DotTeeVee: Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned 2 COMPILATION, Part VII

Previously on Sovereign Citizens Getting Owned we traveled (not drove, this is not a commercial vehicle) to Jolly Old England where we witnessed the blind aggression of a totalitarian state, we learned that you can't yell profanity in a public space without consequences, another window got smashed and a hero who wouldn't take off his hat in a courtroom for reasons that were never actually articulated got a ride in a wheelchair and a room in the painted concrete motel. Believe or not, today we're not only going to finish, but we have so little remaining material I'm going to have to throw in a special "bonus" video (lucky you, right?) just to make this an acceptable length (what she said, etc.).

For our final sovereign citizen we're back in Britain and this enemy of the state actually gets the courtesy of a blurred out face, a mercy Mister I Ain't Removing Muh Lid in No Court Room probably now wishes had been granted. It's time to blow into the breathalyzer and instead of citing the Articles of the Confederation or Hammurabi's Code our hero meekly complies. What kind of sovereign citizen is this? Next you'll just give the officer identification without a ten minute argument that concludes with a broken car window and repeated deployments of a taser.

Anyway, our faceless protagonist blows into the tyranny device. Despite the craven compliance just displayed, there's still going to be a ticket for some unknown violation, a state of affairs vigorously disputed by the last free man. The sticking point is it will be written in capital letters, one of the main weapons of the fascist state against us. Once they capitalize you, they can sell your birth certificate to China, if I'm correctly understanding how this outrage functions. We must never allow our names to typed out as "shouting," that's the bottom line.

Our unusually tractable free man casually promises to just take it to the "Supreme Courts" and the officer is all "Fine, sounds great." I'm sure a high court has nothing better to do than review the time this piece of work rolled a stop sign or whatever. On the other hand, our hero starts spouting legal mumbo jumbo and tells the brown shirt he'll owe "3 billion dollars" or "three pots of gold" (it's a cop, not a leprechaun, bro) for this incident. This is more like it. You've have totally redeemed your earlier compliance with this total nonsense.

Traffic violations aren't crimes according to People vs. Battle, laddie.

A voice-over closes us out. I guess this is like a classier continental version of "World's Wildest Police Videos." The traveler mentions appealing to "The Grand Master" and "Queen Victoria," earning what's basically a "Sod off, wanker" from a second officer. I just report this stuff. Some pointless bickering follows (I know, who would have thought) concluding with a claim to be a "shaman" that fails to gain the respect you would expect it to. With this whimper the video ends.

But don't leave yet! There's a totally lame slammin bonus video! Brought to us by someone or something called "Van Balion II," aka "Van the Man," it's one more classic traffic stop. We meet our less than impressive resistor, who is already asking for a badge number. Does that ever help or lead to anything good? My instincts tell me "no" and I'm pretty sure the officer's information will be on the ticket anyway, but on the other hand it antagonizes over-worked civil servants who are there for our protection, so you know it's good.

The tool of the Beast State explains that everything is already being recorded, so there's really no need to commit things to "the record" despite repeated requests. This is followed by a crash course in basic civics while the driver looks away at his recording device, seemingly doing his best to seduce the camera. Again, I just report this, I don't make it up.

Hello there beautiful. I didn't hear you come in.

The officer has clearly already lost all patience with this loser and demands ihnen papiern, bitte. Suffice it to say, this doesn't happen. Instead the last, best hope for a free and civil society again asks if this is "for the record," I guess forgetting those references to "everything is recorded" way back 30 seconds ago. "Are you under the influence?" Truly, angry cop is best cop. Honestly, make the request, repeat it maybe once, then break the window and apply the taser. No one who matters will care if you weren't polite to a fault.

Despite being a little blunt with the lover of liberty and high calorie meals, the officer still falls back into repeatedly asking for the required documents and we spin our wheels some more. It's apparently time to step out of the vehicle as we've gone from a civil offense to a criminal offense. "That's horrible!" If this guy breaks the window with his bare hands he'll officially become the best policeman we've seen in any of these seemingly endless sovereign citizen traffic stop videos.

"Maybe you watch too much T.V.!" Well, that would explain his voluptuous figure, but I think the information highway on the computer is responsible for this particular pathology. This is followed by giving the badge number and even the "commission card." Come on, break the damn window! All this sovereign citizen footage, it really does things to your perception of civil rights, let me tell you.

"I don't see why you're so angry?" Yeah, it really is quite the mystery. With that anti-climax, we're done. I need to get another hobby, this sovereign citizen stuff is not making me a better person.

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

DotTeeVee: It Ain't Worth It

Today we're going to revisit two things I'd rather not: the funky fresh early nineties and the "sex = death" movement that was popular back then. Forgive any bitterness that sneaks into this recap, but I was in high school at the time and let's just say I already had the whole "don't have sexual intercourse" thing on lock down without any help from taxpayer dollars, professional athletes and rap songs by Rob Bass wannabes. I'm not saying things would necessarily have been better if this climate hadn't existed, but there's no romantic drought so bad that it can't be made worse by endless "even touching a penis could kill you!" propaganda.

But enough about that. Let's throw on some parachute pants, snap on some ill shades, grab a round ball and hit the court with NBA 2001 Sportsmanship Award winner David Robinson and a bunch of extras we hired! Let's hoop it up! This is much better than receiving oral sex.

All is not well, however. Young ladies who resemble back-up dancers from a Tone Loc video are threatening to kill the healthy, non-sexual good times by literally giving the "come on over" gesture to one of the non-David Robinson players. Instead of recoiling away from the horrific prospect of kissing or God only knows what else with an attractive woman, as any decent, moral young man would, he actually seems into it. It ain't worth it, man.

This results in a ball bouncing off his head. I don't claim to be an expert on the rules of second story hockey, but I'm almost certain this is a Bad Thing. If only this guy was on a soccer team, he'd probably be the hero. Instead the pride of the United States Naval Academy takes umbrage. In a funny detail I notice that's he at least a foot taller than any of the other players. Made next time you should pass it to the nearly seven foot NBA player instead of a skinny, nondescript white teen who isn't even paying attention. Honestly, what the hell?

This is the eighties and I'm down with the ladies.

The man who was once the softest player on a team that also featured Tim Duncan isn't happy. He lays it out: play ball or women, choose wisely. The obvious correct choice is playing "shirts and skins" with a creepy overly tall guy that used to be a "seaman" and making constant bodily contact with other men while dripping sweat and gasping for breath.

Incredibly, the other option is selected. Your funeral, dude. Really. I bet this video ends with his teammates tucking the basketball into this guy's casket after Super AIDS kills him dead. In any case our doomed anti-hero declares he's "down with the honies" which is already hilarious enough without the actor delivering the line resembling a younger, whiter Larry Bird. 

Mr. Robinson makes a face of equal parts disgust and disbelief. He'd rather feel the touch of a woman than hang out with a guy who won a silver medal in the 1987 Pan-Am Games. What's up with that? 

This is the nineties and wanting sex is evil and disgusting.

 

We get a funky beat and meet two more ladies, but don't get any ideas because these are good girls, not like the horrific succubi that seduce dorky men at pick-up basketball games and then steal their precious bodily fluids. Their definition of safe sex? "No sex!" Those are definitely two words I've gotten used to hearing together.

Hey look! It's NBA journeyman A.C. Green! No, it doesn't stand for "Air Conditioning" or even "Anti-Cuddling" which would be apropos here. In fact, it stands for nothing at all. His first (and middle?) name is just letters. Neat. He calls sex the "S" word, which I'm pretty sure is a title already held by "shit." Speaking of which, he promises "fun" and a "slamming" music video. He's wearing a shirt that says "no" which I'm assuming is the correct response to offers of S word #2 and not a reference to "Say No to Drugs!" another well-conceived and highly successful program going on at the same time.

He also won a personal battle with chronic hiccups. No kidding.

Another young lady discusses the dynamics of popularity and how the Adult Act figures in. There's a common belief that the two are linked and "only the cool people are having sex." I guess she's never heard of "band camp." We get an awkward summation with "if you have to follow everyone else and have sex, then who's the outcast?" Excuse me, what? Honestly, it's like a zen koan. I've spent about an hour trying to figure out what, if anything, it means. You're not the outcast, because you're going along. Everyone else is who you're following, so it isn't them, either. Who is left? Maybe A.C. Green or something? I don't know. One hand clapping, tree falling in the woods. 

With my head hurting from trying to parse a statement that defied conventional western logical tradition I'm more than a little relieved to see David Robinson again. This time, he's telling us to think before we act, which is good advice. He then equates sharing an intimate act with someone you care deeply about to "pain and death." 

It's now time for footage from the slamming music video! I'm really not equipped to review this, other than to say the rapping calls to mind an alternate dimension version of Young M.C. who is all about teaching us not to bust a move. The song rhymes "sex" with "latex" and generally hammers home the central message of "just don't do it" that you might have missed the first twenty times. One particular highlight is the return of the "down with the honies" guy and the honies alluded to in that line, now obviously reformed and spared from the horrific deaths that seemed their inescapable fate. 

He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Robinson.

It's NFL running back legend Barry Sanders! He's holding a basketball for some reason. I guess they blew most of the budget on that slamming video and there wasn't enough left over for a football. He has absolutely nothing original to say, but I guess was included for the benefit of the one kid who was all "I'm not letting sissy NBA guys tell me not to do the Wild Thing!" who then was forced to revise this position after hearing from the only good player the Detroit Lions have had in the last thirty years.

One last reminder that sex will kill you from Barry, and we're done.

Komment Korner  

 I sure miss the days of watching basketball star Barry Sanders doing slam dunks for the Detroit Lions

 

 I'm through with this video, I'm down with the honies

why didnt they get wilt chamberlain or magic johnson?

I wonder if A.C Green is still a virgin

It Ain't Worth It!


Aaron Zehner's first novel The Foolchild Invention is available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.