It just seemed like so much trouble. And as you know, I’m always looking for the easy way of doing things, like forgoing a television career ten years ago so that I might do my own show my own way on the internet.
And that leads me to our next topic, which is that of our annual pledge drive –which actually seems to occur every couple of months when I feel the need to hector my audience to buy their tickets.
1. This is not a “blog” of my random thoughts. This is a show. It has narrative and theatrical arcs. It is the professional undertaking of a professional comedian. My every utterance on the internet over the past decade has been part of that show. A show is a stylized representation of oneself and one’s material to one’s audience.
2. This is not a tryout for a TV show. I’m not just marking time until I “make it.” I’ve made it. If I need to speak with the President or the Attorney General on whatever matter, I just type something. And no one here would maintain that my show would play on TV. In that medium, I’d have time to utter two words before being immediately fired. And then I’d wind up back here. So let’s just cut out the middle man.
3. There is nothing about the internet that implies that intellectual property carried thereupon is free of charge. Yes, my material here is easily accessible and it is not password protected. I do that on purpose so that customers may easily inspect my wares. Do you remember back in the olden days when the general store had all the items behind the counter? And the proprietor would take an item off the shelf behind him at the customer’s request? So when supermarkets came along and the items were plainly displayed for the customer’s inspection, did those items become free? Just because they were easily accessible and easily shoplifted? My intellectual property here may be easily shoplifted, but that does not mean that it is free. The price is one hundred dollars per person, per year. There is no news media discount. There is no law enforcement discount. You may purchase a ticket or you may leave. Those are the only two options. If you enjoy my work, then you pay for it, just as if you were to attend a stand-up comedy show at the local arthouse theater. The only exception is for the indigent. They get in for free.
4. That you cannot personally see me up on stage reciting these lines to you in no way implies that this is not a performance. If a blind man were to attend one of my live shows, does he get in for free because he can’t see me?
5. As you know, I can see the future. The future of stand-up is this: The comedian will record his daily routine for broadcast on the internet. That show will be delivered by way of smartphone. You will place your smartphone, display side up, on the dashboard of your car as you drive to work. The display will project a moving three-dimensional hologram, eight inches tall, of the performer. So will that finally be good enough for you? Will you then finally be able to conceptualize that you are attending a stand-up comedy show? The comedian will no longer need to trundle his circus wagon on to the next town to perform, and you won’t have to relocate your body to a physical theater. The comedian comes to you, every day, and performs for you right there on the dashboard of your car. That is the future, mark my words. Now: If you people would buy your tickets, I would be able to do a daily video show, culminating one day in a holographic performance. That this show is a low-bandwidth textual show is entirely my audience’s fault.
6. United States has made it illegal somehow for my target audience to buy their tickets. That much I have surmised. If it helps, you should know that no person aspiring to even the barest modicum of decency follows a United States law. It’s a dead jurisdiction. Ignore it; I do.
You will remit one hundred dollars to Chris King, Grafton, Vermont or you will leave. Pick one.