DotTeeVee: Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned 2 COMPILATION, Part III

I know, I promised this over a month ago and then failed miserably on the old follow-through. In my defense I didn't realize how difficult it would be to slog through nearly an hour worth of freedom getting wrecked by the worst imaginable tyrannies. I started to feel like I was being detained myself, but then I remembered I was free to go. Fortunately for the sports gambling and stock market bots that frequent this blog I've decided to voluntarily restore joinder with this amazing and critically acclaimed inquisition into the Sovereign Citizen movement, so let's dive right back in. Last time we learned that our birth certificates are bought and sold on the Chinese Dry Goods Exchange, we met an "activist" who failed to defuse a police encounter by offering Pepsi and nearly paid the ultimate price and we discovered that there is such a thing as "too cute" in a dog. Today, we've got even more life lessons, or at least that would be a sensible presumption.

We get off to a hot start by meeting a man who resembles Willy Wonka's far less successful younger brother. Something tells me that we're going to end this segment with a "You lose, good day sir!" Just a wild guess. Anyway, the Wilder Lite is in the middle of a call to some agent of the Beast System. It might be a badge fascist, since he's already getting read his rights from whoever is on the other end of the line. Not the best start to my efforts to buy back my birth certificate from East Asia. "Anything I say can be used against me in a court of law?" outrages the Free Man and this is quickly confirmed.

Slugworth stole my recipe for balloon candy? What?

When asked to clarify his understanding of the situation the resistor declares that his rights emanate from God and not something a police officer reads off a tiny card. This is the hero we don't deserve. "I'm in charge!" he insists, which is right up there with "You can't arrest me" and "I was told I'm special and unique" when it comes to impotent bravado. To punctuate this limp stand against evil he rises out of the chair, giving us a nice close-up of the frontal "area" before walking away from the camera. Low production values and poor blocking in a homemade Sovereign Citizen recording? It's more likely than you might expect.

A blanket denial of understanding the plain English that was read off a laminated piece of paper follows, while baby and dog noises from off-camera add to the surreal atmosphere. A question about an "attorney" earns an outraged "What???" Ignorance of that obscure and rarely seen profession is certainly understandable. Suffice it to say, there is no legal representation for the Man They Can't Break. Without any resolution, it's over. This entire segment seemed more like some sort of lazy student film. It's called "Free Wonka," dudemar. It's, like, a commentary on the shackles that bind us to this dying society or whatever. Real hype stuff, I still have to put in some music and fix all the mistakes like that extreme crotch shot in editing.

Back to cuffing one of the losers from last week month while flashing lights threaten to trigger epilepsy. "Where's the blood coming from?" My best guess, and this is just a guess, would be "cuts in your flesh." While the speculation continues the man who refuses to be a barcode for a soulless nightmare state yells semi-coherently about "mob mentality" which would make a little more sense if he was being lynched instead of arrested by duly appointed officers. I mean, it's really a good point, never mind that. Mobs, man. That diffusion of responsibility doe.

Am I under arrest? Am I free to leave?

Time to discuss our rights, namely the right to be an "asshole" after tackling. This was originally going to be the Third Amendment before we got that weird bit about quartering soldiers in our homes. Additional potty mouth follows. "I'll stop when I'm done!" Whoa, totally far-out and with it, man. Take that, establishment. He apparently is done, because we cut away.

Next up is more footage I've already examined in loving detail. The short version is a southern-fried version of the T-1000 breaks a car's window barehanded in pursuit of humanity's last, best hope. Which turns out to be some goof who was "traveling" and refuses to give the papiern. Then he gets zapped with a tazer. Seriously, if you love the genre of Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned, and you shouldn't be reading this if you don't, this one is top shelf. 

Back to our telephone calling, attorney ignoring, suit wearing, wonka-looking son-of-a-gun. He's back out of the chair, leaving more "fix it in post" work for the aspiring filmmaker. Now the stranger on the other end is asking for a "Last Name," probably so he can sell it on the gray market. While this happens we get more waist-down shots. Seriously, I don't really need this in my life.

We leave our daylight caller, again without any resolution, for a news report from the Mainstream Media! Here comes the rigorous honesty, impartial balance and sincere desire to educate and improve the populace, in other words. The fake news du jour focuses on a Sovereign Citizen squatting in a 3 million dollar mansion. The police politely asked this person to leave, but no compliance followed and it's not like we have a legal monopoly on coercive force or anything so here we are. Ordinary slave citizens express bemusement, but what you're looking at is called "freedom," sheeple. It turns out that a woman "took over" the abandoned home. I know, what is even going on here?

  

Believe it or not, she has a so-called "criminal record" for trying to run over Brown Shirts in a traffic stop. And that's all for this highly polished and compelling tale from the local news. Will we use the rule of law to evict this decent and highly sane individual, or will "I do not consent to being arrested!" work for the first time ever? I don't know, it just ends abruptly.

More to come, hopefully in a more timely fashion!

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.  

DotTeeVee: Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned 2 COMPILATION

I used to have a difficult time relating to the pathetic, broken losers who camp out waiting for a sequel to be released, wasting the precious gift of life anticipating an escapist fantasy that is sure to be a disappointment because of its inherent limitations. I guess I still do, but on the other hand I'm mad hype for the long-awaited second edition of sovereign citizens trying their "this is not the car without plates you're looking for" mind tricks only to suffer the ignominy of being "owned." With another forty-plus minutes to get through it looks like this will be my new Saturday night thing.

Unlike most Part Twos we don't waste any time catching the viewer back up or explaining the premise for newcomers. Instead we're already deep in the conflict between Free Men of the Land and the 1984 nightmare state as an unseen fascist politely asks for ihnen papiern, bitte. Of course, it can't be that easy, otherwise we might not get wrecked. Our full-faced hero of the pound-sign resistance explains that he's "the human being that owns the entity." Could this be the new word magic? Just call your car an "entity" like in one of those PG-13 horror films about hauntings and you should be off the hook. It's not like you're going to get your window broken or zapped with a taser or bracelets behind the back, that's for sure.

For all your traveling needs.

We get a request for insurance and, incredibly, compliance follows. Shouldn't you be citing the Articles of the Confederation at this point? Come on, man. He even shows his license to the friendly face of totalitarian evil! Just as I'm about to lose all hope (We are the dead, etc.) the officer notes that he's "never seen a license like this before?" Excuse me officer, but this License to Oogle is pretty standard issue and thoroughly legitimate. I also have a "Female Body Inspector" card if you need to see that.

We skip ahead, mercifully, to our anti-hero explaining that his narcotics are legitimate prescription Colorado Cools, and as such perfectly legal. Still he's "under arrest for marijuana." Meanwhile the goon squad slips on a black glove, no doubt in preparation for massive Constitutional violations. What about, like, my right to get nice and evenly baked? Is that even factoring into the decision process here?

 I'm gonna need you to smell the glove.

Our identification figure continues to argue his "lawful right" to get blown, but it's clear this is a losing battle, what with the lack of case law from the eighteenth century being cited. No wonder they call it dope. The door is opened and the full-figured champion of the sacred freedoms of this land insists he isn't being arrested, despite considerable evidence to the contrary. The owning finally occurs as our hemp smoking friend is shoved into the side of the car with a satisfying "Ow!" Then it's back to insisting his Satan Weed is actually "medicinal" before being driven to the ground. 

"I'm not resisting!" is said repeatedly while the Chong this generation deserves flops like a freshly landed halibut on the pavement. The cuffs are put on while he continues to rant ineffectually about his right to get lit. Another weedhead defeated, good work officer.

We jump to the next vignette, where our unseen narrator records a police car pulling up with obscene resignation. Heavy breathing follows. Seriously, we get a lengthy piece of video that is nothing but painful sounding huffing and puffing while the police state leisurely gets into position. Apparently the free citizen's own erratic behavior (walking into traffic, screaming, etc) provoked the arrival of the goon squad, a likely story. This is tyranny. Despite "not consenting to contact" the no-nonsense cop, I mean criminal with a badge, demands a "favor." I wonder how this will play out?

 I bet this guy wants to hear all about admiralty law.

"Step away from the bag!" Meanwhile more officers are arriving. You wanted attention, now you have it. No one wants to discuss probable cause, and our cameraman is instead told to sit down. No way, beast system. I have a right to scream menacing nonsense at random passerby. Some barely legible red text on the screen provides a massive spoiler for what is about to happen (Assault!) and sure enough after trying to leave it's time to roll on the ground with help from the oppression squad. Sadly the camera got turned off by the officers during the struggle (how convenient!) and you'll just have to imagine the worst, I guess.

New scene, a Ford Truck from the distant past, before the average cab height was about ten feet in the air, disgorges a scruffy sovereign citizen. He's told to "stand at the front of the car" but comes back with an impressive "Why?" Checkmate, dictatorship.

Another rejected Travis Bickle audition. 

Ford Truck Driver is told to "have a seat" on the car. What is it with gestapo wanting us to sit down, man? It's bad for the circulation, unlike my "medicine." The last free man complies, showing off his impressive mane of lightly washed hair and general slovenly appearance. Apparently this handsome rake was involved in a "hit and run" according to witnesses. How can I use my incorrect reading of the Mayflower Compact to get me out of this one? If your answer was speaking semi-coherently about who exactly made the allegations than congratulations, you share a mind with free man adult Chucky doll here.

We discuss the lack of communication and even call for a "rewind" while making the appropriate circular hand gestures. Then the disheveled traveler reaches in his pockets, prompting a stern rebuke. Now it's time to put those same hands on the hood, but the champion of the right to crash into someone and drive off actually has the stones to say "Shoot Me!" Yeah, if only.

He finally assumes the position, dropping some unseen item (A miniature Constitution? My legal joints? A non-legitimate license?) in the process. An attempt to open a forum on the meaning of "probable cause" is swatted aside (A witness statement might, just might, qualify). "Are you listening?" Next thing we know, this Brad Pitt look-a-like is getting manhandled by uniformed thugs while continuing to mutter inanities during the cuffing.

Are you even listening, dude?

Another car pulls up, complete with point-of-view action driving. The production values, they keep getting better and better. The third officer rushes up with a taser. "Tase me!" is offered as one last act of defiance, but we're a little less reluctant to deploy the zapper as opposed to the hand cannon. First some painful electricity, than an awkward fall to the ground that looked really painful for the Free Man. Another police car pulls up. The scene ends with no less than four puppets of a criminal state working to subdue this goof. This is my special day where I got to be the Big Boy, I'll always cherish it. 

I'm only eight minutes in. According to my pocket calculator that means we might do five of these. The "Holiday Season" has come early.

Komment Korner  

For me busting the window is like busting a load

I got a dui once because I had a prescription that was a day expired.

 
As a cop, as soon as someone starts giving you a bunch of legal terms, you know you might have to tase an idiot today

the second guy looks like a human form of Chucky.

sees the time "Oh I should probably go to bed" sees a 42 minute video of sovereign idiots "NAH"

love watching these idiots getting there ass beat

Jesus christ, what HAPPENED to the guy @4:00? He looks like a goddamn manikin and his lips aren't moving. He's gotta be either high or drunk off his ass.

I THREW IT ON THE GROUND!!! I'm not a part of your system!!

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.     

DotTeeVee: Sovereign Citizen in Canada. Goes from Brave to Baby in 2 Seconds

I have endeavored to be as through as possible during my endless tour de force examination of the sovereign citizen war on traffic laws and general politeness, but there has been one glaring oversight. What about Canada? Are there Free Men of the Land in the Great White North? Do they incorrectly quote the Magna Carta and the NHL rule book? These thoughts have haunted my dreams and tortured the miserable hours of waking awareness. Fortunately, as if in a miraculous answer to a desperate prayer, we're finally going to see how they do things in Canadia. Grab an unusually strong beer, tuck into some of that round bacon and gooey fries, it's time to go from brave to baby in a few heartbeats.

As per tradition we pick up the action already in progress, with our hero pulled over and getting the degree absolute from tyrannical government thugs. With his voice cracking badly the faceless champion of all that is good wants to know if there's a crime he's suspected of, while the Royal Canadian Automobile Police points out "You don't have a license plate, eh."

Much like the face of war the grim leering visage of traffic stop usurpation never changes, even when you reach latitudes where, strictly speaking, the cold should wipe out all human life. The champion of Free Canucks refuses a demand for his papers, bitte from the jackboot squad and if experience has taught me anything we can expect to go in circles over this for quite awhile before finally a window gets smashed and a taser is applied to where the Free Man's legs intersect.

We discuss the "Highway Traffic Act" but sadly don't try to claim "I'm just traveling" while the camera ends up pointed at the roof of the car. This is riveting stuff, better than any scripted drama or 2 am wino fight.

You can get out of all this just by saying "I'm traveling, eh."

The last sane man points out that he's renounced all "contracts" to the law, which seems like a reasonable argument. He then claims to be part of the Republic of "Cun-adda." Talk about your masterstrokes, just slightly mispronounce the name of your country and all its laws magically go away. I ain't gettin' no plates on my travel device, sucker. I'm a citizen of Ammer-Ka. Check and mate.

While handing over papers, but not the papers the stasi want, of course, he then explains that "Canada is dissolved." It turns out America Junior is a "criminal organization." Yes, Canada is a disbanded mafia nation, just like I always suspected. We go further down the rabbit hole as the Cun-adda citizen blames the government (the one that fell apart or Cun-adda's?) for kidnapping his child. I'm not sure how this is germane to driving without plates, but on the other hand I'm an ignorant American who didn't even know about the big dissolve in the frozen wastes.

He then claims that "the judge bowed down to me" when his case went to trial. Although the footage has sadly been lost I don't see any reason to doubt this claim, especially after seeing these goofs in action in a legal setting, racking up convictions and taser shocks.

It's actually true!

The champion of individual rights just keeps rolling, shutting down the overly polite Canadian officer, even suggesting his "Oath to the Queen has been abolished." This glorious rhetorical victory is somewhat undermined by the fact that his speech patterns and general demeanor call to mind a thirteen-year-old boy trying to talk to a girl at a junior high dance, but still, take that. Just when his smugness is approaching a critical mass two other cruisers arrive. "I don't care!" insists the dissident, his voice quivering and his rat-like features contorting in obvious distress. He does recover quickly and challenges the Beast State to do its worst.

An attempt to open the car door is defeated and earns us another lecture on the rights of a Precious and Unique individual, before it's time to try to drive off. After about one second of attempted driving the guns come out. Man, you can only push the former criminal nation of dissolved Canada so far before the smiles vanish and the fangs come out. 

  Feeling lucky, eh?

We get some panicky narration, an insistence of innocence and one crazy Canuck cop who clearly plays by his own rules, is a loose cannon and causes massive property destruction but is kept around because he gets results. This tense standoff continues, with the evil authority no doubt thinking some minor variation of "Make my day" and our hero continuing to rail against the dying the northern lights. Finally, it's window breaking time. "You gonna break my window?" Yeah, I think that's the plan. 

Canada's version of the hero from the movie "Cobra" smashes the glass and demands compliance, while the Free Man swears and howls in pain. If only this could have been prevented, somehow, but I'm not about to give up my rights and sacred vows to the Queen. As the gestapoism triumphs we fade to black, dissolving away under a storm of tyranny, much like Canada herself.

Driver's side window is done like dinner.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0gzISrrsGPc 

Komment Korner   

you are an idiot I hope they beat his buttt

I bet his license plate was a home made sign that said "traveler" on it. That's how these idiots operate.

cana da he pronounces canada the same way they fucking did in ren and stimpy

You guys have Wendy's in Canada?

This guy is one of those cases in which their parents should have had a condom

That guy sounds like that squeaky-voiced acne kid from The Simpsons.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.

DotTeeVee: Sovereign Citizens Being Owned, Part 3

It's with bittersweet feelings and wistful yearnings for past days that I bring this amazing trilogy to a close. Like reaching the end of a beloved novel or one of those "Save often!" video games there's a certain sadness that it will soon be over, that I'll have to spend my time doing something other than watching socially retarded suburban rebels make meaningless and doomed stands against the apparatus of power. I guess we should smile because it happened instead of weeping because it's about to end. Let us create joinder one more time, you're not being detained but I'll ask you to stick around anyway and join me among real "We are the dead" heroes who just won't provide those papers without a long and pointless struggle that ends with ownership.

Am I not under arrest?

We're right back in the thick of things with a so-called "roadside safety check," which we all know it how Hitlerism got its foot in the door. This time we get a good look at our spectacled resistor with his squared away haircut and demeanor that starts out relatively pleasant and non-crazy. If they only knew. We get the usual dog-chasing-tail act of asking if this counts as being detained and it's pretty clear that is the case, but better ask a fifth time just to be sure. 

Then, the impossible happens and a sovereign citizen is actually right about something! I know, law of averages, broken clock twice a day, but it's still surprising. The officer says he asked for identification and is told by the Free Man of the Land that he hasn't and a quick review of the footage reveals this is indeed the case. You pretty much have to stop this unconstitutional pull-over now, in the face of a rare victory. Instead the state sponsored violence ramps up as the badge thugs open the car door and our hero lets out a series of "Whoas!" like he's a young Joey Lawerence or something. 

World's Mildest Police Videos.

The system tool explains that driving is not a right, which sure sounds like fascist talk to these ears. Officer Angry has clearly lost all patience with the freedom rider and in the face of this the necessary papiern is meekly handed over. Like a mobious strip we continue to eat that tail forever as it's time for more questions about detainment and its relationship to the driver's current status, which is met with more barking and a little reminder that the State of Illinois does not tolerate back-sass. Maybe try it in Minnesota next time, I don't even know.

After all this our protagonist wishes to remain silent unless an attorney is present. The query that prompted this cliched response was "Is this your address?" Let me please confer with legal counsel before I answer that, and then when I do I'll take the fifth. Isn't it taser time yet? Instead we briefly discuss the fifth amendment and then are indeed free to leave, having accomplished the noble purpose of making another human unit angry.

Bin ich verhaftet?

The scene shifts to an interior where difficult questions about names are about to get bizarre responses. Our unseen champion claims not to have a first or last name, so I guess it's the Clint Eastwood character from all those westerns, with all the toughness and likeability stripped away, naturally. Then he says his name is "Robert," provoking laughter from the civil servant. Nothing funny about our right to play legal make-believe, man.

Please tell me more about how the Magna Carta gives you the right not to have a name.

It's then explained that our dissenter is not a person, and as such isn't subject to the admiralty and maritime law of this court. Now everyone is having a nice chuckle, but the fact remains that there's no denying the unpersonhood of our narrator. Kind of like in grade school when you're not part of the game of tag and as such can't be made "it" or be given girl cooties. This is how jurisprudence works.

"What are you?" is sadly not answered with a claim to be the Bat Man, but merely an ordinary man who is also not a citizen of the United States according to a misreading of a treaty with Tunisia from 1795 or whatever. At this point I half expect references to the Code of Hammurabi, it would be just as relevant. He then claims to be a "State Citizen" which at least gets us up to about 1861 or so. The smile is now long gone from the questioner, replaced with annoyed bemusement.  

I regret to inform you that the Civil War is over and your side lost.

It turns out that our non-person is from Idaho, which of course didn't enter the Union until 1890, putting another bullet into a legal argument that's already long dead. As per tradition a request for a license becomes an issue of contention. His person has one, but he doesn't. Wait, I thought you weren't a person? It's almost like you're just firing off random phrases and concepts with no real understanding and in general making a fool of yourself for no good reason, but we all know courts are bad so keep up that good fight. 

"I don't wish to create joinder with you." If you were a sexy woman, well maybe. With that the interaction ends and it's time to go address the prosecutor. However the way is blocked by government goons infringing the freedom of movement. The jack-boot squad won't let the Idaho citizen in with the camera, provoking more righteous passive-aggression. This Braveheart moment is somewhat undermined by one of the thugs telling him to leave the camera with his mother, who is apparently sitting across the room. Not now Mom, I'm fighting for my rights! No, I didn't get a job today.

"You are not God!" Yeah, really. Only the unmoved mover can ask me to shut off my recording devices and you ain't him, pal. After acknowledging his lack of divinity the guard absorbs a speech about rights and wrongs, but remains intractable. An attempt to enter is stopped by a human Berlin Wall and now it's already zapping time.

Isn't God, but does shoot lightning from the hands.

The shock is deployed and we get some quality agonized moans. Then it's time for the cuffs. Now Mommy will have to bail you out, nameless non-entity.

Back to the familiar confines of a motor vehicle where a rather doughy officer is demanding the usual laminated items. "As a man what right do you have to stop another man?" Wow. Our well-fed authority figure doesn't even attempt an answer and we skip ahead to a discussion of whether speeding is a crime or not. Hint: it is. An attempt to explain the contra position is severely undermined by incoherent rambling and even an "Aw, you know" in place of the expected citation of the Volstead Act or Wagonry Guidelines of 1804. Yeah, come on, you know what I'm trying to say.

Attempts to cite case law are ignored, and yes, you are being detained. More fuzz arrive and a request to "stand down" instead provokes the brown shirt.

Incredibly he doesn't actually hit anything. This time.

After what baseball announcers would call a "check swing" it's time to demand the opening of the car window. Get the supervisor! I'm going to give you all "very poors" on the customer service feedback card, officer. The window gets smashed, followed by kissing some pavement. With that this examination of our sovereign rights as free men of the land ends with both a bang and a whimper, appropriately enough.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.