Eyes Right!

It is said that "to understand it, is to be liberated from it" those old assumptions buried deep inside the Self. Searching, seeking, and questing that which you have neglected, the environment that spawns the self. Yes, understand how others approached it. "It's its it" is one of my favorite word strings. I say that because you have to put a value on the unknown. It is the pronoun of the unknown meaning; it is the absence of knowledge. So your journey is through the eye's of another. By doing so, you take the Bandura approach, vicarious learning through conversation with others- observing their experiences as they too are part of the mosaic of life, giving meaning to life and others. What I mean to say is surrender to that which is not part of you, that which functions to benefit the others. It always can benefit you as well as society; the two -you and society- are not mutually exclusive. You are dependent on the group as the group is dependent on you. Symbiotic. The problem is -how do you treat the toxic waste -the felon which the group created. The answer is very simple: Unionize their interest and give them political value. Create the function of X; employment is the key component missing for the reintegration of a member of the group.  For example, a group of young man passed me by and as they did their leader's command was eyes right; each member of the group turned their eyes away from me; they did this on a narrow walk way as if it did not matter because I am a felon. This is the Citadel's way of holding the line of perjury that permeates my trial. I'm a "political" prisoner because it suites the system; it owes for the favors it asked from others in the past. The Governor of NM simply called in a favor from the Governor of SC. Because; it was the Governor of NM that wanted me out of the state. If my enemy can get the Citadel to pull -eyes right, than please tell me how it is not political? The Citadel is Military; therefore, Government.
   

Memories: neighbors from yesterday's fantacy.

What happened to the quiet? It left when the guest came in. I think this situation is the sandwich of life; I think that I really only want a bit of the sandwich. All I can say is that life is a high maintenance sandwich; you probably know that, right. So, what is the problem?  Well, before I went to prison, my theme was "May Yesterday's Dream Be Tomorrow's Memory." Now there is no dream. There is only being a felon. Slave to the powers that enslave.  Except, I did have fun yesterday. I'm walking through the neighborhood and my neighbor asked me, "Where have you been?" Well, that started me on remembering all the westerns I watched on TV when I was a young boy.  This is how I described  the park I had been in, the Joshua Tree National Park, while enjoying rock climbing.  I felt as if I were one of those cowboys in the movies. SO, I asked my neighbor to remember when he too watched those westerns, and he did. I told him that the western screen looks just like the park with all of those wonderful rock formations some as high as a mountain.  Well that led to one of the all time high's from those day's. Everyone likes the movie "Some Like it Hot" and remembers that scene where Marilyn walks on top of the subway vent and the wind blows up through the subway's vent sending her skirt up in the air as she valiantly tries to hold on to her vanity.  Well like every other boy my age, I wish I could have caught the site of her panties. My neighbor agreed with me; he too wanted to see Marilyn's panties. Well, I told  him that 29 Palms was only 60 minutes from Palm Springs, by car. And right in the middle of their town square, there is a 30 to 40 foot statue of Marilyn Monroe in her iconic pose, holding down her skirt while the vent is blowing up air form the passing train running under the streets. And I did look up as I stood under neath the statue of Marilyn and I saw her panties. I was a kid again just like in the Joshua national park on a "horse with no name." I was the western movie.

The massage is the message. How do you like your chicken cooked, Chicken?

OK! The House of Cards is an enchanting story of the truth. Now, what the truth is all about is all together another issue. When describing the relations between the actors, meaning the position they hold because of the job that they have, is a true reality for the consumer to consume. Because of this, I question the message. I do this because the system is not really a fluid movement. Think the world stage; it's Putin of Russia on top of the hegemony movement forming over the renaissance coming out of the old communist ideology. There is talk today about dividing California up into six separate states. So when the system portrays its self in such a ruthless manner it is being done to condition its population to new horizons of servitude. Yes, I say this because it is the TV set or a fact similarly which molds our behavior. It worked so well on the English that it was imported to the US. That's right. The House Of Cards, like the war movie that our fathers consoled around, let us know what has to happen for our own good. Welcome to the world of becoming a felon because there is no way to fight the system and survive meaning that you want to have a consequential life. Being that you realize that God is just another one of the TV programs produced some two thousands years ago and is still showing on old Broadway, as they say. For example, people are killing each other in this new renaissance forming under Putin and others like him fighting for their hegemony, as they tear at the old carcass of the Soviet Union and its environs. There is no meaning to good vs. evil; it is about obtaining control over the zero sum score board.Think about it this way: the population is spending their money on "pot" and the dollar shift is being affected across all lines. Therefore there needs to be a tax to control the movement of "pot."  Some think that six is the right number.

"Me-too" :-) ...victim of Hugo.

Every once and a while, I have a funny moment. I was thinking about jury/audience relationship, mental masturbation. What are their responsibilities? The jury says that they are free from prejudice; the audiences says they have suspended their disbelief. To me they are on parallel tracks moderated by directional forces from back door prejudices. For example, look no closer than your TV;  it is all there -The Good Wife- based upon the adversarial model: rogue prosecutor vs affordability of defense; than they agree to disagree and proceed to act out their respective arguments to their charge, the Judge. Those who are responsible to be critics for the day listen attentively, jury or audience. In my case the last thing the jury heard from the prosecutor was: "He is a time share sales man, what chance did she have!" Her body language was as if she were justice herself telling them to convict on conjecture because God wanted it that way. She presented on evidence to corroborate the verdict other than that I was a time share salesman and therefore I should be guilty and sent off to prison with the label of baby-raper; therefore, I should be raped freely by other inmates. My jury were scavengers from the wrath which reeked havoc upon them by the storm known as Hugo. They could crucify me because, like the Romans who crucified Jesus, they could. These members of the jury were not citizens in action, but Christian wrath based upon prejudices only understood by vengeful people wishing to condemn someone because they are hurting from Hugo's effect. 
    

Mask..."should" it fit anyone?

Stone, that is right, I'm inside of a rock formation in the Joshua Tree Park in California. Yes, it could be used as the metaphor for the Iron Mask from the past generations. Keeping self-locked up inside of self, knowing that it will stunt growth. For example, the generic felon who has to stay put because he is lucky to be working, plus health insurance, yet working three jobs. Afraid to move on because the system makes it very difficult for the felon to borrow monies to participate in a more entrepreneurial environment instead of their present circumstances. What is wrong with this picture? Could you live inside of this and still think that you could relate to what others relate too? The felon needs to be free to participate so that the brain can attenuate the environment. Please remember one thing, before a felon became a felon, a felon was one of society's children. So to free that felon from the old assumptions which caused the crime, well than the felon needs to discern previously unseen patterns, finding some assurance of stability, from stability to understanding. But the problem is that the system is not geared to allow the felons their 14th admendment rights. Now if you want to crack open the mask than educate the children from the felon's family and community; it is through education, coupled with opportunity, that the mask will eventually crumble and fall. Always remember, the first step "could" be joining theblackmarket.me and be counted because there is a heart inside of that cave too.
       

Dollars ...pleasure.

Employment is, and has always been, the crux of the problem. This is the way the system works: If a license is needed, than you cannot get employed if you are a felon. OK; there are always exceptions to the rule of thumb. For example, it is thumbs up if you are clean, thumbs down if you are a dirty, felon. But for sure, there will always be an employment situation in the felon's life; therefore, the families involved with the felon will be affected because when one is out of work their environment suffers and all those in that environment are affected as well. Plus, the system is shifting from a diminished middle class backward in time to when the system was -upper class and lower class. Meaning that the system is leaning into a zero sum format, self best interest without reservation. Consequently, think union for employment and join with theblackmarket.me and fight for equality under the 14th amendment. It will never happen without the numbers and you are the number so be counted. It's the construct that matters; unionization is a construct. The only representation there is for a felon is self representation by being one among others. So to dream while "walking without feet, flying without wings, and thinking without mind." I too will sail the ocean's blues.
   

Craig's list junkie....

It is where I pretend "to be or not to be," as they say. Depending on which side of the bed I'm on, I could be as I wish to be for that moment. Titillating is the way that I feel about it; it is all about being who I need to be moment to moment to fertilize my imagination.  For me, it is all about mental health. I was mentally molested in prison. Prison is a mind altering experience because it challenges the brain's way of maintaining a balanced position. Prison challenged my sense of security because I was seen as a commodity; everything in prison has a sexual connotation. For example, the 'icicle garden' is made up of actors who prey upon one another because that is all they have. The felon has to find his niche in the joint; this means forming bonds around others who have only their own best interest at heart- if there is such a thing as compassion in prison, well maybe amongst the he/she and or gender benders. Other than that, in prison you cannot depend upon anyone other than self. It is not like Venice Beach where you have an indoor as well as an open stage for the freaks to show off  their unique characteristics; I just love Venice Beach and its boardwalk; you know what I mean?
       

..."tip toeing through the tulips with me"....

What do you know about Little Red Riding Hood? I'm sure you remember her from the days of your childhood. She was being trapped by the big bad wolf; the trap was set to go off at her grandmother's house; it was the woodsman who saved her from the wolf. He too had a disguise to fool the wolf. Coming on the scene dressed as a he/she confusing the beastly wolf and saving the sweet little red riding hood ridding her of the perils from the wolf's lair. Now, do not fret, I met the wolf on the boardwalk at Venice Beach, and he is well. He cut a deal with the woodsman so that he had visitation rights with little red. They meet for tea at grandmother's house. It is sort of like a plea bargain and a probation with the rogue who watches over the forest, where grandmother lives.Yes, grandmother's house is protected from the wolves of the world; he is nestled behind the sparkling razor wire which runs the perimeter of her world. PS: Grandmother's tulips are all plastic, so if you visit please bring the real thing, not plastic.

Toes: To our easy side!

The system wants to keep you in the dumb downed state; this is why the system has hooked you on the TV. For you, the generalized other, it's all about vicarious learning; false association with your pleasure zones. The ideation of the idea is for you to think that it's real for you, appeasing your need for the solipsistic taste of reality. For example, hooking up your computers with spy-software, so that it can cannibalize it and harvest its data. Not just your computer, every one coming together as a pod. Think about what the N.S.A. put together to garnish all of an individual's privacy. Everything about the system is cloaked in subliminal tones. The system's inertia is fed moment to moment with the bones of another citizen as the system sees fit; it's the nature of the beast. The system is shitting out so many felons that they are being looked at as a voting block to be controlled by appeasing their right to vote. The problem is that the right to vote today is not based upon what is good for the citizen but what is good for the system. This is why theblackmarket.me is forming a union of felons to protect their right's to be equal under the 14th amendment to the constitution on the United States of America.

  

YES! Your Easy Side....

So how do you like the freedom of being in the raw of nature with the gross potential of finding yourself in the stone menagerie? Now, what do I mean by this? Maybe, I am referring to the silly little waif of a Governor who wants to put you in the 'Icicle Garden' for forgetting that you are packing heat and drinking the Southern Elixir of your choice. For example, you are floating along the streets of Charleston going from one juice joint to another, getting smashed and forgetting that you are carrying heat. Along comes the stone wall of your creativity, and you react because you misunderstood the meaning of the visual confronting you. What you perceive as flesh is in fact cold stone. You expose the heat that you are carrying around with you and fire because "any port in a storm" will do when you are in a port town like Charleston, SC. OK! So, in your juiced up state of creativity, you are in the old west battling the truth of the "gun fight at the OK corral." When the dust settles, you realize that the windows of your outhouse were but the dirty thought that society swept under the rug of reality leaving you to battle the sexual persecution of the "Icicle Garden."

Where are the 'good old days'?

I'm on the boardwalk in Venice Beach; it's on the Pacific side of the U.S. The boardwalk is real and they are where they want to be. That is to say: the boardwalk is the stage upon which the characters unfurl their energy. So much to live for, yet "things, they are changing." The last thirty years were corrosive because the system keeps adding on time for every possible wrong doing committed by its citizens. But, never does the system and its supporters get caught up in the quagmire. Who gets caught up in this quagmire?
The generic felon- that is who gets caught up in  the system. Then the system makes it more difficult to fend for yourself because it restricts the felon's ability to earn a living; this has consequences because it places the felon in a situation where all of their choices could be illegal. That is because the jobs are a reward for those who in society conform to the will of the system. What used to be the middle class is now being weeded out into the felon class; for example, in the world of medical marihuana, the federal government is taking away the banking rights of those people who function in that eCommerce. This is setting up situations where a citizen will become a felon because of how their business functioned. The fastest growing minority in the U.S. is the generic felon. The system is even going after the white-collar citizen; because it can. If the rogue prosecutor can go after the "money changers," they can grind you up into little pieces and not feel the pain because the prosecutor can live with the consequences; can you. Remember: You are collateral damage because it is you who the system feeds on.        

Winning... window...Whatever..of life.

What is justice? What is legal? The pardon, like the papal bull, depends upon if you pay for it before the sin or after the sin. Who is looking in or out of the window's metaphor because the rogue prosecutor will do whatever it takes to win. For example, my prosecutor brought me before the judge with my genitals hanging out. What was that? Was it legal or just; or was it something else, like corruption? As far as the system was concerned, legal and justice have nothing to do with my legal representation. So after being kidnapped from my civil rights -the 14th amendment of the Constitution of the United States- my family offered ten thousand dollars to see if an education package could influence its verdict. The prosecutor said thirty years. The public defender's office suggested to me that I should get Senator Long to take my defense for the ten thousand dollars, the same Bud Long from the "lost trust" scandal. This is an example of the system in action, setting up the defense because it is political, and according to the verdict on my pardon, it too was political. The winning hand is always with the prosecutor because the system is based upon the plea bargaining system; the only time you go to court is when the rogue is around. The gun clinger from the west of yesteryear.  

"reality" play

You go through this thing in mitosis called "cross over;" which means that the alleles of your parents crossed over and became you. If you are male, this means that you are 23 and all shriveled up. But the female gets the pick of the litter; she gets the update because she is double 'X' and intellect does not run on the 'Y,' only on the 'X.' This means that when she is being formed and in "cross over" she is getting the best "of all possible worlds"; she comes in with the update. For example, think about getting the update on your computer program. She gets it; he does not. And, what does this mean? Well, if you are approaching from a singular male construct, "my way or the highway," it could be the parable to distraction. Remember: "Hold your friends close, but your enemies closer," The Don gave good advice. So, the reason I bring this up is because I was once in a relationship with a friend who was double XX. Our argument  was always over the abstract characteristics between "could" or "should." Meaning, anytime I said to Victoria, "you 'should' do...; she would go ballistic. Nobody was going to tell her what to do. Offer advice in the form of 'could' when referring to another in speech. To me, she had manifested an XY stage to perform on. She had such commitment to how she is perceived. Maybe she is a she/he. 

...Good to go.

I'm on the "Horse with no name;" I'm in the Mohave desert, 29 Palms. It is drawing me into its wonder. This is why I'm on a "Horse with no name." I'm just trotting along with the Joshua tree inhaling the herb-of-the-day and along comes nature in her most magnificence, wearing her boulders about as the queens of the day wear their bobbles of wealth. Think all the kink that you wish to think; I'm with you all the way. When you are on a "horse with no name," there is room about for all to play. Have your creative way about how you wish to face the day; Nature wants you to free its creativity laying within your reach. This is done by being yourself, free from the prejudices acquired through life's experiences. Leave life's jalopy at the threshold and get on the "horse with no name."       

Revenge ...power over money.

We are from different places, with different customs; it is in these differences that we allow tolerance. So, listen without filtering through past assumptions for, as they say in symbolic logic, using an "assumption to affirm the antecedent, is a "fallacy" of thought. I'm in the first row, second seat on the right hand side of the room, facing the TV. Just me, I'm alone in the room. Along comes this young guy from Texas. He sits down directly to my left; I'm the prison tutor so he had been visiting my room for help; I did not think anything about it. There are two in the room now; in walks "Hatchet." He sits down directly on my right. I'm in "play" as they say. The kid was telling "Hatch" that he was my bitch now;  he did not have to be his bitch to whore out anymore. Now, the reason I'm telling you this is because the kid made up the story. Also, "Hatch" is the enforcer behind the "Dull Lyre," the prison's cartel. This is brain rape, if you ask me. Hatch has been selling the kid's ass because he can make him up to be very he/she. Cute little white thing to play with and some of those who would play with him played rough. Hatchet had on his military attire, brogans, etc. I know I'm in trouble; I'm frozen in place; the wrong move and he will kill me. Not one word spoken. His left arm resting on the back of my chair for support -while in the sitting position, he kicks the kid in the chest with his right brogan foot. I could feel the power of his knee as it grazed my chest. I could see the tears rolling down his cheeks. I'm frozen in place. Hatch puts me in check, hoping that I will defend the kid so that he can kill me. I never moved a muscle; I let time pass; I'm not sure how long; it seemed an eternity. I got up and walked away; I never said a word. I did not look back; I died another death for that kid because several of "Hatch's" friends settled the matter with the kid. He became their sperm bank. Let me enlighten you: according to K. Menniger's, "Man against himself, "it's a black man's duty to make a white man his wife."And why is this? It is because he has been a slave to his "position"; this is my Southern dig; the southern mind set values "position" with in its framework over the validity of its position; this is the top-down power play, revenge. It's a Southern thing. This is why you need to or 'could' foster awareness of the opposite position, the other person. Remembering: very few have had your opportunities, or maybe not. Maybe it is you who lack the essential skills to facilitate understanding, like socialization? When looking in the mirror do you see an old jalopy trucking down the road too?

Spying the coyote

She feeds the raven and the coyote from her mobile chair; crippled from life's wear and tear, she is still a presence.  Watching from my safe perch, the coyote walks away from the table she offered this day. Camera ready, I catch a glimpse of movement between the desert's scrub and snap a picture to remember my stay. But, such a sly way the coyote has of keeping the sun to his back and in my camera's way. I try to follow his movement through the scrub brush to catch him in my lens. There in the center of this moment he stands and looks my way as I snap the shutter of my camera catching his image; as the ravens hackle over her offerings this day.   

Mojave's offering

As they say "the time they are changing:" I'm in the Mohave desert with its unique way of show- casing nature's diversity. The sun shining down upon earth's surface with the heaven's blue sky to comfort and cradle each step through the morning's gift of fare. But, it's January's reign so the desert's flowers are not visiting with me today; they will show their colors with the spring's rain. For today it's the earthy swath of scrub brush flushing up to the rocky apron in nature's surround. The coyote's scat turning brown to silver gray over time saying this is my land; you are but a moment in my time. Now, the cactus speaks to say, "make room for me or I'll prickle you with my spine of needles, sharp to the touch, just ask Jinny how it felt when it penetrated her heal." Yes, "when you see me, just step aside or my spine of needles will shred you from side to side." The sidewinder will rattle its shake of yesterday's discarded shin to warn you off; this is not my way, I'm the scorpion; I'll sting anyway.