We've seen the traffic stops, but what happens afterward, when delusional sovereign citizens must face the fair and speedy trial? This is an important question that deserves a through answer, but instead I'm going to review a two and a half minute video and consider the matter closed. In today's subject, a citizen resistor confronts a judge (and some lesser civil servants who go uncredited) and discovers there's a lot less patience to be had in this environment than on the shoulder of some interstate after you drove your "flat earth" truthing "property" without a license plate because of freedom.
Anyways, our Free Man of the Land is already stirred up when the amazing footage begins, yelling "Insubordination!" at a bailiff because that's a logical thing to do. I don't think that word means what you think it does. The heroic beardo continues, blasting the state employee for letting down the public trust. I guess that all happened (and rest assured, it's no doubt legitimate) before this particular video began. We can only speculate over the usurpation that occurred. Asking him to take his hat off? Who knows.
Another individual enters, mumbling about the imminent arrival of the judge. This is like a top-quality stage play, full of bravura performances and challenging themes, to say nothing of the champion tier dialogue. "Am I Being Detained," a critically acclaimed single act avant-garde inquisition into freedom and responsibility. After some heavy silence while the new arrival walks over to his mark, our sovereign asks the assembled trope of low-level authorities if they want to make any "counter-claims." You really don't understand this whole "legal system" thing.
It is the bright day that brings forth the adder
And that craves wary walking. Crown him that,
And then I grant we put a sting in him
That at his will he may do danger with.
We're then told that "failure to answer is consent." There's so much wrong with this statement and so many troubling implications, I'm not sure where to begin. Believe it or not, it turns out that, legally, a lack of a response can never be interpreted as an agreement to something, but on the other hand you can just make things up as you go. The millennial Perry Mason, everyone. The last hope of a free and fair society makes passive-aggressive comments about the literacy of the court employees and then just reads the nonsense out loud anyway. Suffice it to say, we get some garbled legalese that doesn't actually confer anything resembling a lucid meaning. The court room is like a wizard battle, just shout the magic words you don't understand and then you win.
Am I being summoned? Am I free to go?
The babbling concludes with a "Do you agree?" paired with a lean-in of anticipation. Honestly, this is fake dinner theater I'm watching, right? Believe it or not, agreement is not obtained from the well-fed tool of the fascist regime we live under. Instead, he saunters past, the bright yellow hilt of the taser clearly visible. Anton Chekhov would be proud of this high-quality foreshadowing.
We get some fairly standard issue "I do not consent!" which is pretty bizarre, considering no one has made any request of the Article Four Inhabitant, but again, you want to check all the boxes. Let's discuss municipalities! Before this can turn into a thrilling Sunday morning local politics show, however, our hero demands to know who the "gatekeeper" is. Legal drama or high fantasy, it's a lot harder to tell the difference than you might initially expect.
What the hell are you talking about, cartoon from 2010?
Next it's time to question the "venue." John Grisham, eat your heart out and move over. It turns out we're in Oklahoma, so maybe this should've been a musical. Anyway, the judge is here and it's time for the "all rise" tyranny that any non-slave must reject. "I object!" You know, maybe watching half an episode of "Matlock" after taking krokodil didn't really adequately prepare you for this. The judge starts laying down the suppression. Who does this guy think he is, God? Far out, man.
The Sovereign Citizen is promptly arrested. I know, who could have predicted? In fine literary propriety, the shock gun is deployed just as the video ends.
Komment Korner
lol dang where is the rest of the video. I want to see the camera guy get beat up to
He's in court no doubt for failing to a provide his drivers license during a routine traffic stop, probably got one of his windows smashed as well.
I can't believe those servants did that to a sovereign citizen! He even gave them a lawful order to stand down and they refused!!
It's ever so much fun when they get tased! :)
Mans that's some concentrated crazy right there
Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.
Last time on Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned we met Wily Wonka's less successful but equally self-righteous younger brother, a hero of the common man swore impotently while getting cuffed, the Alabama T-1000 smashed a window and some crazy woman took over a house because possession is nine-tenths and all that. Now we're back after another long break (It's summer! There's warm weather, fun beach activities and I get to show off my arms in public!) and it just keeps getting better, I will assume based on no evidence whatsoever.
Either way, we hit the ground running with yet another Article Four Free Inhabitant running afoul of highway revenue collectors. Our new hero announces he's not turning off his "live stream," in a bizarre sing-song voice no less, all but giving us notarized proof of his membership in Generation Nothing. We're always "streaming" those misfortunes, we hold camera phones like protective amulets and generally use technology as a stand-in for old fashioned disassociative psychoses. He's also not going to obey the instructions of the jack boot squad, but you're a Sovereign Citizen and Free Man of the Land, so that was already implied. The more of a grueling and violent ordeal we can make this routine stop, the more we have stood up for our sacred freedom to drive like a lunatic or not bother with license plates, these being some of most basic rights given by nature and nature's God.
Soon to be the fifth face on Mount Rushmore.
The bespectacled traveler refuses a request to get out of the vehicle, claiming he "does not feel safe." It's pretty disappointing stuff, actually. This is the part where you're supposed to explain how your car isn't really a car and a treaty from 1745 gives you the right to run stop signs. Despite this breach of Free Man decorum the unseen officer promises a trip to the green bar motel if compliance isn't obtained. Forget you, man, it's totally worth it to spent time in the jug if it means I don't have to voluntarily open a car door. Or, "For resisting WHAT!?!" if you prefer.
But it's a lawful order! More like an awful order, right? Whoa man, far out. Is that freedom rock you're playing, by the way?
Sadly, the door is opened after some more threats and the best the defeated livestreamer can manage is timidly asking if the fascists would stop yelling. Now they broke you, man. Next thing you'll be talking about how much you love Big Brother. Anyway, here's your ticket, time to sign it like the meaningless corporate bar code you've become. "Why are you being so aggressive?" Well, I got the idea from a cheer I heard at a high school football game.
Bubble gum, bubble gum, pop pop pop, we think your Orwellian police state is a flop. Important note: pom poms may be required for this cheer, consult with your coach.
We don't get an answer to why the aggression is occurring. Instead, there's stereo demands to sign the ticket from both unseen stasi. More back and forth, plus there's some debate over a flashlight and the decision is finally made not to sign this contract with the devil after all. Yes! Down with the beast system! The fact that you briefly doubted yourself makes you more a hero, not less of one. Then the strong-arming and thuggery kicks off. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Tonight on "Arresting Joey Lawrence."
"Stop resisting!" Fade to black.
Without even pausing to reflect on the amazing morality play we just witnessed it's time for another confrontation with the so-called legitimate authorities. My professor told me to question everything and I accepted that uncritically. In this confrontation our identity figure is already under arrest, so we can skip the "Am I being detained?" foreplay and get to the good stuff (glass breaking, tasers, pitiful wailing, etc). A police dog (two legs bad, four legs even worse) apparently detected contraband in the means of travel and the Free Man now asks to confront the dog. I'm not even joking. For real, this happens. Who is a furry tool of tyranny? You are, boy! Yes, you are!
No pasaran, dog! Bad dog!
The discussion turns to the planned removal of the man who did nothing wrong from his conveyance, countered with more blanket denials of any wrong-doing. It's now time for what we all came for: the destruction of automotive windows. Sometimes I think the whole Sovereign Citizen movement was a psy-op created by Auto Glass Specialists to drive business their way. "Close your eyes!" Yup, here it comes baby. You ready for it? Uhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
Our humble narrator adds an annotation stating he didn't see anything else because his eyes were closed. Will peek-a-boo prevent this ridiculous usurpation? We're about to find out. Using what looks like one of those little hammers a doctor employs to test your knee response, the faceless representative of totalitarian nightmares smashes the glass and then immediately deploys the taser! This is the Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned equivalent of the double jackpot. The blind guardian of freedom starts howling and I think I need a cigarette.
Hey, it's a quick update on the crazy lady who took over a house from last time! The fake news anchor informs us she's learning "how much time she'll spend behind bars" so I guess that whole "move into a house that's for sale and start living in it" master plan might have had some weaknesses. Still, our undocumented homeowner is claiming to be "Moorish-American" and that "laws don't apply to her" so I'm sure the judge will ignore the most basic first principles of property ownership that our entire civilization was built upon because she said the magic words.
For now, we're left in suspense.
Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.
Previously on Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned we met a nervous weedhead, a man who honestly thought public freakouts were protected under The Unwritten Laws and a guy who looked like what the Chucky doll from "Child's Play" would become if he was somehow made fully human and aged into a socially maladroit forty-something. Now we're back and it's time again to create joinder with these amazing patriots fighting for our sacred rights. Rights like not having license plates, speeding, screaming at other people for no reason, you know, all that Tommy Jefferson stuff.
Instead of the customary traffic stop we start with a face-cam of a free woman of the land talking directly to us. Sanity and coherent reasoning are going to be in very short supply during this monologue. She discusses "breaking even" on "strawman bills" and I'm not even sure how to keep ridiculing this drivel. This footage is what would happen if you took PCP and then watched one of those Sunday morning political snooze-fests. "Are we talking about rezoning or redistricting?" asked the balding middle-age suit as he steps out of the television and transforms into a dozen rainbow colored birds of paradise dripping blood from their wings as they fly around the room in formation. Come on, we've all been there.
The exciting discussion of "bills" continues. I guess the idea here, and this is almost pure conjecture, is that what you pay to the state should only be just enough to keep the services running and no civil servant should be allowed to have a comfortable lifestyle as a result of this taxation. This thesis largely falls apart when she gives examples like "A bastard lost at sea." I honestly have no idea. Helpfully, some Twilight Zone music is inserted over this deranged misunderstanding of the First Principles of government.
We're then told that birth certificates are used as "collateral" following the "Bankruptcy of 1933." I'm not sure how that would work for people born after that forgotten historical tragedy, but on the other hand I have a reasonable grasp on what we call "reality." The good news is you call file some bureaucratic paperwork to get your "living soul" back, so take that FDR. Make sure your name is in all capital letters, though, because otherwise it won't work and the devil will get you.
There was no actual "ownage" in this segment, but wow, I really feel "woke" after all of that.
The government took my soul, but I got it back by writing my name in big letters on some form.
Incredibly, the next resistor has already been covered in glorious detailabout a year ago. Are we running out of strategic "Am I being detained" reserves? Please say it isn't so. Anyway, it's our friend from "Cun-adda" who ran afoul of the Canadian version of Dirty Harry and failed to defeat maple leaf tyranny. The only difference is this version added some little animations, including "Thug Life" and the 420 sniper rifle. Whether this is an improvement on the original footage is a matter for the philosophers to examine, we're moving on.
Next up we get an awkward rotated shot of lights flashing hypnotically in the darkness while our unseen freeman insists that his arrest is actually "corporate policy." "Yeah...gonna need you to come to the jail on Saturday this week." He calls the officer "good sir" and questions the need for the lights, since there is no emergency. The camera keeps jerking around and it might be time to use that airsickness bag, good sir. Forsooth, thou art a knave and scoundrel badge heretic, with no cause for thine cherries and blueberries.
The argument continues. "We are activists!" Give the cop a Pepsi, I'm told that calms 'em right down. "I do this all the time!" Truly you are a national treasure, good sir. Now it's time to walk away because "I control the situation!" Can you hazard a guess how this will end?
You're right, it's time to kiss pavement, while insisting that "I'm not under arrest." My eyes are closed, how can you see me? Pathetic and entertaining whining follows as Democracy Dies in the Darkness. There's some profanity (So edgy! My square button-down mind just got BLOWN) and the cuffs are applied. "You ever hear of commercial lean?" Well, have you, punk? More cussing and acting out follows. This is the hero of our time.
He actually has the stones to say "Ignorance of the law is no excuse!" While on his stomach and cuffed. Then it abruptly ends, without ever finding out the fate of the potty mouth who stood up.
You have no right to set up this jar, it violates the Paris accords of 1784.
Now it's time for a young lady who is also being detained by fascists. We're told a "dog unit" is on the way. Just like you, all obedient to like, tyranny, man. We discuss the reasons for this unlawful usurpation and it remains unclear what, exactly, is going on. Our free lady of the land does threaten to call 911, earning a laugh from the officer. I'm being harassed by the police, time to call the police. There are logical problems.
More attempts to get at the heart of the motives for this illegal and immoral detention are derailed by references to the cuteness of a dog. It turns out our subject was "nervous" which is now an arrest-able offense, it would seem. Obviously the missing scene between the awkward initial interaction and the current situation must have involved the usual sovereign citizen escalation of something that would immediately end if you demonstrated some very basic cooperation with fair authority, I mean pitiful consent to the machinery threatening to devour our souls.
Am I being detained?
Our heroine decides to initiate a twenty minute time limit, but is immediately vetoed by the jackboot patrol. The tool of a corrupt and evil system even threatens to "spike your tires" which I'm guessing doesn't mean trying to somehow pour booze into them. Oddly, the car is what is actually being held and she's free to walk away. I'm not sure how this works. Can we just park it in a cell for a few weeks, since it's what you're angry at?
Now to debate where one is allowed to stand. "Your little thing is over there!" I don't want to know. This earns hostility, but lawsuits are threatened in return. All because my dog was cute and I'm naturally twitchy. Now for the assault, complete with lots of hysterical screaming, some of which calls to mind Goofy cartoons. This is how freedom dies. "What the [fudge] is wrong with you! Are you retarded?" That's ableist. Now I don't know who to side with in this narrative.
The victim of the monopoly on violence keeps persisting with more screaming. "Get it out of me!" That's what she said! Well, it is. More arguing over who was in the way and a suggestion that she might be in trouble for assaulting a federal officer. If you want to be happy for the rest of your life never make a pretty dog your pet. Also, she got tased. That's what was in her, electrodes. Not penis. I'm glad we've settled that. Part Three next week, friends.
Komment Korner
They should call in P BARNES for all these taz them and they likely live in their mom and step dads basement anyway bahaha
lol she sounded like Goofy falling off a cliff
good sir, these people are idiots.......good sir
LOL that woman with the teaser get it out of me in that arnold schwarzenegger
"Ignorance of the law is no excuse".
I have a sneaking feeling he's going to be hearing those exact words from a judge.
I thought these dumbasses were exclusively American
Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.
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.
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.
What is a sovereign citizen? After watching a twenty minute video of some of them being laid to waste by law enforcement I'm still not entirely certain, but I think I'm triangulating the concept. Start with all the worst parts of Libertarianism (So like 90% of it, haw haw), stir in the special kind of social ineptitude found in generation nothing and crown this rich sundae of pathology with a disregard for the laws of the road. Or, indeed, any laws, but it's mostly going to be things like speed limits and checkpoints that our anti-heroes will be running afoul of prior to being, as the title clearly states, owned. What we're going to get is a combination of the modern hippie and the student loan racket victim experiencing the consequences of their own poor choices tyranny.
Our first tale of truth to power ownership begins at night, already in progress. A representative of the beast system wants to see ihnen papiern, bitte. He makes this request in a thick as Russian mud in May southern accent, the kind suggestive of the villain law enforcement in a Burt Reynolds movie. What could have potentially been a teaser trailer for Stroker Ace Part 2, Am I Being Detained? is somewhat ruined by the trooper's general tractability, happily giving his own badge number and name to our faceless enemy of statism. The officer does, however, refuse to give his first name, claiming it's "irrelevant." You can practically hear the sickening thud of that boot stomping a human face, forever.
Am I free to go?
Repeated southern-fried requests for insurance and license are rejected and we discover our resistor was going 72 in a 55 mph area, which is why we have a constitution and so on. To protect that. "Is speeding a crime?" asks the motorist. You might want to brace yourself for this shocking revelation, but it turns out that yes, it is. With that clever gambit somehow defeated by John Law we get our next brilliant legal maneuver, namely "Can you prove that I'm driving." Let's turn a routine lead-foot stop into "Is this chair real?" philosophical onanism, that should save you some points against the license you refuse to show.
The sovereign citizen now claims to be "traveling" instead of driving, which should clear up everything and bring it to a successful conclusion. "I wasn't stealing, officer, I was dropping objects into my pocket and then moving them by walking." What can be done in the face of this semantic onslaught? We get one more request and then the authority enters beast mode, smashing the car window with his bare hands. You should've disclosed that you were that liquid metal terminator when I asked for your badge number, it would have saved a lot of suffering.
Where is John Connor?
The "owning" we were promised now begins in earnest. "This is assault!" gasps the traveler, as if doing play-by-play or something. He goes on to mention his lack of "consent," which is something that I'm pretty sure isn't required by the rule of law. "You can only arrest me for the murders I committed if I give continuous and enthusiastic consent!" Doesn't sound right. We get the expected appeal to police brutality, which at least is a concept with some grounding in reality, while the T-1000, Alabama Model, declares that he's "Fixing to tase you," presumably with his built-in cyborg weapons.
Said tasing occurs, we get some pathetic screaming and even some profanity, fade to black.
Without even a pause to get our heads right it's off to the next case, now daytime but still in a car. "I come in peace," announces the World Citizen and for just a moment I wish I was watching Fulbright Scholarship recipient Dolph Lundgren in the action movie dud of the same name. Believe it or not, the video we get here is actually even better. I know it's a bold statement, especially considering the officer probably won't say "Then go in pieces" while blasting the Last Free Man.
"I do not consent to you searching my spaceship."
The representative of the Global Ruling Elite, all wool cap and general hang-dog demeanor, attempts to reason with the prison planet inmate, insisting that he smelled wacky tobacco smoke coming from the car and now must follow up on this lead. Using the smallest words possible the badge monster tries to explain probable cause, but it really doesn't seem to be taking. The driver than asks to see "Your Supervisor" as if this is a truculent fast food employee who made your Dinner Dog incorrectly or something.
Instead of getting the manager the tool of oppression reaches into the vehicle, prompting less than masuculine cries of "Help!" and "I do not consent!" while a woman and baby scream away in the back of the car. Our reefer smoking friend denies residency in the State of Indiana, which is a nice logical talking point to fall back on after howling various nonsense like a ninny.
The face of oppression.
"You do not smell marijuana!" whines the modern patriot. I guess he's been reduced to attempting Jedi mind-tricks now. "These are not the stoners you're looking for. Move along." Instead the officer declares the car "reeks" of it, which earns the brilliant rebuttal of "No, it doesn't!" Man, I can't wait to see what society looks like in twenty years.
Back-up arrives and it time for another "assault" which consists of dragging our scruffy THC lover from the driver's seat. More screams for "Help!" and, almost unbelievably, "Call the police!" Yes, really. And yet there's still a few cranks that insist smoking something called "dope" might affect your intelligence. "Sir, we are the police."
It's already time for the taser. Say what you want, but it's more humane than hitting someone over the head with a steel baton. "What crime have I committed!" is now the battle cry of this peaceful warrior fighting for our inherent right to get baked in a parking lot. Apparently the batteries are low on the old sparky because it fails to subdue the weedhead or even generate much in the way of pitiful wailing. "You tried to attack my nuts!" Either a squirrel somehow gained the gift of speech and is bemoaning the encroachment of humanity on its personal hoard or this is the next bit of play-by-play from a drug freak. He also calls it "Improper use of a taser!" Five yard penalty, repeat third down.
Then it's time to kiss the pavement while the rest of this brave man's family (?) moan and make tearful requests. Can we get that lengthy conventional foreign war going again, or what?
I do not consent to you moving my corpse.
The vanquished pipe-puffer wants a lawyer. The child screams about getting out of the car and this sorry scene comes to an end.
We're in the cab of a truck, but don't worry, our driver is not the hard-working and generally decent sort of person you might associate with that profession. "I'm getting too old for this," Lethal Weapons our next enemy of individual rights as he awkwardly climbs up to have a chat. The smiling bully boy inquires about U.S. citizenship, but our smarmy hero wants to "Opt out." "I don't care if you're German or whatever," says the criminal with a badge, which sure is ironic considering he's acting like a German, circa 1940.
Another face full of pure, concentrated evil.
The big rig pilot declares a general policy of not answering questions. That will certainly help move this along. It's then time to discuss code 18.111, which is a much better use of your time than simply answering a straightforward question and then driving off with your load of refrigerator parts. After some dull civics class we come back to trying to get some answers, but no go. Then it's time to discuss borders and checkpoints. Maybe this guy is just lonely after a hard day of truckin' and just wanted a semi-friendly conversation. Who knows?
We talk about the fourth amendment and, big surprise, the noble rebel doesn't really understand it. After clearing it up a little nothing gets settled and we cut away.
Believe it or not, all of this amazing footage represents only about a third of the video's total running time. I'm not gonna call this my new regular Saturday night thing, but let's get real, this needs to happen.
Komment Korner
I hope you get AIDS.
The first cop just ripped the window out with his bare hands, that's metal as fuck!
So the key to being a "sovereign citizen" is to pretend like asking
really dumb questions like "ARE YOU ENTERING MY VEHICLE" will
short-circuit the entire U.S. legal system?
I live in Russia and I think we don't have any checkpoints, only traffic control posts.
Where did you deploy?
Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.
