Three letters in a week. I work with James at the central
warehouse for DOC. It supplies all the food and supplies for the facilities in
the southern half of Colorado (or something to that effect). Incidentally, this
job is the reason I haven't been writing, it takes too much out of me. I used
to spend about 4 hours a morning writing, re–writing, and generally despising
whatever blog entry I happened to be focusing on. I just can't do that when I
already have so many other things going on. It's like how Bukowski didn't write
anything when he was a postal clerk. Some people just need time and space, I
think. To work with their mind, I mean.
Back to the letter, I think James is pretty cool. He really
reminds me of a friend I had in middle school, Artie. The first time he really
talked to me (James, not Artie), we were being searched after coming back from
work, and James said, in a slightly crazed voice and plainly audible to the
guards, "What's that, Day? You're fitting to kill me?"
He was plainly joking and talking in a cartoon–y voice. I
played along somehow, I can't remember. We were cracking up. James is a
small–statured black dude who carries himself in such a way that he looks
bigger than he really is. He told me how he used to play Super Smash Bros. with
the scariest thugs you could imagine. Girls would come over, ready to party,
and then they'd be confronted with this sight of face–tatted men from
hell—playing Smash Bros. and really getting into it. It's such a funny vision.
I can totally see the girls scoffing or giving each other sideways glances.
James has a funny nickname, it’s Munchie. At first I thought
this was some sort of mildly racial thing, it almost sounded like he said his
nickname was 'monkey', and I thought, 'that's kind of weird.' But it actually
refers to the fact that he used to be constantly high, and eating. So he was
the living embodiment of the munchies, I guess. But he's thin as a rail, so the
name isn't apparent, and he thinks that's funny. I told him he should call
himself "The Baron Von Munchhausen," and he liked that way better. So
how I call him Baron, which is similar to Brown. It's almost like an accented
pronunciation of Brown.
It's really funny to make James laugh, because he literally
comes from a dark past, the whole 9 yards, gangs, guns, drugs, the works. He's
done it. And he's told me things I won't repeat. But making him laugh is funny,
because the simplest things make him laugh, all I have to do is say whatever
I'm thinking out loud, and he laughs for minutes on end.
We were eating lunch, and the bread was all crumpled up,
every sack lunch had this-fucked up bread, and no one commented on it because
every sack lunch-is---- an exercise in sadness, they're disgusting,
mysteriously wet, and have some disgusting lunchmeat that looks like a factory
by-product. We were talking about some other thing and I caught sight of
someone trying to make a sandwich out of it, and I just said, "what is
with this bread."
And he laughed. He couldn't stop laughing. He had his head
on the table laughing, and then he went to the bathroom because he was starting
to tear from his eyes, and when I thought he was only washing his hands I heard
him suddenly laugh more. Somehow I'm the only person who makes him laugh like
this.
I told him how I can't stand sports. I can't take them seriously.
Like, every time I would try to play some sport in middle school or high
school, I couldn't help but think, "man, this is a lot of work for a
ball."
And he couldn't stop laughing at that. "Man you're
making me feel like a dog. Seriously. Running around for a damn ball."
And I'm like, "Seriously, man. Everyone's really
interested in what that ball is doing. It's so weird." He cracks up, even
more.
And it's so dumb, I think I'm jealous of the ball, really. I
tell him this, and it's the funniest fucking thing in the world. Like,
thousands of people are watching the ball. All the sports--it's all balls.
We're obsessed with an inanimate object.
And then you've got people yelling at the ball, their veins
are popping out of their faces, they're about to have a heart attack, and when
it's all over they feel like they had fun! They bring dates to watch them do
this, and the dates think, "Yeah, okay, I'll stick around with this guy.
He yells at balls."
Alright, I'm done. So, he wrote a letter to Tony Carochi,
who is the assistant director of DOC. There's a lot of truth in what James is
mentioning, although he doesn't list specifics. The AR he mentions (AR stands
for administrative regulation) has the following value statements: 1) Our staff
is our greatest resource, 2) we support a professional, empowered workforce
that embodies honesty, integrity, and ethical behavior, 3) we honor and respect
the rights of victims, 4) we respect the individual differences of our staff
and offender populations, and seek to safeguard—the-safety-; dignity, and wellbeing
of all, 5) we strive to deliver correctional services with optimal efficiency,
6) we engage in effective correctional practices that produce measurable
outcomes, 7) we are committed to exceptional customer service, 8) we are
dedicated to providing opportunities for offender success, and 9) our success
is achieved through mission—focused collaboration.
His letter also briefly mentions a new AR that is about to
come into effect starting in September. DOC is going to ban all pornographic
material from offender possession, period. They won't even let saucy letters
from girlfriends (or boyfriends, I guess) come into the facility. No pictures
will be allowed that do not conform to the same standards that visitors to the prison
are subjected to regarding dress. This means that even bathing suit pictures
are not okay, or negligee pictures, or even mini-skirt pictures.
Now, I think this is sort of creepy. I mean, I think society
has a fairly good understanding that sexual deviancy occurs when a person is
deprived of a regular and healthy sexual outlet, and inmates are already
deprived of this.
So, honestly, I think this will result in bad things.
Like, I think that the reason so many Catholic priests are
kid-touchers is because of the celibacy vow. It's because of the heightened
sense of guilt and shame associated with sexual things. I think the brain finds
a way to work around his celibacy. The sexual urge is linked with the
reproductive urge, which is linked with the survival urge. So if sexual things
are bad, then his brain makes the appropriate changes necessary to find bad
things sexually attractive. And the rest is merely opportunity. It's all going
to be bad when this happens, I absolutely believe it.
Alright, on to the letter.
