issues, which further symbolizes the silence of my days. One is the surround symphony of sounds and the other is my estimated caloric intake over the past twenty days. I continue to lose more weight. I can feel it. I shiver much too much.
The sounds I must confess are unique to my jail world and my sensibilities, try to imagine the following sounds continuing throughout your hours of solitude. There are no melodic rhythms just intermittently the following sounds. Some days one is dominant, often they seem to take turns. First, there is the Tourette syndrome guy yelling bizarre sounds and horror movie laughter at a sound decibel level off of the chart. Then there are two Jamaican characters who are housed very far from each other and yelling some sort of Hatfield-McCoy feud hours and hours at a time. I have no idea what they are saying. It definitely is anger, and when it begins and when it ends is a surprise to the silence of the ward in which I am housed.
Now appears my newest sound, which just arrived. This inmate has obviously beaten the telephone list problem. He spoke loudly and coherently for over 3 hours last night on the phone to a fellow gang member. This language was not as foreign as my Jamaican fighters, and it was at times translatable, "You know what I mean, bro"? The problem with his very loud telephone call was - there was no telephone! He is a pure psychotic imagining and carrying on to no one at all. I know this to be true because, as I said, the guards stand outside his cell laughing like children trying to understand a problem beyond their intellect.
Amidst these symphonic sounds, there is the hysterical "banger". He is the one trying to break down the door throwing whatever is in his room and pounding his fists for actually minutes at a time followed by eerie silence only to begin again. He's not as scary as "the crier" who actually cries at the highest and most piercing pitch moaning like in a horror movie. The surround sound effects are enhanced by the guards trying to ignore all of the above sounds by laughing and playing. These are some of the regular sounds I am exposed to during the evening hours as I try to go to sleep.
Only because my lonely cell is bolted and locked, can I sleep.
Chapter 4 – In Contempt? Or Contemptuous?
So many of these individuals are psychologically damaged and so very ill. It is tragic that this is the rehabilitation solution which best serves our society and them. Fortunately, they have the non-contacting mad-hatter psychologist or my inattentive counselor to guide them through their various issues and to return them to society, improved.
My caloric intake seems like an afterthought to these surround melodies, but during this questionable incarceration, I try to find some other things to report to you.
Although I believe "on paper", (like the legal visiting room availability) they serve an adequate caloric intake for prisoners to maintain their weight, I only eat about 700 to 900 calories per day. Let's once again try to go through a typical day, (estimated of course).
My breakfast has been exactly the same each day - one packet of cereal (90 calories), half-pint of milk (80 calories) and either a tangerine or a slice of some canned fruit (60 calories), Total calories = 230.
My lunch may include potato salad or macaroni salad (inedible because mayonnaise and unsanitary conditions plus heat heighten my fear of getting sick), salad (1/8 cup normally hot - I also pass). That leaves the rice and the vegetable and sometimes mystery meat. Estimated Total Calories = 300.
Dinner is pretty much the same except sometimes I do get a tangerine. My breakfast milk container is my cup for water at lunch and dinner. Estimated Total Calories = 300.
Some of the positive effects of my "visit" to observe the prison system is no snacking, a little more forced reading, more Bridge Solitaire than I'd like to say and more push-ups and sit-ups while I drown out the sounds and the loss of some weight. How much have I lost? I'm on the clinic "list" to be weighed.
As I wait to see if the elevator is "working" today, I know now that it is selectively working "depending” if the guards want to "work" themselves. I hope we can have an investigation just to help those who may never have the opportunity to question this type of power abuse.
Abuse of power by the SEC and one Judge is what placed me in this institution in the first place. I guess it is shortsighted of me to think that the same ethical guidelines in the same Department of Justice wouldn't remain consistent.
My company was attacked ten years before we all read, just recently, about Bear Stearns and our stock financial meltdown caused by what is today called naked short selling. Naked short selling is the counterfeiting of a public security with no intention of ever buying or delivering that stock certificate. Naked short selling results in more shares trading than actually exist or that have been issued by the company. The stock normally devalues and more often than not the company goes out of business. Over six thousand developing companies have failed during the past few years.
Those traders who have sold what they did not own pocket the profit. They do not even have to cover their sale (or produce the certificate) because the company is then out of business. No taxes are paid on the pure profit made by the counterfeiters. Such companies are normally "attacked" as well by vicious lies on the uncensored internet during the process.
We took our case to the Florida courts. Although highly unusual, we were the only American company able to identify some of the crooked counterfeit sellers. We were able to prove the existence of naked short selling to two Florida juries and were awarded approximately $700,000,000 USD for our shareholders. We were finally able to explain why our stock price was decreasing while the company was continuing to grow and improve. More on this to be discussed later, but for now let me continue my prison expose′ while I am being wrongly incarcerated.
As I was watching the steel cell doors close today, I had to think of claustrophobia. How horrible that problem would be for an inmate confined as I and others have been.
Take away my legal visits, my writings, my books, my self-created games and it's easy to understand some of the literary stereotypes of prisoners from Papillion to Shawshank Redemption and to “Escape from Alcatraz”. We really haven't improved the process of rehabilitation and healing. It appears that these are buildings of societal confinement and other forms of socialistic welfare. We justify inconsistent law enforcement, unconstitutional legal court processes and we keep the prisoners in the same type of place as we did in the Eighteenth century.
The constant yelling and bantering during the daytime is more annoying than my evening symphony of psychopaths. Trying to read, pray, concentrate, even exercise is constantly interrupted by the immature "playing", "teasing", "yelling" and childlike bantering which replaces actually working as the guards daily activities. I wonder how long a sensitive, intelligent, caring officer remains that way before they either acquiesce or shut down. It seems to me that the better doctors should be where they are needed most. The better psychiatrists are really not here. I look in the inmates’ and guards’ eyes. The guards are part of that welfare and political patronage cycle of intellectual poverty that we have permitted to exist in our society.
It's been many days and my nails and hair are beginning to make me look like Howard Hughes!
These two grooming services are not permitted without the counselors or a CO presenting a request. You get on the "list". This "list" seems like a "permanent record" in high school. I believed in that high school list - I am having some difficulty believing in these prison "lists".
Some of the guards do nothing and they don't hear, or choose not to hear you screaming at the cell door because that is the only way you may dialogue with them.
Still no first phone call. Today I met, during my post legal visit strip search, a young man who couldn't call anyone to even tell them where
