QAnon Shaman says he’s rightful president, sues Trump for $40 trillion

Arizona resident Jacob Chansley, better known to America as the QAnon shaman who stormed the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6 in a striking horned warrior outfit, is suing a host of entities — including the federal government and President Donald Trump — for $40 trillion. In the process, the Phoenix resident is claiming that he is the rightful leader of the United States.

In a rambling, 26-page complaint that consists of a single paragraph and reads like a manifesto, Chansley alleges that his First, Fourth and Second Amendment rights have been violated by a host of parties that are loosely related at best. Named as defendants are Trump, the Federal Reserve, the National Security Agency, the International Monetary Fund, the World Bank, the Bank of International Settlements, the state of Israel, Elon Musk's X Corp., T-Mobile, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency and Warner Bros. Studios.

Chansley says that the supposed cabal allegedly engaged in a conspiracy to systematically violate the American people's constitutional rights. Chansley, who is representing himself, filed the suit Monday in Maricopa County Superior Court. Given that it contains federal claims — albeit wildly specious ones — it likely belongs in U.S. District Court.

Chansley did not respond to inquiries from Phoenix New Times made via the phone number and email he listed on his court paperwork.

The claims in Chansley's suit include:

* That the central banking system and the Federal Reserve are unconstitutional

* That the U.S. government is guilty of treason for prioritizing the interests of foreign financiers at the expense of the American people

* That the NSA surveilled Chansley daily using the Patriot Act as he was writing a "2nd Declaration of Independence"

* That "all radio stations and most of their DJ's are a part of the intelligence community"

* That a scene in the 2008 Christopher Nolan-directed Batman film "The Dark Knight" and many plot details in 2009's "Avatar" were cribbed from his writing and are proof that the NSA was spying on him

* That the NSA catfished him on Facebook by contacting him while pretending to be actress Michele Rodriguez, whom Chansley identifies as "my celebrity crush"

* That he was then "offered the opportunity to work with the NASA covertly and help them deal with other-worldly matters" that his "shamanic beliefs" made him "a perfect candidate to handle"

* That he was emailed by Donald Trump on Jan. 8, 2021, from an address of [email protected]

* That the government stole more than $100,000 in cryptocurrency from him

"These seemingly insignificant facts are designed to seem insignificant on their face," Chansley wrote about the NSA's spying on his computer, "but if a person were in the loop of what I had written on my computer a few months prior those details would stand out to a sharp mind."

The rightful president

In his complaint, Chansley references a number of exhibits that are not included in the suit. Instead, he included a handwritten URL for a Google Drive folder that he said contains more than 1,000 exhibits that prove his accusations. Phoenix New Times encountered an error attempting to access it.

While many of Chansley's claims are certifiably out there, there are some more defensible critiques of the U.S. government nestled among the conspiracy theories.

For one, he claimed that the American government is violating citizens' Fifth Amendment rights by allowing an Israeli official to bail on a court hearing and return to Israel after he was charged with trying to pay for sex with a minor in Nevada. Chansley was also sharply critical of America's penchant for long, pointless wars.

"When we also recall that the Vietnam war was proven to be entered into based on false pretense, then it's no surprise that the same government is continuing multiple deadly wars for profit, and even allowing foreign leaders to dictate American foreign policy in the Middle East and eastern European nations," Chansley wrote.

Chansley concludes his complaint by declaring himself the first president of the "New Constitutional Republic of the United States." The only laws in place in Chansley's new republic are the Bill of Rights and the original U.S. Constitution. He also said that Phoenix will be the capital of this new republic.

As his first act, Chansley said he would order the Federal Reserve to mint a one-ounce gold coin and set its value at $40 trillion to pay off America's debt — which isn't really how debt or currency works.

"I am within all of my own rights and legal authority to do this because all of the information provided in this lawsuit is factual and cannot be argued," Chansley wrote.

The shaman demanded $40 trillion in the lawsuit — $38 trillion to pay off the American government's debt, $1 trillion to rebuild America's infrastructure and another $1 trillion for Chansley's "personal, emotional, mental and spiritual torture and years worth of anguish."

Turning on Trump

If you haven't been following the saga of the QAnon Shaman, it might seem surprising that Chansley would rail against the Trump administration. However, despite Trump pardoning Chansley along with other Jan. 6 defendants — after which Chansley, who'd already served prison time, ecstatically tweeted he'd go buy some guns — Trump's backtracking on releasing files from the investigation into sex trafficker Jeffrey Epstein has changed Chansley's tune.

Reacting to that reversal in July, Chansley tweeted that Trump is a "piece of shit."

Chansley's largely fact- and evidence-free legal complaint underscores just how poisoned many Jan. 6 insurrectionists were by conspiracy theories that many figures on the right, including Trump, were happy to commandeer for their own political purposes. Chansley's lawsuit touches on several such conspiracies — beliefs about sex predators hiding in plain sight, claims about Israel's control over the U.S., alternative explanations for the COVID-19 pandemic.

Many far-right Republicans have given those claims oxygen when they wanted to rile up a polarized base. Trump's pardons of Jan. 6 rioters fit that theme. Closer to home, it was only last year that then-Arizona state Sen. Anthony Kern — known for his own wild beliefs — invited Chansley to be his guest at the Arizona Capitol.

The problem with catering to conspiracy theorists, though, is that you can't actually give them what they want. After all, their beliefs are largely divorced from real life. (Or, in the case when they actually may be on to something, because your name might be in the Epstein files.) At some point, you lose them.

So while Chansley's lawsuit may be full of wild claims, it has one thing going for it: It's hard to blame him for feeling used.