Fighting Words

Greetings and welcome once again to the Roost.

I would like to begin with a very sincere thank you to Anna for guest-writing a beautiful post about writing to people in prison for you, our readers. (She sent me a hard copy to read.) It was very kind of her indeed.

Also I would like to apologize for my extended hiatus from writing. (Which is only partially due to the incident that will be the main subject of this post.)

Before the following event I was (and still am to a degree) in… shall we say… a dark mood. Several things contributed to this.

One of the big unsettling issues for me is that it seems several posts for the Roost which I have sent to Anna have not made it to her. One is the second half of the last batch of questions I was sent by you all to answer. I didn’t much care for that situation at all, as I do not want any of you to think I just decided to neglect your curiosity. Each and every one of your questions are important to me and I will answer them all (even if it is only to tell you I am not comfortable answering a particular question, which rarely happens but is not outside the realm of possibilities) and as soon as I get a letter from Anna telling me which answers were… lost… I will finish answering them for you.

Now it is always possible that a letter can get lost in the mail, but the second post that did not make it… well that is a different issue. It would seem Anna got the letter I sent with it, along with some artwork, but the post I wrote was missing from the envelope. This upset me deeply and I had several prison personnel involved in this issue. I was of course told it was not them (that they have removed nothing) and if there was “an issue”, they would have kept the letter, post, and envelope in its entirety. (Which, I must admit, is what they do.) But “the jury is still out” on me being convinced. There simply must be an explanation for the occurrence.

But knowledge of these things happened recently and I am still in the decision process concerning what is to be done about them.

My “dark mood” has other, older contributing factors, mostly personal, this place can simply “wear on” a person in many ways. I just let it get to me. It can happen when the things one has to do are so limited, it can be difficult to get beyond this place when there is nothing to focus on beyond “the cage”. My access to the outside world is very limited. But these are issues that are mine and I will keep them. I seem destined to deal with them on my own.

Now on to recent events that my participating in, and actions concerning, were beyond my control and choice due to the environment that has been created for me to survive in…

“The great epochs of our life are at the points when we gain the courage to re-baptize our badness as the best of us.” –F. W. Nietzsche

Boy, does this place give me opportunity far and wide to indulge in that!

I must be honest and state that Nietzsche did not have a situation like mine in mind when he wrote that…but it does fit. I live in an environment chock-full of bad people full of “evil intent” — and no, I do not separate myself from that description. I would not be subject to such an environment if I were not deemed bad and/or “evil” by society’s standards.

(You may notice that I put “evil” in quotation marks there– I do the same with “good” when I ascribe them to behavioral issues. I find it troublesome defining them in those situations. They are… situationally arbitrary.)

But delving into the behavioral concepts of “good” and “evil” are not the subject matter of this post. And I will leave it up to you, good reader, to put whatever label you see fit on the following occurrence. My aim is simply to give you a glimpse into the world that is death row. Your judgement– on it, on me, and on my actions– are yours.

At least some of you may remember my mentioning a “close-custody experiment” the prison was being forced into due to litigation. Well, last month, in their infinite stupidity, prison personnel told me to “roll up!” (that is “pack your shit” in prison lingo) as I was to be moved to central unit to participate in the experiment. (I was one of three people in general population to be included– the others were to be left behind.)

I suppose for this to make sense, I need to explain what “general population” is in prison terms. General population is a population of prisoners that have no crimes involving sexual violence, no crimes involving children in any way, and no history of snitching (informing) on anyone involved in criminal activity, and no history of dealing cordially with any of the above three types of people. In short, a member of the general population could be released into any prison yard (not containing those three types of people or their sympathizers) and be expected to get along without incident.

On the other hand, the aforementioned three groups of people (and those who choose to be involved with them), if they were to be released into an open prison yard, would suffer severe consequences.

At this point, I need to take care in what I relate to you, and even how I relate it, as it is easy to enter into the realm of snitching. (Which I do not do, even on prison personnel.) But it is rather difficult to believe that prison personnel, at some level, did not realize what was being done in putting three general population inmates into a situation in which they were literally surrounded by (and far outnumbered by!) sex offenders, child molesters, child killers, snitches, and their close personal friends.

Yup– they did not separate the populations as is done in every other environment in this system! If they had moved all of general population, at least we could have made an environment for ourselves in which we were insular from the issue at hand if we so chose, but we were not afforded that opportunity… three among sixty or seventy… that is what we were given…

I attempt here not to justify anything== in the world made for me to survive in, “justification” is a sketchy concept on the best of days. And certain behavior is not only expected of an individual, but demanded without any excuse accepted. Certain behaviors must be adhered to or one can find oneself neck-deep in a pile of doo-doo with no way out…and the rules apply to everyone! (See above regarding what happens when one is branded a sympathizer with certain elements.)

Just about twenty-four hours after my arrival at central unit (CBS) I was charged with a “2B Felony Violation– Assault on Multiple Inmates.” (And subsequently found guilty of it– don’t you just hate cameras?!) This assault insisted of me beating the holy crap out of an individual who is here because he sexually tortured and then killed a woman…and then beating the crap out of another inmate who thought it was a good idea to jump in and defend this first piece of crap! (For the record, the first “target”– the rapist– is about twenty years my junior and should be perfectly well capable of defending himself. His “protector” was about my age or perhaps a little younger.)

For the record, no, I do not feel bad about what happened. I find the existence of an individual who did what was done by the first person to be loathsome in the extreme (when I used the words “sexually torture” I meant it literally. I will spare you all, and Anna, the details, but what he did was… I have trouble coming up with a word horrendous enough to fit. But to give you an idea, when arrested he was found to still have… nope, I won’t go into it. It upsets me even to consider it.) I feel no remorse at all for the person assaulted, or the one who decided to jump in and defend him. If that makes me a monster in the eyes of some, then so be it.

I am now on the “F-You Tour” of prison life. I spent about a week (or was it a bit longer?) at CB-6. (the maximum security unit at Central) so it could be decided what to do with me—and in the meantime, no shower, no property, no mail, no nothin’ over there! — and apparently they decided that they did not want me, and I was moved not only back to Browning/SMU II, but right back to the very same cell I was taken out of in the first place: G-14! So now I await for them to finish breaking, taking, “losing” my property and bring that back to me. I have been able to get a little bit… but not actually what I need.

I asked for a bag that contained nothing but my clothes, my sheets (I sleep on only a blanket since that is all I have right now), and shoes in it…also, I asked for a cup out of another box to drink from. (I drank out of half-pint milk cartons I get in the morning and wash out and save…also, I have only the set of clothes I have been wearing for a week or more at Central Unit… well, one of the floor cops sees and understands the situation, goes to Property Storage… and comes back with a plastic bag and says “This is all they will give me!”

In this bag were three pairs of boxer shorts, a pair of sweatpants (it’s August in Arizona!) and a bar of soap…all of use to me… but still I cannot leave my cage if I am washing my shirt, and I only have the one pair of socks as well.

And the milk cartons… I’ve been drinking out of those for weeks now.  (They only last so long before they spring a leak and I have to replace them.)

People around me have given me things to read, but with nothing else to distract myself they don’t last long. I can read a four-hundred page novel by lunchtime if I don’t put t down and do something else. I am meditating a lot…reflecting…spending time inside my own mind (not a place for the faint of heart, I can tell you!) doing some tune-up work on me.

In case anyone is interested, no, I did not sustain any real injury in the incident. (I jammed or perhaps otherwise injured my right wrist but I am pretty sure that occurred from me beating on others.) I did get pepper sprayed, then tazed when the the pepper spray did not really affect me. (It did after the adrenaline wore off! That new stuff is potent!) The taser probes were pulled out at the scene and I was stuck in a very hot shower. (Hot water and pepper spray don’t really like each other all that much) to wash off the pepper spray residue (I was, of course, still chained) but otherwise refused any treatment and was eventually taken back to my cell to await transport (to CB-6 to begin the F-You Tour.) Yes, I did get an opportunity to wash up better and put on clean dry clothes before they came and got me and my stuff (which means my wet clothes went in a plastic bag and I can’t imagine what shape it will be in when I get it back…maybe the pepper spray will keep the bugs out and slow down mold growth? Hey, I can hope!)

So that is where I have been… for a time anyway. I hope to be able to start posting on a more regular schedule again now. (Rest assured, you will have another post coming on the state of my property when you get it back… I expect to be pissed!) But until then, I am writing on borrowed paper, with a borrowed pen, and sending this to Anna with borrowed stamps I am not sure how I can pay back… (sigh, such is my life!)

For now, dear readers, you all take care… and please remember thank Anna, without whom you could not be reading this right now. She is a dear friend and a very kind person.

 

 

Ask Tod Anything: Part VII

[Part I II III IV V VI]

Greetings, and welcome once again again to the Roost, where my memories and thoughts take flight over the earth via internet.

First, I would like to apologize for the “tone” of my last post. Thinking about that particular subject (the system through which a supposedly forward-thinking nation of people ritualistically murders a select few individuals using its local governments) tends to piss me off as I am intimately aware of the corruption and unpredictable nature of the system that is in charge of it. So I can get as ridiculous as it is when I consider it– but this post is all about answering readers’ questions. So let me see about doing that. I will just jump right in.

33.) What is it like to be pepper sprayed or tear gassed?

First, I am not aware of any place in the U.S. that uses tear gas anymore. Tear gas is a chemical agent that can cause lasting respiratory issues.

That being said, I have been tear gassed and it is unpleasant. It causes a burning sensation in the lungs, eyes, and sinuses. This, in turn, ramps up production of mucous in the lungs and sinus cavities that can cause a sensation of almost drowning. There is no remedy (that has ever been used on me anyway) to alleviate the effect and it simply has to wear off.

Pepper spray is likewise unpleasant. It too causes a burning sensation in the lungs, eyes, and sinuses. This, however, can be at least partially mitigated by placing a very wet washcloth over the mouth and nose, and breathing only through the nose. (If the capsacin hits the soft palate, there is no controlling the reaction.) The pepper spray causes mucous production in the sinuses to go out, which results in… well, snot, and a lot of it. But the mucous production in the lungs does not increase, hence the lack of drowning/smothering sensation, unlike tear gas.

Both are effective for controlling behavior but a tolerance can be built up over time to pepper spray. Although there is a new generation now that if might be difficult to do that with.

34.) What do handcuffs feel like? Why, in the movies (and maybe also in real life?) do people always rub their wrists when they’re un-handcuffed– is that an automatic reaction or is it because your wrists get sweaty, or because they hurt, or some other reason?

Handcuffs feel very restraining, like you’re being treated like a dangerous animal. They can hurt if they are put on too tight. (I have had marks on my wrists that lasted for hours due to smart-ass cops with control issues… or who are simply afraid.) They can cause your wrists to sweat as well if you are in them for a while. (Which in turn causes your wrists to itch.) The act of having your hands and arms restrained like that is unnatural. I suppose some people feel the urge to rub their wrists after they are removed. I personally wash my hands and wrists at the first opportunity upon having handcuffs removed. The guards wear surgical gloves because packing people into an enclosed environment causes all types of disease and viruses to run rampant. (A plethora of skin conditions among them.) Yet they go from inmate to inmate with those handcuffs. (Luckily I myself have had nothing more than a mild rash of some type that went away after a day or two on my wrists from handcuffs.) So I do not rub my wrists; I wash them as soon as I can. I do not know why they do that in the movies.

35.) Which is more unpleasant: traditional handcuffs or those plastic zip-tie flexi-cuff things, and why?

Well, you can’t pivot your wrists in the flexi-cuffs at all, so they are more uncomfortable…  but the flexi-cuffs are one-use and must be cut off (with wire cutters) so I would say, at least personally, those are more pleasant because at least I don’t have to worry about catching anything.

36.) Wouldn’t your lives be easier as prisoners if your code of ethics/rules was more closely aligned with that of the prison, so that your rules wouldn’t require you to do things that get you into trouble?

Wow, um… I am not sure whatever answer I could give you would make sense to you, seeing as how you actually asked this question!

Simply put, of course it would. But that is not an option unfortunately. In short, this environment is designed to break the spirit of a human being (remember, most are not here because they follow rules) into a nice controllable submissive who will ask “how high?” when the establishment says “jump!”

So we establish our own society, our own culture here, because we require that to live, to be who we are and must be.

 

37.) Is there such a thing as solitary confinement for death row inmates, or is being on death row considered to be solitary confinement by default?

Well, I have lived alone in a cage without human contact other than to be chained since 1997. Seems pretty “solitary” to me. But you can decide for yourself.

38.) Are there incentives/rewards for good behavior put in place by the prison, or do they only punish bad behavior? Could you tell us more about that?

The “rewards” for good behavior are you get to watch your TV, you can go to the “inmate store” and buy food and hygiene items, and you can get visits. For me personally, none of those “incentives” work, as my television set stopped working some time ago, I have no one that sends me money so I cannot buy anything from the inmate store, and Anna– the only person who has any desire to visit me– lives too far away to do so. So I cannot lose those things.

When these things are lost it is called “L.O.P.” (loss of privileges).

There is also a little thing called V.C.U. and since someone asked about that a few questions down the list, I will address that then. Keep reading.

39.) How are the unwritten inmate rules (as opposed to the ones put in place by the prison) enforced, and by whom?

That varies from state to state, of course. Prison in general is a pretty “racially oriented” place and each race “polices” their own. How that is done depends on the severity of the issue at hand. It can be anything from a fine to a “tune up” (getting your ass beat) to extreme violence (see also: what happened on the basketball court) or worse!

By whom, you ask? Well, as with most societies, there is a hierarchy through which this happens. No, I will not expound on that any further. In short, I will “take the fifth”.

40.) Do you know whether the guy your friend stabbed is going to be okay?

Well, he seems to have survived this particular incident. Whether or not there will be future incidents for that individual, I am not in a position to say, nor would I if I knew.

41.) I assume VCU is somehow worse than regular death row, but what actually makes it worse?

Well, you are chained and leg ironed before you get to go anywhere (as opposed to just handcuffed), you are then put on a gurney that has been who knows where and used for who knows what, and strapped down, and pulled wherever you need to go. It takes two guards and one sergeant to take you out of the cell as well, so if you take a shower, it could take an hour or more to get out of it because that is how they have to move you. Also, there are the daily searches, the overzealous enforcement of the rules, the reduced amount of property, and the incessant noise that is of a volume that is almost intolerable, caused by the insane who are housed nearby. It is uncomfortable both physically and mentally, much more so even than my current situation.

42.) Will you tell us a story from your childhood?

Hmmm… I have actually thought about that one thing in particular in fact.

It is very personal and I am not sure I want to share something like that. I will write it down some point and see how it likes being on paper, then I will ask Anna her opinion of it for a post. For now I will simply say that I had a regular, upper-middle-class upbringing and life, and I was raised in a far different time than now exists… nothing unusual, though… but I will think about your request. This one story, I don’t know. I may decide that it is letting people I don’t know a little too close.

43.) What are your biggest regrets in life?

I would have to say not living up to the example of my father and ending up here rather than helping my son become a man. I will not go into his upbringing as that is a private matter of his… but I will say that for my part, I let him down in a way that cannot be made up for. (And I will always be sorry for that, P.)

44.) You once mentioned that Anna is about twenty years old, and you also said that you have been in prison for about twenty years. How does that affect how you related to one another? Do things often get “lost in translation” between the two of you from a cultural standpoint? How often is that an issue and how do the two of you resolve that?

Anna is twenty-five years old and will be twenty-six in the fall. I have been in prison since she was about six years old I guess, and I was in jail (awaiting trial) for a fair piece before that– since she was probably four. So it is hardly an exaggeration to say we have never lived in the same world– I was in this world before she was old enough to understand the world she lives in, which I used to occupy.

That said, from my standpoint, I think Anna and I communicate pretty well. Because of my extended incarceration there are some things that I am not “up to speed” on (like Anna having to explain to me what a blog is after she suggested this foray into the public domain) but we (again, in my opinion) get along pretty well without too much lost in differences. It is pretty much like any other friend someone may have.

45.) Do you think that most anyone would be capable of committing murder given the right circumstances? (I am talking about first-degree homicide, not killing in self-defense or to mitigate immediate danger to someone else, killing someone by accident, a soldier following orders, or anything like that– I mean an act that would be prosecuted as a capital murder under the law.) I’d be interested to hear what you think about that.

A technical as well as a philosophical question, with a hint of attitude there at the end. And coming from someone who has no clue how the judicial system works.

First, I would like to say that people are prosecuted for capital murder all the time that had reasons to kill (both good reasons and bad reasons, but reasons all the same.) There are people who are here for protecting themselves! One for a drug deal in which the person tried to kill him, but because it was during the commission of a dangerous crime– dealing drugs– bam! Capital murder!

Rare is an individual who kills for the sake of killing. And those individuals are what society calls insane. (Like, for instance, a true sociopath such as the character in The Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal Lector).

But that is not the question you are asking here. Are most people capable of committing murder given the right circumstances? Philosophically, if one learns anything from human history, both ancient and modern, it is that given the proper “circumstances” humans are capable of any and every horrific behavior imaginable. (I cite the Middle East currently, Germany in the mid-twentieth century, and… well…the list is far too long and storied.)

Now, were these people born capable of these horrendous actions? Or did circumstance dictate behavior? I don’t think that “the why” is as telling as the fact that cruel and horrific behavior was somehow able to be tapped into.

And to remove soldiers from the question? Well were the soldiers not “doing their duty” at Abu Ghraib? Did Marines not “do their duty” at My Lai? Were the Nazis at the Nürnberg Trials not “following orders”? Some of the most horrendous atrocities in human history were committed during times of war when humans thought they had license to do as they pleased under the guise of “following orders” and “national duty”!

It is simply a fact that it is within the psychological makeup of humans to kill. Our ancestors were born to do it and did it as a furtherance of survival or tribal strength. Society has changed so that killing is not as much of a needed tool as it once was.

So, have humans “evolved” to fit the dictates of a modern society? Or has society “evolved” to fit the changing needs of humanity?

I know this: when I was growing up, kids didn’t take guns to school and kill their classmates because they felt “picked on”. (We barbarians would “duke it out” on the playground one-on-one, for which kids get arrested now.) People were not “gearing up” like SWAT members and killing people they never met in movie theaters. Nobody was running down innocent bystanders with their cars because they had a bad day.

So is this due to society not allowing for the release of normal and natural aggressive tendencies of a species that was born and bred with the killer instinct? Or are these the product of a society’s “evolution”? Or genetic anomalous mutations of a natural evolution?

I haven’t got the answers for you, but I do think humans are capable of pretty much anything given the proper circumstances and motivations, and that includes killing. We are born of violence with the taste of blood in our mouths. Although most seem to wish it otherwise, nature is a strong force in our existence. Its drives are raw and primal. Nature will find a way to assert itself.

And on that rant, I will close this post and give Anna’s fingers a rest. (Please remember that without Anna’s tireless assistance, you would not be reading this now… so thank her… and I thank you too, my dear friend.) More questions will be answered soon. Until next time, take care.

 

 

If I Were in Charge

Welcome to the Roost! Time once more for my ramblings and ravings. It has been a busy and frustrating week here. Had a major search just a few days ago. (Don’t worry, this post won’t be about that– I have already regaled you with a full-length post about searches!) But it was a good one! Law enforcement from everywhere! Local fuzz, county fuzz, state troopers, FBI, ATF, drug-sniffing dogs… the water was turned off for about nine hours so we couldn’t drink or flush our toilets…. as I said, a good one!

No, this post won’t be about that… I have been sent (never forget to thank Anna, please) a couple of suggestions for blog posts, so I will try one of those. This is a “consolidated” question from several different askers, so the question itself is all-encompassing.

I recall you once saying that you believe in the death penalty on principle but disagree with how the system works in practice. If you were asked to re-design the whole system, what would you change? What would be the criteria for receiving a death sentence– what crimes would a person have to be convicted of, and with what standard of proof? What person or group of people would have the authority to hand down a sentence of death? How would the system work, both before and after sentencing? How would the appeals process work? How would executions be carried out? Would laws regarding the death penalty (including those about whether or not to have it in the first place) be all federal or state by state? What would you keep about the current system?

Wow! Gotta love my readers!

This series of questions would quite literally take a book to even come close to addressing. Although they may sound simple and straightforward, the public at large would need to be educated as to how corrupt and arbitrary and capricious the judicial system truly is, to understand why it should never be allowed to hold authority over the life, and especially death, of any human being.

Of course there is a need for order and administration of law, and the judicial system cannot simply be done away with wholesale. But until and unless it is made to function with no caprice, it simply cannot be allowed to murder its own citizens.

For a nation of people to allow its government to do such a thing in its name is the very embodiment of fear-based, propaganda-induced insanity! Why don’t you just build a coliseum and start throwing people to lions for entertainment, or start gladiator “games” in which the condemned slaughter each other to the cheers of the masses? Truly it would be more honorable than to strap a human being down to a table and pump caustic chemicals into their bodies in secret ritualistic ceremonies reminiscent of satanic sacrifices. (If you are going to empower your own government to murder in your name, you should at least demand to see it…perhaps “pay-per-view” or something? I personally think every voting citizen of the US should be required by law to watch a minimum number of executions– live, of course– say, at least five?

Remember this, readers: nothing done in secret is likely ethical or moral. 

But I have gotten off the topic of answering the question here for you, haven’t I? The question here was directed at me… how would I re-design the whole system? How would I do it? If I think the state or federal government does not have the right to do such a thing, how could I possibly take the task upon myself to design such a fair and enlightened procedure that could factor in all the variables needed to account for the individuality of each case? In short, I have no more right to do so than they.

Do I have a better understanding of the overall situation than some gas-bag politician sitting in his or her political headquarters trying to figure out how to get re-elected? I believe so, through personal involvement if for no other reason. But that is just my humble opinion, and you know what they say about the numerical abundance of those. (Just like a certain orifice, everyone has one.) But still, I could not fairly design a whole system.

This is what I know. Statistically, the death penalty has been deemed to be not a deterrent. (In the realm of deterring others beyond the one murdered from indulging in like behavior. As for the person actually killed? Well, life without parole would have them incarcerated until death, so therefore no threat to the public.) So that puts a pretty fine line on what is justice and what is revenge. (Although you more commonly hear it called “closure” nowadays because society does not like to attribute to themselves such ugly motives as “revenge”.)

And since that is what it is… Well, someone else can’t take revenge for another. (It’s got the wrong “taste” to it) I know I wouldn’t want someone else to kill in my stead. It’s my job, my “sin” if you will, and shouldn’t be “pawned off” on another. So if I have not go the stomach for my own revenge, then it doesn’t get to happen.

Now, I know some of you are thinking, “My God, he is an animal and they should kill him!” (You’re entitled to your opinion.) But the way I see it, if you make something that is dirty and nasty, like murder, clean by removing the horror of it, it then becomes too easy to do. (Like waging war by shooting missiles thousand of miles… the enemy becomes statistical numbers, you don’t see the life leave their eyes. You don’t experience the horror of real war. Pushing a button is too easy.)

So if someone whom I have personally wronged wants to kill me? I have no problem with that… duct-tape my candy ass to a chair and draw a line five feet in front of it. Give the person I have wronged a 12-gauge shotgun with one shell in it and tell them: “There he is. Look him in the eyes and get your revenge…” Then after they wash some of me off of them in the shower… well, then they will have their “closure”, won’t they?

So, how would I change it? The judicial system is corrupt and it is not going to change… so make the execution process a lot more personal. There would be far less people on death row that way. And the ones that were? Well, the process would be a lot less barbaric than it is. This is just my opinion, as I sit in a cage waiting to pay the butcher’s bill.

Remember to say a big “thank you” to Anna for her part in making this blog a reality– without her, none of this would be possible.

Until next time, friends.

 

Rules of the Row

Greetings and welcome once again to the Roost. I deeply apologize for my absence but it is due to the environment that must survive within. I will see if I can explain at least some of what has been happening over the last few weeks.

Things happen in a place like this that are near impossible for anyone outside of it to understand. Unfortunately, I must leave some information out so I do not implicate myself or others as I relate what I can to you. So please bear with me as I give you the information I am able to give you.

The reason I have not posted on the Roost recently is because I am trying to protect this forum as best as I can from detection by the powers that be. I, however, on the other hand, feel an obligation to those of you who wish to read my ramblings to give you access to do so. I have therefore decided to throw caution to the wind and give you a carefully worded post.

My mail of late has been under elevated scrutiny, or so I believe, anyway. As has everyone else’s mail that resides in the block that I do. I will try to leave out any intrigue or latent paranoia as I am able and stick with what I know to be facts as I relate the reason for my hiatus.

My immediate neighbor, someone I have known a couple of years and enjoy interacting with (I find it… difficult… to call people here “friends”) is no longer in his cage… or indeed this block. He is now over in another area of the prison where they (the prison) have the Violence Control Unit. (Although some years ago they started using the euphemism “Enhanced Security” for who-knows-what reason.)

The reason for his relocation is that he (my neighbor) was involved in an assault.

This was not an assault where someone is beaten up. This was an assault where someone was stabbed over twenty times and had to be put on a helicopter and med-evaced to a hospital outside the prison to save their life– this assault occurred on the basketball court. (Oh yes, this means no more basketball for anyone. Security, administration, all freaking out… a few may even be concerned for the future of their careers.)

No small contingent of inmates are also concerned, as this “prison thing” just got very real for them. Behavior that they have been indulging in that is not tolerated in this environment, but was gotten away with because everyone was kept separated in cages…. well, the “cost” must be coming due on the horizon in this close custody experiment that is pending, and paranoia is almost palpable. (I can’t help but find that part a bit amusing myself… many have been writing checks with their mouths that their asses had no intention of ever cashing, and now payday is coming.)

But I digress… the point of this is to give those of you who are interested in such things a little “peek behind the curtain” of a maximum security prison environment.

My neighbor (the one who was moved to V.C.U.– I will leave out names as I believe that to be best) is really a nice fellow. Intelligent, well-read, generous to a fault, gregarious, and in general, personable. I like him a lot. He is by no means the uncontrollable animal I am sure the prison system would like you all out in the world to believe at all. I have personally been out to the basketball courts with him over ten times, and there are others as well, about a dozen people I think. (Although not many have been out as much as he and I.)

So why did the assault occur?

(I am sure the details– also something I will not go into on this forum, would cause most to call it “horrific”.)

Well, the simple answer (and the only one I can give you here) is the prison– administration, security, command staff, etc.– messed up, big time!

Some of “the badges” harbor the false belief that they are in control of the chaotic sub-society that they created the environment for formation of, but never really did have control over. (To be honest, that is why “special management” or “supermax” prison units were created and built: to house convicts the system cannot “modify” into submission. Death row should never have been housed in one as a whole population.)

It generally serves a purpose to let “the badges” have the illusion of control. But some, due to an inflated ego, or perhaps an infinitude of stupidity, begin to believe they truly do have control and do whatever they please instead of showing even a modicum of common sense and realize there are some things that just should most definitely not happen. (Like my neighbor being put into a basketball enclosure with the person he was.)

The close-custody experiment pending is another example. I understand there are many here on death row who do not under any circumstances want to participate in close custody. I can only imagine that’s because they realize “the bill is coming due” for past transgressive behavior… and they understand the prison personnel are not in control and do stupid things myriad because it is generally not themselves who end up paying the price. Personally? I just sit back and wait to go to close custody– I wouldn’t miss it!

At this time, I should probably tell you that my neighbor came away from the assault relatively unscathed. (Do you remember the device I mentioned in a previous post concerning the basketball program… the one that launches little hard rubber balls filled with pepper spray powder? My neighbor was hit about twenty times.) But otherwise, it was the other person that was on the helicopter to save his life. Trauma surgery has come a long way. (The wars that have been happening in recent times have forced the advances to happen in technology.) He lived… but the blood trail from the basketball enclosure can still easily be seen and followed.

It is my understanding that the artery in his neck was clamped off so he did not bleed out. But to be honest, all the information I have about that part of it is second or third hand at best… details are sketchy at best… don’t want us to have too much information — that “illusion of control” thing, you know?

I do apologize that I just cannot go into much detail… there are pending investigations, my former neighbor will likely be charged with some sort of crime, no doubt. The cops are likely reading this before even Anna does, let alone all of you… and besides, I know nothing about any of this other than what I can find out in bits and pieces. (A standard story that I will stick to no matter what, as I ever have and always will.) So what I can relate to you here is thin at best.

I know it is difficult for you all out in the world to understand the statement, “It is all the prison administration and command staff’s fault!” (I am sure your “knee-jerk” thought is: “Why can’t you just follow the rules?”) To which my answer would be… that is exactly what we are doing, following the rules. Our rules. The rules that enable the aforementioned “sub-society,” the foundation of which was laid down long ago in the creation of an environment that control could never be had over.

And “our rules” are actually a modification of “their rules”, which are as follows:

• If you don’t do as you are told we will take away the small comforts you have and treat you as a dog that has been errant, taking away all your “toys” and confining you.
• If you exhibit any aggressive behavior at all, you will be gassed (pepper sprayed), tasered, forcibly taken to the ground. And beaten, then to be removed to a “special area” where everything can be taken away from you for up to a year or more, and you are literally treated as a highly dangerous wild animal where you are chained hand and foot before you can come out of your cage to be strapped to a gurney because you are not even allowed to walk anywhere because you are “so dangerous”.
• You do as you are told, without exception, or any or all of the above can and will happen to you.
• You may not put a piece of paper over your light (which is turned on 24/7) to reduce the amount of light in your cell. No, they do not care if you have a headache or not.
• You may not hang up your clothes to dry after you have washed them in your tiny sink. All laundry must go in once a week for washing. No, they do not care that you only own two pairs of boxer shorts, two pair of socks, and two shirts. You can’t wash them and hang them up! No, they don’t care that your clothes smell bad and are more dirty when they come back from the laundry than when they went in; washing your clothing that you must wear dirty for days is not allowed!

I could go on and on… I could write a book about the “the rules”… but it is the punishments I mentioned at first that are relevant here.

If we are treated with violent behavior, then how might we respond to our violent environment? Well, we too have a code of conduct, things that are expected of everyone without exception. People that are “new here” are given a period to learn this code, but if they refuse to, then more aggressive means must be employed to “get the point across” when one lives in a testosterone-fueled, violence-filled, aggressive environment, that person either responds accordingly, or they likely become a victim of that environment one way or another.

Arizona is not what you might call a “rehabilitation state.” When people are incarcerated in the Arizona prison system, it is for punishment, make no mistake about that. Oh, they give some people “jobs”. (Little more than slave labor, really, making five or ten cents an hour…and death row are not allowed to have jobs!) and claim that as “rehabilitative job training”. But in truth they could not actually run the prison system without the consent and help of the dumbasses that take those “jobs”. (Inmates prepare the food, work most of the maintenance, do all the cleaning) — perhaps “dumbass” is a strong word… working likely helps their time go faster for one… but still, they help the system imprison them! But again, I digress. (Or rant, whichever you prefer.)

If you do not at least try to rehabilitate someone, how should you expect them to act? Like someone who understands they made mistakes and wants to better themselves and join what society calls “normal”? Or might they act as the dangerous animal like which they are treated? There are few who can separate the worlds and act accordingly, depending on which one they are interacting with. Am I one who can? Sometimes I wonder and it troubles me. I am pretty sure my former neighbor is. But when it comes down to it, we are all products of the horrendous environment that was created for us.

We live in a place of swift and sometimes vicious retribution and lessons learned by violence. I ask that you try not to judge us harshly. If a human is treated like an animal long enough, it becomes difficult to remember what it is to be human. Especially if one only interacts with this environment.

The assault that occurred, of which this post is about, would be deemed as barbaric and vicious by society outside of prison. Here, however, it is simply another day in this fucked-up place. (Please excuse the profanity. I try to refrain when I can, but it fits here.) I survive in a place of extremely high violence and that tends to make one jaded to it at best. To understand this world– truly, really understand it– one must become a part of it. And I deeply hope, with whatever is left of my humanity, that none of you ever get that chance.

So again I ask: judge us not too harshly, as you have not walked in our valley of death, and cannot understand it unless you do.

‘Tis time for this old raven to sleep now. Take care. I will see about getting back to a schedule of posting more often. Please remember to thank Anna, without whom none of this would be possible. She is a kind soul and a dear friend who is deeply appreciated and loved.

Rumors and a Murder

Hello again and welcome once more to the Roost. In this place, there can be periods of tedium that last for varying lengths of time… periods in which not much happens. This seems to be one of those periods, filled with the minutiae of prison life. So this post may just be mostly a rambling on of not much. A couple of things I relate may seem like major incidents to some…but in this environment one tends to get used to what may seem like horrific occurrences to the minds of others.

About a week and a half ago (as of this writing) someone was killed at another unit in this state. Prison personnel like to keep us as much in the dark about such things as they can, but information has its way of slithering around. This happened at the older “super max” unit, SMU I. When “jumping units”, information can be slow in making the rounds, so you may actually know more about it than I do. (Although news is oftentimes suppressed out in the world about such things, too. Anything having to do with Trump is far more important than a death in a prison.) Someone told me it did have a very short mention on one of the local Phoenix channels– although, not a story, mind you, just a quick mention before getting back to the important stuff, like how Ivanka Trump’s clothing line is faring. (I have not a television myself….but I hear those around me talking about the “top stories”. I disagree with the term “fake news” myself… but I have been amazed for years what people allow the “news” media to report on and just quietly consume it rather than demanding that news be important issues and not just what the Kardashians are up to. They have special shows to keep those who are interested apprised of just such nonsensical drivel.

But I digress– perhaps that is a rant for another post! Back to the issue at hand…

I have actually heard a couple of of possibilities as to what occurred.. by far the most likely being that one person killed the other person with whom he shared a cell. (That happens far more than the state will readily admit to.) The other, less likely, possibility I heard is that someone got an opportunity to go after a maintenance trustee. (A maintenance crew consists of a crew boss, which is a prison guard, and a group of sex offenders that do the actual maintenance work– at least in maximum custody–they bus the sex offenders in from a sex offender unit.) Sex offenders are universally despised by general population. So, while that second possibility is indeed a possibility, it is less likely, as the guards are pretty careful about putting sex offenders someplace safe before general population is allowed to pass through.

Something else occurred later that same week. The whole unit was on “lockdown” (that means no movement…which means no one leaves their cage) for a twenty-four-hour period. This was annoying on a personal level because it happened to be one of my shower days. (I only get twelve a month!) So no shower, and I washed up in my sink as I do most days anyway. The guards were even more “tight lipped” about this lockdown, because apparently it was local. All we managed to glean was that there was a “non-specific threat to staff by inmates that was deemed to be credible.” So that scared the crap out of them, and nobody got nothin’.

There are exceptions to every rule, of course. (All bets are off when you factor in the violently insane, for instance.) But in my time here– and I have had prison staff agree with me when I take the time to discuss it with someone– I have found that, by far, most incidents of inmates “going off” are caused by prison staff. We are locked in cages; we can’t go anywhere. Staff, however, have the ability to “de-escalate” a situation. They don’t have to stand there and argue with someone who is not getting what they have coming by law (food, toilet paper, etc.) but they will anyway. They are not supposed to call people names but they do, they have the ability to walk away from a heated situation, but they will stand there and get a person madder and madder. Then, because we react to that, we are the uncontrollable animals. They (the system) creates an environment in which people are killed in their cages (often times as they sleep!)

So our testosterone levels are maxed out, and our survival instincts are off the charts. So perhaps, just perhaps, our aggression level might be a tad high as well? Don’t get me wrong, therea re docile milksops who do whatever they are told, but with the exception of death row (that has a large share of nice controllable milksops) those are found out in units walking around. Not in supermax lockdown prison units used for containing the “uncontrollable”.

This place can be frustrating beyond words sometimes. I have learned to deal with it better than I used to… but I still have my days. Prison is not the “vacation” some in society believe it to be.

Now if you will excuse me, I need to deal with the situation of medical equipment (knee braces– a formerly active lifestyle wore my knees out prematurely and ADOC will not even entertain the idea of surgical repair) that was authorized by a member of the medical staff that actyally physically saw me and determined the need was genuine… has been taken away by a new medical staff member that I have never seen before and apparently wants to “piss on the fire hydrant” to mark their territory. And as it could take months to correct… I should get on that.

Until next time…fly straight and true.

Targeted?

[Anna’s note: Tod wrote this post on the 25th of January 2017.] 

Hello again and welcome to the Roost.

I was planning on making my next post about the new program where they are putting two people out in “basketball courts” (just a concrete slab, fenced in, with a bare basketball hoop at one end) together. I still plan to tell you all about that soon.

But something just happened yesterday that I think may be of interest to at least some of you. It illustrates the chaos that is prevalent in this world. So I hope no one minds if I relate this occurrence today.

I have to begin by telling you that just about three weeks ago, a major unit-wide “quarterly search” was conducted. As the title indicates, these searches are done approximately four times a year, during which they look for weapons and “contraband” and in general do their level best to disrupt people’s routine as much as possible. So, that means that about three weeks ago all our property was gone through thoroughly and searched.

Now that you have that background…

I was recently asked by one of you whether I am worried about people who work for the AZ Department of Corrections finding out about this blog. (The answer was and still is “no.” If I needed something to worry about, I could find better.) And I am not sure, but I may have been asked what would happen if they did find out. (I know I have run down some possible things that could happen, anyway.)

Well, to perhaps remove the mystery… I may just have found out what would happen if these asswipe bastards found out about this blog.

To be fair, I must tell you at this point that I am not sure that is what has happened. But I have thought through the possibilities and the one that keeps rising to the top of the file, given what was done and “targeted” is that the blog must be the cause. But, this is all conjecture on my part at this juncture. And I want to make that abundantly clear.

Now, with this said, I will relate what happened for you.

Yesterday was a day I was supposed to get recreation time and a shower. (I was in fact supposed to go out to the basketball court with someone!) But everything was “shut down”. Those who asked for a shower were given some vague excuse about a “personnel shortage” and perhaps later. Others asked different guards about recreation, and each was given as different response…something was clearly up!

When a “normal” search is conducted, the search team starts in block or “pod” one, and they continue around the cluster (which holds six pods of ten cells each) until they complete the circle and are done. This is not what happened yesterday. At a bit after 9:00 (9 AM is when administration gets here and fills up their offices in a building adjacent to the prison unit proper.)

The door to this block (I am in pod two) bangs open and in rushes enough cops to “post up” on every cell. (Have not had this type of search since I got off the violence control unit pod years ago!) We were all strip searched (I have described this process before so I won’t go into detail again) and told to “dress warm” and were allowed to take bottles of water with us. We were taken out of the cluster where we encountered at least two, perhaps three, squads of SSU (special security unit… which I also have not been searched by since I was last in VCU). Generally there is only one squad here, so the extra were brought in from other units. Of course at this point, “the jig was up” and we knew we were not just getting hit, but hit hard.

We were taken to outside holding cages where we were put on constant watch by a guard who mostly just sat and looked at us. Asking anyone that showed up as we might about what was going on, we were told that they did not know and were only told that death row was to be “locked down” with no movement until further notice. This in and of itself was odd, as there have been no assaults or communique intercepted by anyone to warrant such a response. So this type of search, while not unknown (if you are in VCU and assaulting people) is unusual, and reserved for “special occasions” as it takes the type of preparation and personnel that it does, and is therefore expensive to pull off, both resource-wise and monetarily.

As I have said before, a “normal” search means we are pulled out and stuck in a shower or something for fifteen minutes or so while a team of two or three guards (not SSU) go through our stuff, and then we are put back in our cages right away.

After an hour and forty five minutes (!!!) we were removed from the outdoor holding cells and brought back inside.

Based on previous behavior of this type, I was expecting us to be moved to different locations all over the cluster (due to time involved and SSU being the perpetrators of the search). This is done when a group of people become too “one-minded” in that one person’s problem with staff becomes everyone’s problem, or there seems to be just too much organization in a block…

But, no, that was not the case. We were brought back to our cages to find the whole hour and forty-five minutes was spent going through our stuff!

I did not ask everyone, but the two I did ask were– like myself– targeted for information. (Paperwork gone through, pads of paper rifled through, that sort of thing.) In general, these types of searches on death row are pretty rare. They are usually reserved for members of prison gangs (which I am not) to try and find out about gang activity information. The last search I got of this type, with SSU being involved and everything, was literally years ago. (Again, when I was on VCU.) and then it was generally after a major and serious issue that had happened somewhere (like an assault that the cops believed had been ordered by another inmate) and nothing like that has even occurred here recently that I am aware of.

But let me tell you what was personally done in my cage on this search. Some (but not all…almost like it was a diversion of some sort) of caches of paperwork (legal work) in envelopes and files were apparently gone through. Letters that have been sent to me were also gone through. But a composition book I keep (and jot down mostly unimportant things in that I want to remember or keep track of) was barely touched! (Which would be the exact sort of thing they would be interested in on an information search…the asswipes do not know it’s nothing until they take it, copy it, and look for non-existent “codes” in it!)

I also have a small file on people of “personal interest” on the row, and although again, this is something that should interest them… well, I am not even sure it was looked at. But none of that… nope…

What they did take was a pad of paper that I had future blog ideas written down in– even a partial post written up on the basketball program was in there! And that was what they took.

They also took every pen I have! (I found this one that I am writing with now rolling around in the bottom of a box.) They took the rolled up paper holders I make for pens because I only get pen fillers to write with, not the plastic part that the filler goes inside of. As far as pencils, I am only allowed to have three-inch-long “golf pencils” so I made a holder for those to fit in and they took that, too! I have had that pencil holder for literally over ten years…gone through I have no idea how many searches! The leads on most of my pencils were broken.

I am pretty sure I am being sent a clear message!

I am very aware that, after extended periods of time in punitive lockdown, some degree of paranoia is bound to set in. (As well as any number of mental issues.) But I have tried to see what was done from other angles, and nothing else makes a lot of sense. I suppose there is some degree of chance that things just happened, out of the blue, to go the way they did. But can you imagine the odds of that? Because I can’t.

To me (a self-admitted asshole) the message that is being sent is simple: under no circumstances will I stop writing entries for this blog!

I must assume someone found Muninn’s Roost and clearly does not like it. Their problem, though, is that there is nothing they can do, legally or otherwise, to stop it! I am within my rights and no laws (or even prison rules!) are being broken, either by Anna or by me.

They can screw with me and make my life miserable. Some of my posts and letters may even “get lost” on the way to Anna. But they are otherwise powerless against their mortal enemy… the truth!!!

As I stated at the beginning of this post, this is all supposition on my part. I may never know one way or another whether my suspicions are correct. (Other than by my treatment here.) There may be clues that can be read (such as if the letters I send to Anna have large gaps between the date on the letter and the stamped postmark date, or if the envelopes are cut open on one end and taped back shut… that means the asswipes are opening them.) But as neither Anna nor I have or are doing anything wrong legally or otherwise, that may be all the evidence we will ever have.

I will have some trouble replacing what was taken. (Perhaps this was their plan? They know my financial situation– they have that on file in their computer system.) The pens I cannot afford to buy. The paper? There were only fifteen or twenty sheets left so I got to use over half anyway. (But it does sting a bit to have it stolen like that.) I can make my pencil holder up again and see if perhaps there is a market for cards….one or two, perhaps? Card drawing is pretty seasonal, except for birthdays, and there are a few people “gettin’ their hustle on” that way. Valentine’s Day is approaching… not a lot of time to get any business together for that, however. Just have to see.

I do know that I will keep posting about this place for as long as I can. I think it is important that I do that– especially now!

Yes, there were other things that were taken, non-blog-related things. Stuff not usually messed with (like my pencil holder) things that I use to make my existence a little bit less annoying. I may not make replacements, actually– my thoughts turn toward “pushing back” at this point.

Well, that is about all I have for this post. I will be back as soon as I can, and I will keep you updated if I ever do find out the reason for what happened. Oh, and I will tell you about the basketball program in the next post, barring any major upheavals here anyway.

Please do not forget to thank Anna….you would know nothing of me were it not for her.

 

Ask Tod Anything: Part V

Hello again from the Roost. This will be the second installment for answering this batch of questions. So I suppose I will jump right in:

12.) When the judge read your sentence in court, were you expecting it or were you surprised? How did you feel?

To be honest I knew I was going to get the death penalty. My lawyer (who in some ways “sold me down the river”– he is part of the system after all) kept requesting a change of judge until I was in the court of the only judge in the county who gave out death sentences (unofficially known as the “hanging judge” of Maricopa County) who would be up for re-election the year following my trial– and a good, well-publicized case in which he handed down the death penalty would go a long way toward getting him re-elected.

(Most people do not understand how political the death penalty really is– and the ways, which are myriad, in which is it used for a political vehicle.)

So, yeah, it was pretty much in the bag that I was getting the death sentence.

Here is a good indicator for you: After– that is after all the trial stuff, mitigation/aggravation stuff, everything to do with the trial– is over, the judge is supposed to sit down and write out his feelings in a “sentencing report” during which he considers all the aspects of the trial, especially the mitigation hearing (which is the very last part of whole process) and and explains for the court record why he/she is handing down the sentence that they are. Well, my mitigation hearing ended at about 11:00 AM and the judge said, “We will break for lunch. Then I will read the sentence to the defendant.” (In one of the most complicated trials in that county in a long time, mind you. Break for an hour and a half and come back and sentence me!)

I leaned over, knowing that as soon as I was sentenced I would be stuffed in a van and sent to prison, and asked my lawyer to tell the judge that I had been in county jail for over a year and needed at least one day to get my affairs in order and write a couple of letters telling people I would be moved to prison shortly. The judge (with a rather sour look on his face) agreed to this, and the sentence would be read the following morning.

The next morning the judge read out a 32-page sentencing document… 32 pages!!! Which means he had it pre-written the day previous and prior to the end of my official trial!

Oh, yeah, I knew I was getting the death penalty. Everybody did! (two female guards, which I had known since I got locked up, came the lat night I spent in the county jail to my cell and gave me a tearful goodbye– separately, not at the same time– one had to rush off as it was a bit more than just tearful… she started to break down.) Everybody knew.

As to how I felt…a death penalty trial is pretty stressful…I had literally been prodded and poked for almost a year, my family harassed by prosecution and defense investigators and, well… I guess i was just kind of relieved it was over for everyone’s sake. My family had been put through more their share of “enough”.

13.) Is there anything Anna has to do (or avoid doing) in order to make sure her letters get through to you? How strict are the mailroom rules? Does someone read her letters all the way or just skim them? Are your letters to her read too? What is considered grounds for confiscating a letter? Are there rules against swearing?

All good questions if you are considering writing to someone.

First part, make sure that whole address is on the envelope. (Especially name, inmate number, and the correct name of the facility.) Outside that, they just have general rules for “contraband” that vary from state to state and facility to facility. (Like I can’t have hardcover books but down the road at another facility they can.)

Reading letters… it would not really be possible to “read” everyone’s mail. (Although there are times when specific people’s mail is “red flagged” and it does get read in its entirety. There are several reasons this can happen but they are supposed to revolve around “threats to security”. Whatever that means.) So as a general rule, mail is skimmed.

As far as my letters to Anna being read… it is possible, but you would have to ask her. (The letters would be cut open and taped back shut, Anna.)

Letter confiscation? It can happen if there is some sort of “active criminal investigation” going on…but if someone does not like something, a letter can “get lost” at any point between the mailroom and my cage. It happens that way more than anything else official happening.

And no, there is no rule about swearing– which Anna, who uses a surprising amount of of four-letter words, is happy about. Isn’t swearing protected to some degree by the freedom of speech? I seem to remember that being litigated to some degree.

14.) Are you from Arizona? If so, whereabouts in Arizona? If not, where are you from?

When I was out in the world, I lived the lion’s share of my life in the Colorado Rocky Mountains. (Mostly in the woods.) But I spent part of my life as a “saddle tramp” as well, moving from place to place on the back of a Harley. I have been to about (or passed through at 70 miles per hour) about every state in the contiguous US and up into Canada and Alaska. So I like to think I am from everywhere.

15.) Have you The Green Mile, and if so, how accurate would you say the portrayal is of life on death row is?

My television broke some time ago and they are expensive and I just cannot replace it. So, no, I have not seen The Green Mile. But I have read the book by Steven King. I cannot speak to how accurate it might have been in the 30’s, which is when it was set I think… but now? Not at all. For one thing, it had, what? Five, six people on death row? (Which, by the way, is how it should be: the death penalty not being handed out like a carnival prize.) Here there are over 120, I believe. Constant noise, no peace… I can’t really describe it. It is no way for a human to exist. (It is not “living” so I do not call it that.)

16.) How old were your kids when you went to prison? What’s it like being a parent while on death row? Are you still in contact with any of your kids and/or their mom(s)? You also mentioned grandkids– have you met them?

I had to take a break before I could even write this one down. I know I have told you all a little bit about my child and that I have grandkids, but I have not actually gotten anyone’s approval for including them in this blog post. For that reason I am going to be pretty general in answering this and any future questions like it in such a public forum. I am actually pretty protective of the people I care about.

My son, who is the same age as Anna, was four when I came to prison. Because of a strained relationship with his mother (which existed prior to my ending up here) I did not get much of a chance to “parent” when he was young.

But multiply that by at least the power of ten and that is how frustrating, scary, and overall difficult it is to parent or be a parent from a cage. This environment is not one I would want my grandkids exposed to, so no, I have not met them in person– and you cannot imagine how much that hurts me. But this unit dictates that I would only see them through glass and not  be able to hold or even touch them anyway. Maintaining any sort of semblance of a family life/contact is very difficult in my situation.

17.) Who are some of your heroes and why? Fictional characters, historical figures, famous people, people you know/knew, etc. or any combination of the above are all fair game.

Hmm, interesting question, have not really thought about it before. I suppose first and foremost would be my father: an outstanding and heroic man indeed. He served this country in World War II with bravery and valor, and was recognized for it. He started and raised a family, doing the very best he could by us, and sacrificing himself on a daily basis and never seeking recognition for it. He was a good, loyal, and honorable man. I think he is about the only person I would call a “hero” to me. There are historical figures that I admire some of the things that they did or were involved in, but I have only known the picture history paints of them. A man that may have done something noteworthy to history could have in reality neglected his family to do so, or done dishonorable things that no one knows about, so I don’t feel comfortable putting someone I only know by a “snapshot” of their life on a pedestal.

18.) When you were a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?

I recall most of the “normal” things a child wants to be: a fireman, a pirate ship captain, an astronaut (back to the “Captain Kirk saving whole planets” thing.) Pretty much whatever I was fixated on at any given time. I don’t recall any “serious” aspirations.

I always enjoyed creating things out of wood, metal, paint, pencil/pen, and paper…I just mostly wanted to be free to do that.

19.) What were some of the hardest things to get used to about being in prison?

Where do I begin? Everything. I still do not “do as I am told” so perhaps that would be one. The noise, the smell(s), all the people packed in around me, bad food (and I use the term “food” loosely here)… I eat, sleep, everything, less than six feet away from an open toilet. The whole situation is an exercise in “getting used to things” humans are not equipped to ever get used to. This place breaks people’s minds, steals their sanity… I really cannot recommend it at all. I can’t even say it “builds character”… since I have been around so many who have none at all (or honor or integrity for that matter). In short, I suppose, I am still getting used to things.

20.) Are you actually considering something like “slap this horse in the ass; I’ve got things to do” as your last words? Or were you kidding about that?

Not in the least was I kidding! What do you say when you are strapped down to a gurney for a nice little murder by proxy show for a room full of people devoid of any ethical compass to watch?? I would like to say something profound and deep to be remembered by, but that would detract from the barbaric theater of the absurd at hand, now wouldn’t it? Perhaps I should start a lottery: what might you all suggest, given the total ridiculousness of the situation? All suggestions will be considered.

21.) Are there rules about what you can say as your last words? Time limits, restrictions on profanity, does it have to be in English, things like that?

(This should help those of you who wish to participate in the “last words lottery”.)

What you say is into a microphone, and the warden has his finger on a button, ready to cut you off if he so wishes. So, better off with no name callin’ or deeply political statements. Profanity is likely out as well. But as far as I know any language is okay. (Surely they wouldn’t deny someone who speaks no English the right to a last statement? I would hope not.)

Time limits? If you attempt a “filibuster” of your impending fate, then at some point they will push the cut-off button and just go ahead with the murder, so brevity would be advised. So… short, sweet, and to the point.

22.) What is your favorite meal? What foods do you miss most?

Here? I don’t have a favorite meal. It is all crap– crap I would feel bad if forced to feed to a dog. I miss fresh food, uncanned vegetables that still have some nutrition in them… fruit! Oh, how I miss fruit! (I don’t know how these asswipes got away with never, ever giving us fruit! An apple or pear or an orange… I have to stop, I am starting to salivate…and I am certain that will turn to weeping soon.

Okay, I think I am down to where  I can finish off three questions with one more installment, so I will give Anna’s fingers a rest once more. Thank you for the input. I really enjoy interacting.

Expect another Q&A posting soon. And please don’t forget to show appreciation for Anna’s dedication to this project, without which you would not be reading any of this.

On Blogging, Captivity, and Sanity

Hello again and welcome to the Roost. I understand this thing is doing pretty well in readership. (As most if not all of you know, I do not personally maintain the site. In fact, I’ve never laid eyes on it. I handwrite the content and my very dear friend Anna posts it for me.) I am not sure how I feel about so many reading my thoughts. I suppose I may not have really considered it all that much. (That might actually be a good thing– not thinking too much about it, that is. I have always been pretty private… before this place, anyway…)

I am not sure how I feel about so many reading my thoughts. I suppose I may not have really considered it all that much. (That might actually be a good thing– not thinking too much about it, that is. I have always been pretty private… before this place, anyway…) I have never even kept a journal– not really, anyway.

I have never even kept a journal– not really, anyway. I do have a composition book in which I write meaningful quotes. A sample, out of a book I read a bit ago called Live by Night by Dennis Lehane (wonderful novel) goes: “Violence procreates. The children your violence produces will return to you as savage, mindless things, You won’t recognize them as yours, but they will recognize you. They will mark you as deserving of their punishment. They will punish you for the carelessness of their creation. Violence breeds violence. That is an absolute. But it never returns in a way you can predict.” (That was a “knock me down on my ass” moment reading that novel, and I had to write it down.)

But this blog is about the most open I have ever been. For example, I have never told anyone in here about some of the stuff I wrote in that holiday post I wrote. So this is all pretty new to me.

I suppose my reasons for blogging must go beyond the selfish, as I carry on doing it regardless of the response or lack of response, and deplete my ever-dwindling supply of postage with each entry. There must be some altruism there, right? Or perhaps not… maybe I just need to write to get some of the frustration of this place “off my chest” so to speak. Maybe this is my last flailing attempt at maintaining whatever I have left of my sanity, which can’t be much.

A place like this does change a person. I don’t care how mentally strong a person is– they cannot live in an environment like this for years and years and be the same as when they arrived. I believe I have mentioned watching others go insane in here, but I don’t think I have touched on realizing that you may be joining that crowd. I came in with some background in philosophy but at some point, it begins to become more and more difficult to “wax philosophic” concerning how a society deems people (even people they deem “bad”) and make any sense of it.

I came in with some background in philosophy but at some point, it begins to become more and more difficult to “wax philosophic” concerning how a society deems people (even people they deem “bad”) and make any sense of it.

I even wonder if perhaps my jailers are insane. (Not all of them, mind you, but certainly the ones in charge.) Some of them are not what you would call “the cream of the crop” of society, after all, and those seem to be the ones that advance most readily. (I have seen my share of petty, vicious, small-minded, lying reprobates climb the ladder to success at the Arizona Department of Corrections.)

I remember a time when prison guards would take off their uniforms before they went home because they didn’t want their neighbors to know what they did for a living. (And it wasn’t because the profession was bad…it was because of the reputation of the profession and those who performed it.) They were as bad as, or worse than, those whom they were hired to keep in cages. And that has not changed. The last I knew, about a quarter of the employees who work for ADOC have had felony contact with law enforcement but are given “preferential treatment” by the system because of their “high stress” jobs. And most of those continue to work for ADOC (except for the ones they can’t hide, which is rare– an ADOC corrections guard named Santiago that used to work for this unit who got a “sweet deal plea agreement” and is now sitting in protective custody right here in the Florence Complex prison for killing his own mother– if memory serves, he beat her to death with a cooking pan. I honestly can’t recall all the details…but please tell me again how the death penalty is supposed to be a deterrent? He worked on death row! But this example provides a reasonably accurate picture of many who work here.

But I feel I need to state here that I have seen decent people work here, too. But it must also be stated that most (not all, but surely most) of the good ones do not work for ADOC for very long. They see how fellow human beings are being treated and just cannot morally abide it…they leave the profession altogether. (Compassion is not just looked down upon here; it is vehemently and systematically discouraged.) And the ones that do stay, at some point they either lose their compassion or find a way to pretty thoroughly suppress it. I try to take all of this with the proverbial “grain of salt” but, wow, it is difficult sometimes.

As you might imagine, I have a great deal of time on my hands to think about things. I wonder if, on some psychological level, society just needs something to demonize and hate. When you step back and look, that statement is not as farfetched as it may seem at first gloss. If so, then I think I may be part of the element that serves that purpose.) Some people sure seem to have a lot of hate, though.) But I guess I can sort of look at it this way: At least I am “serving a purpose” right?

Anna tells me that she has received a few mean-spirited and petty emails concerning her role in helping me to reach out from this cage– really, people?!– I guess when you’re anonymous, it is easier to be rude. The internet was not all that big when I was on the outside. People seem more polite when they have to look you in the face. At least where I lived they were.

I would like to know what the issue is? What is it that people fear that makes them lash out like that? (Because, mark my words, they are afraid of something…I guarantee it!) And to lash out at Anna of all people… the gentlest, kindest human soul I have ever known.

But what is it? I live in a cage under sentence of death. I can’t hurt you. So, is your fear that people will know that I am not a sociopathic monster? That, hey, I’m just a person just like everybody else! And maybe people will start asking why someone ends up on death row, instead of assuming the solution lies in just committing another murder and that will solve everything. (Yeah, I’m not the sociopath here… I didn’t keep hundreds of people in cages only to strap them down and pump them full of caustic chemicals to kill them…can you imagine the trial on that one if anyone but the state did it?) But it’s me– us– that are supposedly the monsters…it’s perfectly fine for the state to murder us. Think about that absurdity for a moment… I’ll be honest, it makes me laugh when I consider the stupidity…but then again, my sense of humor has always been a bit warped.

I suppose I have rambled on long enough about nothing in particular. (The whole title of the blog does have “ravings” in there somewhere) and that is what this post is about…nothing. If I want anyone to take something away from it, I will refer you back to that quote from Live by Night: “Violence breeds violence.” If violence procreates, then what, as a society, do you breed by condoning what the state says it does in your name? Revenge is one thing, but you have to be able to sink your own teeth in a thing to get that. A sterilized little murder by proxy, tucked away from the sight of all but a select few witnesses? Now that is the act of a barbaric monster!

When I was on the outside, it was my habit to give gifts to those I care about on the eve of the Solstice (as I write, it is now that very day, the 20th of December). But as I sit destitute in a cage, that is lost to me (as are so many things) I will give you one of my creations in the form of a poem I wrote.

I was asked to write a blog on what my last day alive would be like. I wrote a poem entitled “The Pithing Pen” about a year ago, before I started writing to Anna or doing this blog. It is metaphorical but does get the point across.

Please remember to thank Anna, without whom none of this would be possible. Dear friend, words cannot express my fondness or my gratitude.

 

The Sacrament

I live in darkness — not a physical place,
Devoid of light — but a darkness in my
soul… a life without light– little meaning
and even less joy.

Nothing is my own — nothing is private,
nothing is secret — fingers, not mine
touch everything — take everything…
chaos — confusion — pain.

Decades this has been my world — no contact
except to be chained — led everywhere
Not even an illusion of freedom is allowed
in a world of shit I do my best to survive…
But sometimes — sometimes

The darkness — I can’t keep it in sometimes.
It screams to be let out– screams only
I can hear — they tear at the very fabric of
my psyche… bend my mind to embrace the
darkness– has it become what is best in me?

I bleed — my sanity runs like blood from a
wound. A face I hardly recognize looks back
at me from a piece of polished steel — a face
Distrusted and bent — is it truly mine? I
feel distorted and bent…

It can be difficult to tell physical from mental
pain… it all runs together somehow… I
wonder if it matters — truly — some hurt
themselves just to feel… what? I can only
imagine. I haven’t made to their level… yet.
Maybe someday.

Someone far more wise than I said: one
should learn to love fate– amore fati–
to have nothing other than the the way it is.
Not only to bear what is necessary to bear,
But to learn to love it.

My fate– darkness– it is illegal to keep
animals in a zoo as I am kept… it is deemed
inhumane — am I less than an animal? A
beast to be locked away and feared… is
humanity beasts?

To love fate I must love all it has done
to me– love the darkness — love the anger,
love the beast…

I must baptize these as
the best in me — will the sacrament be
blood? Or my sanity?

Anatomy of a Search

Hello again and welcome to Muninn’s Roost. I loathe to sound like I am whining, but a friend advised that people who visit this site may wish to hear more about this place and how existence is within in it. So upon that friend’s very trusted advice…

I was “searched” yesterday. Let me apologize in advance for having to get a bit graphic with some aspects of this occurrence, but I feel that to get the true idea across at least some of that is needed. For without the purposeful demeaning elements, it loses something.

A search is something one really needs to experience to fully appreciate. And I am not talking about one that is staged for a television show here. I am talking about the “real deal”. Something the guards call “tossing a cell” or “a shakedown”.

It begins with a noise, lot of it. Ten to fifteen guards standing at the foot to a block getting excited over the idea of tearing through cells. Some cycle the mechanism of their handcuffs over and over… it makes a loud zipping and clicking noise. Those disposed to nervousness may begin to feel mild to severe paranoia here depending on their sensibilities. Then there are those of us who feel anger and go on the defense.

Then the door to the block bangs open…

Carts roll in on noisy wheels to put things on that are taken away for arbitrary reasons far too myriad for space to allow a description of. Large trash cans are dragged in to throw away things deemed as trash or my favorite term: “Nuisance contraband,” which anything can be labeled.

The guards stop at the first cage closest to the door, open “the trap” (a small metal door covering a slot in the door through which mostly food is passed through) and the occupant is ordered to strip and hand the gloved guard their clothes. (The guards wear rubber surgical gloves always; they don’t want to touch us with their hands.) While naked the man is ordered to show them the inside of their mouth, to raise their arms, lift their scrotum, then ordered to “turn around and squat and cough”. Some comply with this degrading demand… I just continue to turn until I face them again and demand my clothes back. (I simply must draw the line someplace.) Some can be insistent… in which case I get other clothing and put that on. Some may call over a sergeant and tell them I am being “non-compliant” (like I ever would be compliant) and the sergeant usually tells them to back off a bit.

Then the person is chained and removed from their cage. (Some use metaphorical terms like “cell” or “room” or even “house”… I don’t kid myself, I live in a cage… like an animal.) A team of guards then enter the cage and proceed to tear through what little property the person has. This is not done in a polite or nice manner as it is on the aforementioned television show. (There are no cameras present.) And after they have touched, moved, perhaps thrown everything in your cage… you are brought back, the door closes behind you, the chains are removed, and you are left, sometimes having to walk across your own legal work strewn all over the floor, to try and figure out what might be broken or if something has been stolen from you.

It takes anywhere from two to eight people about ten or fifteen minutes to turn a man’s pitiful existence upside down. And while you are waiting for them to get to you you can hear them in the cell next to you. And again as you try to re-organize what little life you have, they do it to the next person in line.

It takes a while to recover from such a thing. First (after I figure out best as I can what is broken or missing) I just pick things up and put them in the couple of boxes I’m allowed to have. I am not trying to put things where they go, mind you; I am just getting stuff off of the floor and contained. I won’t get things back in order (files and what have you) until perhaps the next day… depending on when the search happened– usually in the evening– the only time one really has to try to relax.

After I get things picked up, I clean…ceiling, walls, floor, everything! (I call it “cleaning the asswipe out of my cage”.) I do this because you can never know where the asswipes (guards) came from. Before they got to you they could have been searching a block where they house the mentally insane, who cut themselves and throw (or wear) their feces and urine, or standing in blood. (The insane cut themselves too.) or blood from an assault, somewhere, blood infected with any number of viral pathogens. (I clean a lot!) Then I wash me from head to foot with an anti-bacterial soap, (when I can afford to buy it) or at  least regular soap. Staying clean and cleaning is almost a full-time job.

It can take awhile to settle back down into your normal (what is “normal” in a world like this?) pattern of existence. At best this place is a theater of chaotic absurdities. What a human can get used to is truly amazing. But generally, after a day or two, the search fades to a dull memory. (One needs the ability to “move on” in an environment such as this.) “Adapt. Overcome.” Such is my mantra.

Well, that is what it’s like to get searched in the highest maximum security prison in the state of Arizona. I can’t promise anything. But next time I may attempt to write about something besides “here”. I like to try to mentally get out of this place when I can. For now, I will leave you with another piece that I wrote. (Yes, about this place.) It has a few lines that pertain to searches in it. I hope you enjoy it, or at least it moves some of you in some way.

Until next time,

Tod