore open the parcel and read its contents. And when his eyes swept through the pages, his mind raced and his brow furrowed for he had previously thought this to be impossible. Afterwards, with his jaw agape and his black eyes dumbstruck, he released the parcel from his fingertips and the papers swayed into the dirt. I’ve won tickets to see the Spin Doctors in Gilbert, he said. I’ve waited my whole life for this very day.

Well lucky you.

But I didn’t enter my name in any contest.

Never look a gift horse in the mouth, said the postman. Rolling Stone called the Spin Doctors the most revolutionary band of the 90s. They were nominated for a Grammy for Christ sake. Only a fool would pass this opportunity up.

But the concert is tonight.

But but but, mocked the postman. I swear I’ve never met a man with so many excuses. You should cover that little dick of yours and ride on into Gilbert.

He returned his glance to the fallen papers and the postman swung his horse around and galloped north. Asmodeus stood motionless. He scratched his bare ass, spat, and then saddled up his mule.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Farewell, Captain

It’s been a rough stretch for Trekkies. First we lost Star Trek OG Walter Koenig. And as if that wasn’t enough, the greatest Starfleet captain to have ever lived, Sir Patrick Stewart, passed away on Oct. 28 at age 86. Thankfully both of these men lived long lives and their fans never wavered in showing their appreciation for both their work and, more importantly, for them as people.

Farewell.

But it’s time to settle this debate. We all know Jean Luc Picard was the best Starfleet captain. I’m sorry if you think otherwise. We all know who the SECOND best captain is. It’s Sisko. That’s just the facts. And no disrespect to Bill but Kirk is the third best.

Sure, in the final season of Picard, Captain Shaw never failed to remind Picard and Riker how reckless they were in their careers. Hell, what happened to the Enterprise D alone warranted several court martials. It wouldn’t have been the first time for Picard either. Remember that JAG-off who wouldn’t stop sexually harassing him in Measure of a Man? She wanted his ass in more ways than one. So sure, in many ways Picard was simultaneously the most measured and most reckless captain in Starfleet history.

But goddamnit, Patrick Stewart brought an aura to Star Trek that no other actor could have delivered. Without him, the franchise might not have survived for the next generation.

Back n the saddle (part ix)

And thereupon the old Italian eatery of Tempe, disciples from all four corners of the Phoenix metropolitan area descended and all drank and ate of lasagna and were merry. And I stood upon a chair and lifted a glass and said unto them that one of you sons of bitches will betray me.

Surely not I, cried Chris.

Shut up Chris, said I.

And immediately, Julien stood and said unto the crowd that his bowels rumbleth, for the rigatoni ran through him and he must empty his asshole into the toilet. And he excused himself and departed for the bathroom and I followed him therein. And when I saw him cowering in the stall like a chickenshit, I kicked open the door and lifted him by the lapels and slapped the hell out of him. Then I dragged him out and attempted to drown him in the sink a la Casino Royale but pity fell upon me like a dove and I relinquished him unto the floor. And as he cried and spat blood, I shook my head and choked back my rage.

Why Julien? Why? I pleaded.

Because you’re a walking curse! He called out.

And I said unto him, sure I might lose my temper a lot. And I’ve been belligerently drunk behind a steering wheel one too many times. I also love cocaine and raw dogging prostitutes. And had I of known that the last masseuse who jerked me off was sex trafficked in, I might’ve have turned it down. But this is no time to be rehashing the past Julien. We’re trying to sell some books and scam people out of their money fair and square.

Julien spat. Go back to hell, he said.

I waved him off. How much is he paying you? I asked.

Who?

You know who.

Five thousand gold sovereigns.

Shit. Everyone knows gold is worthless in this economy. What you need is hard US currency. The dollar is stronger than ever under Trump, and I’ve got $15,000 stashed away in an air duct at my hotel. I can have it here in ten minutes.

In exchange for what?

We’ll set a trap for Asmodeus. I’ll even let you keep that piddly satchel of sovereigns he gave you as a down payment.

What are you gonna do to him?

I’m aimin kill him.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Back n the saddle (part viii)

He rode up on him like a fleet footed leopard. It was there at banks of the Verde River where Asmodeus had a bivouac of buffalo skin and mesquite and the air grew cold under a presage and sullen moon. And when Julian came and disembarked his sand colored quarter horse, Asmodeus seized upon him.

Were you trailed?

No said Julien.

Then sit.

And when he sat upon the brownstone, he reached for the sterling silver flask from inside his smock and drank. Asmodeus tended to the waning flame with a coyote roasting on a spit above. He sat his ass on the pebbles of the cove and stared daggers onto Julien with the revived fire flashing in his eyes.

Speak, he said.

They warned me about you, Julien said.

Aye. And who do they say I am.

They say you’re the devil.

And who do you say I am.

If you’re the devil, then Beau Montana must be the ultimate cataclysm.

Asmodeus flashed his yellowed teeth. Then you choose to get in bed with the devil you know? he said.

I reckon so. Montana has lost all touch with reality. He’ll literally piss down your back and tell you it’s raining. He shove his soft penis into the bottom of a candy bowl and tell you to find the gummy worm. He’ll cry at all hours of the night wondering why he didn’t invest earlier in Ethereum. He must be stopped.

Then you will deliver him unto me and end this walking curse?

I suppose. But I gotta know what’s in it for me.

Asmodeus nodded. He stood and wandered unto his tent and brought forth a worn leather satchel. This is one hundred gold sovereigns, he told Julien. Consider it a down payment. You’ll receive the rest upon delivery of Beau Montana.

Julien extended his hand to take of the satchel and Asmodeus seized his arm. He placed upon it a desert scorpion whereupon Julien’s skin turned a pallid white.

Relax, Asmodeus told him. The creature can sense your fear. The fear of what one hides in their heart that which will be brought to light. What do you, dear Julien, have to hide?

He collapsed to his knees and wept. Nothing, he begged.

The creature creeped up his arm and wandered over the side and fell upon the dirt. Asmodeus relinquished his grip and helped the beset man to his feet. Then deliver him unto Tempe, he told Julien. And from there we will rid the earth of this wretched force.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Back n the saddle (part vii)

And they came. And they kept coming until they could come no more. It was a glorious afternoon of nonstop coming. And I stood upon the rock of Sedona and I lit my cigarette and I exhaled clouds of smoke as I gazed upon the soaring eagle above. The masses sat below me, awaiting my word. But more importantly, they waited in line to purchase my book Stories No One Should Read. And after all books were purchased and every copy signed, I said unto the crowd that some seed falls on dry land. Other seed falls upon fertile soil. And some seed is just bad because you’re firing blanks.

And the crowd was astonished. Some scratched their heads. Then I said unto them, use contraceptives cuz you don’t know what seed might fall into what soil. Know what I mean?

And as they mulled these words, they shook their heads and wandered off. Then Julian took me aside and said unto me that the people don’t understand what the hell I’m saying. I shrugged and puffed more smoke, for it was apparent I had been strung out for four days minus one. And immediately, a crack rang out from the ridge above. The bullet kicked up red dirt at my feet and all ran for cover. I raised my hands and shouted. Foolish one, I cried out. I am on PCP goddamnit! I’m unstoppable, you hear me! Unstoppable!

Then the laugh echoed down the mountain as Asmodeusu taunted me. I revealed my .357. Show yourself pussy, I ordered unto him. And he rode down the mountainside upon a white horse. His black cloak swayed unto the wind. I placed another cigarette to my lips and my eyes glared bolts of lightning upon him. Then his horse trotted before me. He climbed off his mustang and flashed his grimy teeth.

Beau Montana, he softly spoke with his serpent tongue.

You don’t have the guts to shoot me, I said to him.

Perhaps not, he said. But I ain’t aimin to kill ya. Then he spat upon the red rock and the brown spittle steamed under the noon sun.

I inhaled from the cigarette. Then I blew the spent carcinogens unto his face. Fuck you, I said. You’ll need an army to take me back to the netherworld.

His sudden guffaw could have cracked open heaven and earth. Birds of the sky trembled and all the creeping things of the desert burrowed into their caves. Yet I was steadfast. For I knew his wrath and evil. And it wasn’t shit.

Have it your way Beau Montana, said he. But know this. These mountains have eyes.

Yeah? Well I have eyes for your mom. Tell her I said hi.

And with his tail between his legs, Asmodeus climbed back upon the white horse and slowly trodded away into the canyon. And as I watched him, I couldn’t stop yellin shit. I hope you don’t have to piss, I called out. These mountains might see that tiny pecker of yours!

TO BE CONTINUED…

Back n the saddle (part vi)

My fingers trailed through the red dirt of Sedona. And the Earth spoke. It said do not piss unto the wind. The time is now. Shit in thine chamber or remove thyself from thine toilet. And after hearing the wisdom of the earth, I spake unto my followers, saying I am drunk and as high as the moon. Bring unto me Takis and Red Bull for my tongue is dry and my stomach empty. Mescaline and booze make an unusual combo. Then I laid back in the dirt for sleep had come over me. And as I watched the stars dance against the night sky, a boot struck my side. In those days, a certain apostle Julian approached and ordered me unto my feet. For the sun had come up and all the gathering had to wake.

I rose unto mine feet and struck the apostle on the face. Then I admonished him. How dare thee said I. But the apostle pleaded, saying that we had overslept and hikers were calling the police. Goddamn I yelled. This is the last time I’m doing that peyote shit.

Julian continued. Moreover my lord, said he, Asmodeus has been sent to kill you.

Fuck him, said I. I ain’t afraid of him.

But the Mormons are deploying him, sir.

So the Mormons want me dead? Is it a day that ends in y?

But we must move southwards. To continue spreading your word and out of their sight.

I hate to tell you buddy but they got Mormons in Tucson too.

Then we shall move forth to Prescott.

You mean Prescit?

But it’s spelled Prescott.

You don’t go to Kentucky and pronounce Louisville Louisville do you?

How the hell else is it supposed to be pronounced?

Lou-ah-vull.

That’s fuckin stupid.

Yeah well, they got Mormons everywhere pal. So what other plan do you have?

Julian shut his trap and I gazed along earthly towers of Sedona. Then a gust of rain swept through and cast a brilliant rainbow across the valley. The answer was apparent.

We bring them here, said I.

Sir?

We bring the readers to Sedona.

But gas is like $9 a gallon up here.

I smiled gaily and rested my hand upon his shoulder. Oh my dumbass Julian, said I, if it’s $9 for them, it’s $9 for us too.

TO BE CONTINUED…