First, let's recap:
I have carried on this blog-based show for four years now. At no time has anyone ever mentioned it to me. No one writes, no one emails, no one calls. When I visited Orlando and tried to gather some intelligence, no one professed to have any knowledge of it.
My audience numbers somewhere between zero and ten thousand. I can't know. No one will speak to me. No one has ever spoken to me.
I have been forced to try to divine my surroundings as if I were a blind man, feeling around in the dark to locate the perimeter and the furnishings of a room. Or, more precisely, by echolocation: like the blind man tossing pebbles in various directions to hear where they strike within that room. And if he hears someone say "ouch," he knows that someone is there.
I have only been able to infer the size and composition of my audience. I have no conclusive proof.
In one of my earlier incarnations, after I wanted to be a constitutional scholar but before I wanted to be a stand-up comedian, I thought I might like to be an electronics engineer: the guy who designs your Ipod or your microwave oven.
Toward that end, I took some digital design classes. In these classes, one learns how to take all the various integrated circuits --or "chips," as the layman calls them-- and make an Ipod or a TV. You thumb through the catalog of all the ICs from the various manufacturers, find one that does what you need, look at the specs for the IC, and then design your circuit to accommodate it.
Let's say that we're using TTL circuits --"transistor to transistor" logic levels, operating at zero and five volts. A logic zero is represented by zero volts, and a logic one is represented by five volts. This is how chips talk to one another, by voltages communicated along those thin wire leads on a circuit board. Everything within a digital device like an Ipod is represented by a zero or a one.
In practice, these TTL circuits will tolerate some messiness in what constitutes a zero or a one; a zero can be anything from zero volts to, say, 1.2 volts, and a one can be anything from five volts down to 3.8 volts. You will know the tolerance of the IC by looking at the specs in the catalog.
As the zero or the one "moves" along the wire traces on the circuit board, those voltage levels may change due to any number of considerations: resistance along the wire, or maybe a voltage could be induced in the lead by some nearby component on the circuit board --a transformer, say.
The engineer has to be aware of these things and he must design his circuit properly. If he is remiss, his circuit will cause the zeroes and ones to take on voltage levels that fall outside the permissible range, from zero volts up to 1.2 volts for a zero, and from five volts down to 3.8 volts for a one. Anything that falls within this unacceptable range of 1.2 to 3.8 volts is said to be in the "zone of uncertainty."
If a chip receives a communication from another chip where ones or zeroes fall within this uncertainty zone, that chip will not know what to do with it. But it will do something with it; it will randomly interpret it as a one or a zero. There's no telling. When electronic devices make mistakes, it's generally not because of component failure; it's because the engineer has permitted uncertainty zones within his circuit. Cheap electronics at Best Buy are cheap for a reason; the manufacturer is trying to fob some poorly designed device off at whatever price it will fetch.
For the past four years, I have been performing exclusively inside a zone of uncertainty. One day I'm convinced that I have an audience, and the next day my friends are helpfully reassuring me that I'm just crazy. It is not reasonable, after all, to believe that people on TV are talking to you. And for every inferred data point that would seem to buttress my belief that I have an audience, there is another to weigh against it; "Ah! There's an echo! Proof!" But then on the street, no one will talk to me, I can't get arrested, I can't get killed, and I'm a complete non-person. It's like I don't exist. No one over the past four years has ever even acknowledged my existence.
It is extremely emotionally disturbing to me to exist inside a zone of uncertainty because I CANNOT KNOW HOW TO PROCEED. I cannot know how to interpret the information. My interpretation of that information will be wrong as often as it is right.
So if ever I have disappointed my audience, it is because I am denied valid information. I can't know what you want. Whose fault is that? I exist to perform my function. I exist to please people. But I don't read minds.
Living inside an uncertainty zone is bothersome to me because then my mind starts to conjure its own reality, like the mind of the man in a sensory-deprivation tank. I exist inside a solitary-confinement cell. I am going crazy by lack of communion with other humans.
I have begged for something as simple as a phone call or a cheap paper note that I can put on the nightstand that says "Someone is here." And no one will do this.
I don't understand why. If you people think it's funny, it's not. I don't know what your game is, but I don't care for it. It is bothersome to me and it is affecting my emotional and physical health. I will tell you that I have been pedal-to-the-metal for five years now and I am very tired. My "health meter" is flashing red. I need to do something different in order to recharge my batteries. I will not permit my batteries to completely discharge.
I will remove myself from this zone of uncertainty one way or another. Either I will stop this asinine undertaking and get on with my life or you will start buying your tickets so that I can put on a proper show. If you do not buy your tickets, I will stop. My health depends on it. But it would be the tragedy of the century for me to stop if, indeed, it turns out that I had an audience after all and that success was within my grasp. I do not want to have wasted five years, but then I do not want to continue if no one is watching.
This show is not free. This is not some blog about my Furby collection or how I had such a rad time at the mall with my friends. This is the professional undertaking of a professional comedian. That it may be delivered by way of the internet in no way implies that it is free. If you are reading this, that means that you have entered my theater, you have taken a seat, and you are partaking of my services. You are obligated to buy your ticket. That ticket is one hundred dollars per person, per year.
If you are reading this, you are obligated to compensate the performer for his efforts. NO ONE GETS A FREE TICKET. Are you in the news media? You still have to buy your ticket. This is not "news." This is a stand-up comedy show. Are you in the Justice Department, investigating me? That's nice; I planned it that way. It's called "assembling an audience." It's what you do when you put on a show. That you were conned into entering my theater is part of the show. You still are obligated to buy your ticket.
THERE ARE NO COMP PASSES TO THIS SHOW. If you think you are entitled to a comp pass, you are not. I do not give out comp passes, except in the instance where an approved person is there to review the show. I have not delivered a comp pass to anyone who may review the show.
EACH AND EVERY LAST PERSON READING THIS, FOR WHATEVER REASON HE MAY BE HERE, WHETHER HE BE FOREIGN OR DOMESTIC, IS OBLIGATED TO BUY HIS TICKET.
You don't get too many chances in life. I'm on my last chance. I'm forty-one and I have failed at every last thing I ever attempted. ...except maybe for this. If this doesn't work out, there's nothing left. That's it.
Despite the helpful assurances of my friends, I trust my echolocation. I am not crazy. I know full well that you people are there. YOU ARE OBLIGATED TO BUY YOUR TICKET, EACH AND EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU. You are seated in a physical theater, watching me walk around on a wooden stage. There is an usher coming around with a brass plate, into which YOU WILL place your hundred dollars. Got that? And if you have been here for two years, then you owe me $120. (Last year's price was twenty dollars.)
And you are paying for services already rendered. You pay when you enter the theater, but you get no refunds should I ever decide to stop for whatever reason. (I expect to be doing this for some time, so you have no concerns about being stiffed. But I want no logistical worries should I ever need or want to stop.)
I need those ticket receipts for a few reasons: I need to pay my bills, I need to remove myself from that emotionally disturbing zone of uncertainty, and I need to finance a video-based show. I am not asking for anything that isn't already mine. I am perfectly capable of having my comedy career outside normal channels. As a matter of fact, the comedy I do cannot occur within normal channels. It can't be advertiser-supported. It can only occur by ticket sales.
I can discern only one reason why people are not buying their tickets: the Government Man has wet his pants. I don't care. What the Government Man thinks is of zero consequence to me. I didn't fly planes into the World Trade Center. I didn't mail any anthrax. I didn't rape any little girls and boys in some hellhole gulag.
The Government Man did.
What the Government Man thinks means nothing to me. I completely ignore him.
If you are the Government Man, I want you to have a little sense of shame and at least recognize that it is not I who has acted unlawfully here. I want you to have the shame sufficient to remove me from your various lists. I need my audience to feel comfortable buying their tickets.
I have the jester's license. The jester has permission to speak as he may because he is the least among us. And should one of his betters take issue with his speech, then that means that one of his betters can't handle it. That is the essence of the license. Should one object to the license, he is perfectly welcome to leave the theater. This isn't a concentration camp. One is free to leave at any time.
We may logically propose that if the jester has a license to speak, then he has a license to earn a living so that he might speak. He has a license to feed himself.
Should one object to the jester's feeding himself, then one necessarily objects to the license itself. ...in which case he is obligated to leave the theater.
If one remains in my theater, he obviously respects my license to speak. If he respects my license to speak, he must then respect my license to eat.
If you, Government Man, remain in my theater, then you implicitly agree that I may feed myself. You will not stand in the way of my audience buying their tickets. Do you understand me?
You have only two choices: Leave the theater, or permit the purchasing of tickets. There are no other options.
Now, I understand that people may feel uncomfortable sending money to some guy who is saying things that could land him --and any financial associates-- in some foreign hellhole gulag. (I'm sorry that the Government Man reserves that right to himself. Again, none of my doing.)
So let's structure this in some way that is acceptable to all parties. Let's make this as legit as possible.
I propose working through an agent. I propose that this agent confer with the Government Man in devising some legally acceptable system. And I propose that I be represented by legal counsel.
I would like my agent to be Jon Stewart. I get him already. And I think he gets me. I'm completely down with his sense of humor. And when I rolled out my cucka joke wagon I kept an eye on how he did things on his side of the street and I modeled myself after him; I studied how he slathered his essence on a bun and sold it to whatever unsuspecting customer may happen by. And hopefully he can forgive my admittedly intemperate remarks about, you know, his being a little bitch for blocking my TV show and how I'm the best and all. (You know how I am, and there's always bitching among comedians anyway. I regard it as nothing but some inherent messiness among comedians who are, almost by definition, screwed up in the head to begin with. It's amazing that we function as well as we do.)
So should you choose to accept the position, Mister Stewart, I would be honored to have you as my agent. Take whatever cut you feel is appropriate. Should the Borg Collective start causing you problems and you wish to decline, I understand perfectly. In that case, I would ask that you select an agent for me.
I would propose that my legal counsel be Patrick Leahy. Guess what, Leahy, you're working pro bono. I ask that you provide any assistance in talks between my agent and the Government Man.
Mister Obama, I would ask that you remove me from your various lists. Again, if you assent to my possession of the jester's license, then you assent to my license to feed myself. (And, further, if you assent to my possession of the license, then you assent to my having a personal life while I exercise that license. No harm may come to any business or personal associate.)
I really have very little interest in playing to the unwashed masses. I am quite content with the audience that I have, which I regard as the finest one could ask for. So I propose some kind of website that is password-protected, where the content is available only to my present audience, which is comprised of people in the fields of news, entertainment, government, and military. I'm perfectly happy with that.
So my agent confers with the Government Man and receives assurances that no legal harm will come to any who buy tickets from my authorized agent. My agent opens a bank account for the purpose and sends me a yearly check with my ticket receipts. I finance my video show. Problem solved.
So what say you all?
I need a check delivered as soon as possible. Spring is almost here and I want to recharge my batteries and get started on my show. Please send any communications or monies by UPS or FedEx to my home address at 10 Rockingham Post Road, Rockingham, Vermont 05101. My agent may call me at 802-463-2032.
Thank you.
