Wednesday, April 30, 2014
So, I'm in the 'joint' one day preparing to get out when one of the inmates walked up to me and said that there was a friend of his, from the outside, who wanted to get in touch with me.I was thinking I really do not know what this is all about; but what ever it is, I do not want any part of this. Needless to say, I chose to meet with the guy. He was a scribe for the shiners, a social calling. I spoke with Mr. C., the school principal, about it; he too was on the negative side of meeting. This guy Timmy was interviewing the inmates that he visited because he was on a mission to find and help out an innocent inmate upon the inmate's release. He had been doing it for quite some time. But the system did not trust him. Meaning, they did not understand this journey that he was on, trying to find a innocent man. He felt that it was his Christian duty to do penance and be apart of the solution. What can I say? The reason he came to that conclusion was a surprise to me. The inmates come from the community at large. They all gossip. They also run the prisoners. Meaning, there is an inmate hierarchy; it runs the "icicle garden."The system is into disciplining the inmates; it does not care if the inmates dine on each other. You can take that which ever way that want -up the ass if it suits you. You see, I was a Cookie Crumb, one of Mr. C.'s inmate workers. I could go anywhere in the prison; so, as far as the inmates were concerned; I had a position -that Southern thing again. They wanted to control me so that I would be a courier for their drugs. Now to me, it was to much of a slippery slope. So, I got into a fight with the warden, and in front of his guards, I through down the gantlet. Well this spread through out the prison. As in the best of all worlds, my reputation was indelibly etched in every ones mind, that mother fucker is Crazy. But, in reality, it the warden who won the toss of the gantlet. He just gave me this fucking look and told me to "get along little doggie,"my ad lib. He knew that I was a Cookie Crumb; he respected Mr. C. What else can I say about the warden's actions at that moment. But, at this moment, I'm not going to get into the story behind my actions. For, you see, this is about Timmy and not me. One of the stories floating around Orangeburg was coming out of the malls. Some guy was boasting about the fact that it was he who had what some call date -raped with her; she saw nailing me for it, another Urban legend out of the Orangeburg mall. Timmy also heard from the inmate rummer mill that I was down for political reasons.The elites of SC putting me down because of my actions in Myrtle Beach, SC. For example, the reason that I was denied even a pardon, never mind the turning over my conviction, was all political. Timmy was convinced, and I got the vacation on Folly Beach, SC, when I got out. I also got my first and only job since my release from the "icicle garden." Until next time, e-me if you wish 'the rest of the story."
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Monday, April 28, 2014
Sunday, April 27, 2014
If you would imagine a window that is divided up into four equal sections. The top part is north; the bottom part is south; the right side is east; the left side is west - this I'm calling a paradigm: "the window pain theory."Just a tool, a way to observe a situation. Let us look at the two-state solution between the north and the south after the civil war; its cauldron of reconstruction politics. We can see many scenarios in hindsight, granting our wisdom with 20/20 vision. And for sure, it is still a work in process. OK, that took care of the top and bottom of the window. Now the east with its WASP sense of balance which no one other than a WASP can discern - projecting its baggage of Victorian morality inculcated while coming over on the Mayflower, buffering the protestant reformation. Juxtapose that to the west and its liberal undercurrent of "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas"; there is no need for a confession. But still the WASP will visit his friends from out west and taste their sins, then run home and witness to the congregation that the Devil is alive an well out west, just proselytizing their souls. Now let us think about the probability of the Jewish dilemma being successful on its maiden voyage. Let us Mayflower it. What is the Jewish dilemma? It is the question of the two-state solution, Israel & Palestine. Now hit on this metaphor if you will. Israel is resting at the train station waiting for God to get off, and by the way, the Jews have never left the station because God has not gotten off the train yet because the train has not arrived. Juxtapose this to Palestine; think tourism. Because the Palestinians believe that God got off of the train at their train station and God is not getting back on the train heading to the other side. So, let us go back to "the window pane theory"; using the US experience, its parable to process the dilemma. The Jewish dilemma sits right in the middle of the window where the four pains meet. Which one of the two choices will unfurl without a snag? Will you choose the north/south scenario, racial integration and its success as your model? Or will you choose the east/west scenario of combating sin? I personally believe that it is impossible to believe that probability could ever be on the side of a two-state solution. But the Middle East as a functioning whole could be the one state with a compass that can discern the sifting sands of history; creating its altered sense of secularization might have a chance if and only if God get back on the train heading for a much needed rest, like visiting with Napoleon on Crete. He did have the good luck of acquiring the Rosetta stone, the compass of his time.
Saturday, April 26, 2014
I do hate to admit that it seems to me that all the problems in the system of today's governance is spinning around the Maypole of religion. Yes, it seems to me that once you decided that your god -the god of gods- is the true and ever lasting source of enlightenment; therefore, every one else had to prostate to your sense of sensibility. I say remember the inquisition, its tone of self righteous dribble that stained the minds of reason. And by the way it also did stain the fabric of social intercourse to the extent that it is unthinkable to use the term intercourse in any throughway other than the dirty deed of fucking which you just will not take responsibility for. No, your bet is on the myth of heaven and therefore you want to waste your moment and the moments of others with the rubbish of redemption. So, let me offer up another side bar to consider: It is all about giving your brain the opportunity of moving beyond the small family of prejudice that spawns such superstitious trash. Yes, try and recycle those experiences of youth into some thing other than your juvenile assumptions hiding in the dust bolls under your bed. I say stop masturbation and star copulating so that you can come to grips with the pleasure of your mind 's fertile imagination.
Friday, April 25, 2014
Thursday, April 24, 2014
The only tenderness in my life came from the streets. My environment was brutal; my streets lied to me and some said they loved me. It was a sexual revolution fostered and parented out of WWII. They came back from the war liberated in victory. The G.I. bill was their ticket to ride. Life in the streets was robust to say the least. For me it began in the barber shop where my grandfather worked. He was one of those who missed the revolution. One day walking home from work with a six pack under his arm, he dropped dead just as he was turning the corner onto his own street. He lived just two houses down on the right hand side of the street; I lived on the corner where he died. Life went out to those ones who wanted it. That was a bad corner after that for me because they beat me up emotionally in my house -some kissed me on the street- others abused me. But, my favorite ones informed me, educated me on how to be a critical thinker on a confused stage leaving many failures along the way. I'm old now so things are different because I process like a book -keeper, not like a gate -keeper. Maybe it would help to understand the difference between the two points of view by looking at what the South thinks about their 'position;' Fascist in nature comes to mind. Some say that it's Southern arrogance based upon the second child syndrome. No, I'm from the East where the only thing that counts is the deal; life is a commodity which needs servicing; you are the force- it is your effect that counts. How effective will you be- that is the question. It's never about your position because everyone knows that a guy with a weak chin also has a beard to mask its perceived lacking. And by the way, I know because I am chinless and lip-less. I never smile because I'm mouth less; but I do laugh on occasion. It is all about being politically, meaning religiously correct. For example, those who were baptized via 'position' are guaranteed access to heaven - remember the Papal Bull. And, oh yes, Saint Francis is back; he is sitting on your assurance of ascendance.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
I like playing around with a word and its sound and meaning. The letters you use to spell out 'time' or 'emit.' These two words have the same letters; it's the interpretation of the letter string or the word and its meanderings, what the letters spell out. The same four letter spell out a different word. Some words sound the same but their letter string is different, like 'herd' or 'heard' which sound the same but have different meanings. 'Herd' is a coming together of the cows; when they do, the only sound that you 'hear' was the sound of the 'herd.' So listen to the sound of the herd and tell me what you hear. For example, the anomaly of the 'd' when ending or finishing the letter string. Do I 'd' or not? Let us ponder the thought. OK? Heard -hear, So, what is this "d" all about? I'm not sure, it could mean "daddy" to some so I'll go along with the flow. For example, the US is in a situation over the billing it made for cattle raising on government land. In this situation the farmer fed his cattle and refused to pay his legal share which was $ 1, 000,000 dollars; he had a 'heard or herd' of cattle. But, he also had a cow mentality. Thinking that he was an individual unto himself, not the state. Now I venture to say that the cow is only a cow when he is being consumed, a piece of meat on someone else's plate. Otherwise, he is a member of the 'heard or herd.' This gathering of people -who feel as he does- are protesting against the government for doing what the government is mandated to do under our system of laws. I also believe that the cows believe that this cause of theirs will manifest its self into a ' herd or heard.' Now this 'herd or heard' is something that I can join. This is my type of cow gathering. Quiet would be nice so that I could hear and discern the merits of the situation. What is the cow listening to 'hear'? Is the individual listening? Also, "d" could stand for 'dilettante.' Sort of how some feel about the merits of God's unfurling. As in, how are things going in their life? To me, the 'dilettante' is a false face on life's potential; they hear it all; just like Putin of Russia, they manipulate their stage to consume. They feed you what they want you to 'hear' so that you graze together as a groupie, herd. So maybe this is what it is all about, you each went to a pile of cow dung an harvested a golden mushroom- happy camping.
When you lose your memories, you lose their tangential affects upon the ability to function as if you had not lost your experiences, memories. Memories are past situations from various encounters with the environment. Now coming into the situation is what it is all about. Being a part of the interaction allows you the opportunity for growth so it is unjust to prosecute when opportunities were denied; there does not seem to be any sportsmanship in that mind set - knowing that there are many cultures mixing in this population, each socializing threw their customs. They may all visualize something different when they hear the sound of a ping. The ping is what I hear when I'm in time -travel. In mind core therapy your visual and auditory senses are stimulated;for example, the head set gives your ear the ping and the goggles give your eyes the flashes of light. The pings and the flashes oscillate and ungulate to a controllable porthole in my mind's eye. Einstein call it the worm holes. How do you listen for the ping? When it comes at you, just maybe you are preoccupied with life's -day to day- to resonate the differences in between the pings. For example, if I may, I would like to connect the movie "planet of the Apes" and its human population of felons being enslaved because they are different from the ruling elite Apes. A military society with a powerful industrial complex geared up on the zero sum game of resources. Sort of like it is in your happy neighborhood. where the felon can not get a job because of the "Scarlet Letter" attached to his presence, to help ward of their evil spirit. The question is how do you communicate your needs to the jokers in charge of the gate -the gate keeper. Maybe upon the joker's reflection, as the old joke goes, there are two kids playing along the river's bank, one Ape kid -one Felon kid, each skimming rocks along the river's surface. Remembrance of reconstruction politics in the early days of the old slaver's mind coming off the civil war between the states. The Apes' rock skimmed out its ping as -chm-pan-zee; the felon's rock skimmed out -do-re-mi. One sounds like it is rap, the other rather classical, i.e, this space in between the rap and classical is the world of cognitive dissonance within and between social levels, classes.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
OK! You piss someone off; it was one of your many unintended consequences leaving someone else to take the fall. So you try to figure things out, but you do not remember the moment in question. It is too late to think anyway. For example, it is a fallacy in logic for you to affirm anything using a given consequence. You cannot use the consequence from some past event to affirm the antecedent of a future event; it is illogical. There is no logic behind spite, though. Spite is seen as something done out of revenge even thought there is a cost for doing so. Because, when you are being spiteful the only think that counts is being on the positive side of zero sum, You accept the taxation for your need, revenge; even if in the future, it comes back to haunt you. Yes, spite is all about mental rape, fucking up their psyche. Spite is all about destroying someone's environment, making someone else squirm in their own deserved cesspool. Spite is the moral high road of the twisted amongst us, using their contrivances about whatever context is at hand. Spite took your actions personally; therefore, there is a penalty to pay. It's spite laying out the punishment for others to carry out. You will hurt; you will know that you were hurt; this is the message of spite. I know that you know what I mean; you have seen others fucked over by the proverbial stranger. It is the conspiracy theory. For example, your secret about being gay is out in the public domain; you do not know who outed you. You are fucked because you lie on your employment contract. Now you are jobless or missed another promotion. Your friend- you fucked his wife without permission- tells the IRS that you have not been paying your taxes on that off shore bank account of yours, a little spite there -don't you think? And this, all because your friend used to be your wife; she knows where all the shit is buried. So much for a three-way bi-way performance.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Friday, April 11, 2014
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Let us talk about my trial. OK. One of the witnesses lied to the jury; she testified to the jury that she met me at the Yachtsman the afternoon in question; she did not because I was with a amateur hooker. She never met me like she testified to in the trial. I remember that day because that afternoon is what this story is all about: this is what I had in my pocket the morning that I went to pick up B.N.: I was going to prepay her the commission she could earn upon completion of any contract for timeshare/whole ownership. I was supposed to pick her up that morning and take her to a resort property on the beach which was under federal receivership. This was the property securing the red trading weeks for sale. But no, she was to busy. She said, "Take my daughter down town to the midway" which I did. Now by chance, this is also where I live, directly across the street from Mother Fletcher's, the great den of sin; this is where I let her (the daughter) out and did not see her the rest of the day. And if my memory does not fail me, her daughter had a reputation of getting in trouble at Mother Fletcher's, on their teen dance day. The proprietor of Bodo's on 8th Avenue North told the daughter to call her mother up on the phone so that they could tell her that if she did not come down and get her daughter right now, they were going to call the police. They did not appreciate her soliciting, her actions, as she was with the tourist. I was not there then; I arrived as she started screaming at her daughter, for the humiliation it was causing her. They -Bodo's- said that she was acting badly and it was their family restaurant. Back to the story: I was going to give her $1000 for her financing. I offered up a little honey since she had told me on many occasions that for her, it was all about the money. And the "Printer," the man in town who owned the printing company had put up the money. He had printed the flyers advertising time shares on the beach, and figured he would get his money back. The flyer was going out on the boxes of Dominoes piazzas being sold in Myrtle Beach. It was the flyer for the East West challenge, my advertising program to help promote timeshare resales along the beach, Myrtle Beach, SC. We would be the cheapest place you could go and buy into the time share fantasy. Anyway that is why I had the $1000 in cash. She never got the chance for the offer because she did not want to take the time; I kept the grand in my pocket. So I know that she perjured herself because I was with a lady of the "time" - "if you have the money honey, I have got the time." She also had party favors; we got down you might say; Why do I remember this? I remember this because I'm a terrible piece of ass unless I'm coked out. She got $500 out of the $1000; I got her and the coke. She came into town to party and have someone else pay for it. She knew how to do this; she had to have the party favors. I bought half of that bag of hers that afternoon and shared it back with her; the best piece of ass, it was marked into my brain. I'll never forget that piece of ass. So, she can not convince me that I was somewhere when I was not; I was not behind the Yachtsman that afternoon. No! She perjured herself out of spite and money; rumor is she was approached by someone who wanted me out of town -a southern sex scandal.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Monday, April 7, 2014
So the Devil said, " It never hurts to stack the deck." And what a deck it is indeed; pick up the paper, any paper professing to be the rag of the day. There you will find out about the bottom line, death or near death on every slice of whatever it is that you slice and dice to cull your share. In the old days you could find a good democracy on board any one of the vessels scavenging off the coast. Yes, that was the pirates' way. Today it is only one of those fleeting fantasies that you out there in blogging land want to hold onto so you too can go to the islands and establish a tax free way of freeing yourself form helping those that are less able to function due to their status or lack of it in this new world order. Give me what I want when I want it; I want it to be tax free because I earned it you see with only a little bit of help from my family. Our way or the highway has been here since the good old days when the family deemed what the good old days were all about, before the dirt under your finger nails started to sprout some form of mischievous idea about equality. Walk the fucking plank if you do not want to sail with me; this is not the good ship 'lolly pop' where you have a say about how things work; I choose the port of call; you tend to the rigging. This is my deck, you see.
Now for the story about teaching inmates how to want to learn when the environment's choices are stunted. We are dealing with roughly 1250(+ or -) inmates who are all in their own orbit moving in and out of a steady diet of mayhem. It's an environment of quicksand; each moment's calamity sucks you deeper into another quagmire vetted with its own unique demons. Now here is the trick: allow the brain to find its image amongst others; this will allow the mind to settle down, allowing the brain to develop a new staged environment in its mind so that the inmate can mature. Teaching the inmate how to be a learner, not a mimicker, will assure him that his brain can come up with a viable solution to life's problems because he can communicate within more than one range and domain - critical think. You do this through stories; stories that are relevant to the inmate; stories that will help the inmate to move more freely around inside his own imagination. The "icicle garden" is very sophisticated, yet at the same time very primal; it all depends on the circumstances, or situations at hand. For example, vocabulary can be a game changer, teaching an inmate that there are words out there that will describe what he is trying to say to himself. This vocabulary will help his mind to be more quiet because it fosters assurance, therefore hope. If you wish to get one of our "social justice" t-shirts "just e-mail us at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
Saturday, April 5, 2014
You are not going to believe this but this is the first time that I lost a blog. Right! It was there and than it was gone! I had a blank page in front of me - this page that I'm writing on now, just a moment ago it was a partially completed blog. I was blogging about the three legs, stools of the system, like the chair metaphor. There was Law, Order and Church each a separate odoriferous force; when all three come down upon you it is pungent to say the least. Yes, the question is how to fight back when their spin is a negative enforcer to foster hate upon yours truly. If they would allow me to publish my side of the story, my situation would surely change for the better- theirs not so well because their stench runs very deep indeed in this particular context. Anyway! When you are a political prisoner -that is me; you are shut off from society's market place; Therefore, you have no income. If the courts will not listen to you, what do you do? I say, "You form a labor union for those felons who have been denied access to the market place of life's dreams." This is a labor issue; there needs to be a union's force -theblackmarket.me- on the table before there will be any attempt at social justice. Now, if I were a union than I could get benefits for my losses do to the need that society has to deny me my rights of equality. Maybe, I should or could get unemployment for life; non-felons get everything, This is the question: Where is their Christian God? Nietzsche said "God is dead." Maybe the problem was in the fact that there was anyone out there in the first place that would even follow along with such a shallow force, as demonstrated through its inaction. Maybe, God never existed: I'm wondering how God will last as the "urban legend."
Friday, April 4, 2014
Hey you, file this under carnal knowledge; That is the way we do it; you do understand that if you do not know what to do with information then you file it under carnal knowledge, right! It is the FUCK file. If you want to "set" someone up -match and set- file it in the FUCK. This story is make believe in Charleston, SC this weekend with the bridge run and so much more. They will gather and pontificate about the idealization of thought, yes their thought, not yours. So enjoy the mass baptism of joy, its the trickle down theory. They will let you come into their environment and breath the same air as they do. Please note: they believe that you are a one night stand. They are the drug of choice, not that nonsense, marihuana. They want to get you drunk on their elixir of the day -menu of the day, not marihuana. The problem with marihuana according to the church and therefore the elites is that it will free you from under their control. Marihuana will allow you to discern previously unseen patterns. freeing you to be who you are. Touching the one you are with while playing around in their sand box; tasting those primal urges of yours as you sizzle in their dinning offerings; tapping along with the beat and rhythms of their sensations; toying as only you can; they offer up to you, Charleston, city of angles, fallen angles and -kiss-en cousins to the hells angles, too; discovering how it is theirs, yet yours alone. Welcome to being one of the elites for the day -suspension of disbelief. What do you say?
It is nothing but a "fucking joke" if you really think that the Supreme Court is working on behalf of you. The 'new world order' is a word string whose subliminal meaning is suffocating society. This is all about power and money: highest and best use of the wiglet, you are the wiglet. You are being fed garbage as if it were to be dined upon; this is all about setting a stage so that the system can "vampire" off you, sucking the life out of you. This is your only chance to see life as if it were worth seeing. You in control of your choices. The problem is quite simple, your choice are not productive; they are unique to you; therefore, jettison that which is yours in favor of the "highest and best use" so that the elites can play. What I do not understand is this: WHY! How does the system justify itself? It does not have to because it is the only system. For example, the system is closing down a Pre-Release center in S.C. - this is where the felon can get a break and a pathway back into society- so that they can buff up on security in the "icicle garden." How about spreading resources around so that each one of us could attain their potential, let me avail myself of the same oxygen that the elites breath. No! The idea of "the new world order" is 'the rich get richer and the poor get poorer" ;that is you. My idea is Social Justice not Supreme Justice. What I do know is this: the more you take away from the majority in favor of the elites, the less justice you will find for the majority. Key to all problems are through its construct: Your construct is the Constitution, its 14th amendment is equality. Do you get the joke?
So today I got my ears clipped. I was in for sensory feedback, inquiring about how I absorb the material so to but me in a better place. So you lay down on a recliner with your knees bent up slightly. There is a computer monitor at the end of the recliner which shows different material like a movie or a puzzle coming together. This is a passive process between the body and the brain; the mind is out in left field. For example, during the movie, the lighting becomes brighter and dimmer on a tangential flow, a confluence of light. That was the easy part because after that it was all about changing my diet. Gluten free. Right! I love to have bran flakes and raisins as a dessert before going to bed. Fuck, what is wrong with it? Bad timing as it is at the end of the day and my body is storing its excess in fat deposits. Than the doc went on to breakfast, questioning the wisdom of oatmeal every morning. From there it was my coffee intake. He wants me to be on the come back trail as a Chippendale dancer. What the hell have I got myself into? And by the way, his recommendation was for me to get it on with a "smoothie." He said she was so cute. She is a "smoothie" made up of a little bit of this and a dash of that.
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
That is when it all started. It was April 1st, 1989 -twenty five years ago today- the joke was on me and it is on you now. But for now, this story is about measuring my dysfunctions so that I can measure my task. Meaning: How much energy am I wasting because of the way that I process my assumptions, based upon my stored memories? It's called Beta Dysregulation. On a scale of (1 to 10 ) I'm a negative 7. Now to get this rating, a cap is placed upon your head and it has nodes that read the energy running through your brain; you store information in different parts of the brain; these brain areas can be read through those nodes. Side bar: I'm going to say it is passive aggressive in nature. Back to the story. All I have to do is become someone else. But, because I spent time in the "icicle Garden" you can assume that my brain was traumatized. This trauma is repressed anger because of the methods imposed upon prison life and their affect upon the felon. And it seems that I'm still in prison: hyperarousal related to anxiety. It is typically a consequence of chronic demand on the central nervous system to respond to fear including events and social distress. Like having a bull's eye on you back because you are on the sex offenders registry; this is where a serial killer "want-to-be" chose to pick his targets from last year in SC. Luckily, he was caught after his first murder. This is what the test said after it read my brain waves; it described prison to a tee.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
When I was in the "icicle garden" getting my brains raped, I met Williams, another inmate. He offered a safe place to hang for a while: the Jaycees. Yes, he was one of the independent variables. Like Thoreau, he marched to his own drummer. He was a felon of circumstances beyond his control; the way he carried himself in the joint said that he did not choose to be a felon. He still is a felon. No question about it. But you eviscerate his potential. He could have been one of society's assets, but instead he is an island unto himself scrapping for ever inch of itch he feels. So, just for laughs, let us pretend that there is a God, OK. Now, those who where prejudiced because it suited their needs will have to answer to why. God wants to know why your redemption is false. Side bar: God put you here, her reasons and your lessons. She said I had a purpose for Williams; why did you deny him. Right! Like does She really exist? F.u.c.k! They have no problem because they know that it was a myth put out and about in its day and it took on a life of its own. Now I know that there aew exceptions to the rule of shunning; it helps to come from the political elite's side of the family. You find them doing Oprah. But not the generic felon like Williams. No, a generic felon walks alone; for your redemption program is too hellish to bear. Remember "Tartuffe." Hey!