Category Archives: yarns

Tom Jefferson, Founding Father and Serial Rapist

Hu-wi. That’s Cherokee for “hu-wi”. The Silly Season is on us.  Every election year we get bombarded (“we” defined as anybody trying to get information to process and mold our separate opinions) by something called The Expressed Original Intent of The Founding Fathers, with both the Founding Fathers and any coherent shared-by-all-or-even-most Americans beliefs at the time of the revolution being as elusive as the majick unicorn who bears the faerie who guards the Holy Grail. And almost as easy to catch.          One opinion artist put the number of F.F. persons as 3 (THREE) being Ben Franklin, G. Washington and T. Jefferson. Out of the 4 million humans counted in the first U.S. Census. Three. Two of whom were slaveowners. Franklin didn’t have slaves, Washington didn’t write in his diary every or any instance of screwing his slaves but Jefferson did, at least on one particular victim. The “serial” part is the long term multiple times the self-made bastard abused one victim in particular, Sally Hemings, aged 14 at the time of the first assault. He would have gotten a life sentence for it today. This muddies the pool of Founding Fathers and the interpretation of just any of the Divine Precepts by which, according to some, every act of the US and state governments must be measured.       In shorter terms, bullshit.

A great steaming pile equal to or greater  than =/> the annual output of the Great State of Texas. For all or even any of the Original Intents of the Foun… eh, whatever to be relevant or even known or opined by modern Americans, every psychic wannabee in the world would have to (coordinated with all the others) hold daily seance sessions.

Which would be a more productive use of their time than the usual activities.

Recap: Slavery being a hot issue at the time with more than any two or even few interpretations of what constitutes slavery being as elusive as the Majick Unicorn and all the rest of my snarky first paragraph, and that only one issue on which the so-called founding fathers violently disagreed.  See Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr Duel on wiki or google. I’m not going to make a link on that. Except for a mental link, free for the taking by any and all.

You’re welcome.

To finish out the beginnings of that paragraph, slavery was just one of the Original Intent bullshit questions we’re supposed to answer by just grabbing the answer out of the æphemera or maybe just your momma’s rectal orifice, voting rights, (originally denied to 90% of Americans at the time), conscription, definition of Common Defense, public welfare, citizenship issues great and small…

And we’re supposed to make election of quote “our” quote “leaders” based on that. Aaron Burr and Jefferson would be in prison for life if they were majickly reincarnated and pulled their bullshit crimes today. And that’s just the start.

Another number, contested of course, approximately 80,000 free white Militia and Continental Army at the most At One Time in the revolution, 20 thousand mercenaries fighting for the US, 25K privateers (pirates and other outlaws just doin’ their little ol’ thang, meaning murder and robbery, baptized by War as being legitimate) on the American side. The British and their allies were outnumbered. And that will be rightly challenged. However, before barking, please consider that no pinpoint accuracy exists as to numbers. There’s not even a consensus as to the vast number of Amateur Historians doing the counting. You’re on your own, kid. The estimate of casualties is that more American soldiers died of disease and malnutrition than by bullets, sword, cannon or rope.

In the immortal words of K-TEL marketing, Now How Much Would You Pay? But Wait, THERE”S MORE.  More than I’m going to put into this treatise.

Again, you’re welcome. History is so blatantly arbitrary and the individual historians, those with doctorates as well as the dufus on the next barstool, will never agree on each and every point. Please consider that the next time you feel like spouting out the OPINION that another Historian, like for instance in the Ward Churchill controversy, should be hanged for not agreeing with your OPINION.

or when some politico tells you that the ghost of Jefferson told him to tell you (in a dream of course) to vote for his agenda… just before he got back onto the Majick Unicorn and rode away into the mist. You can ponder how this effects the War Agenda and the decisions on who must die. On a daily basis.

And don’t go raping your slaves. It just ain’t cool, yo.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shit in a Sack

?盈彩彩票Cell House Three with 'Dog Cages' on the second floor, left.
From the front page of the Pueblo Star-Journal and Sunday Chieftain?, Dated Sunday November 6, 1977. The banner headline on the front page cried out in large bold lettering: NEWSMEN TOUR PRISON AND VIEW “LIVING HELL” By Bill Gagnon.

Canon City- A three-man reporter-photographer team from The Pueblo Chieftain and Pueblo Star-Journal stepped out of the bright and warm summerlike weather here last week and into a medieval chamber of horror- Cellhouse 3 at the Colorado State Penitentiary.

?Once inside the grim building, they were stunned by the sight of humans caged in filthy cells and living under the most wretched conditions imaginable, denied even the most simple and basic necessities of life – soap, towels, soaks, clean clothing, blankets and sheets. Yes , they even are denied the necessary materials to scrub and clean their steel hovels.

?For 24 hours a day, seven days a week, these unfortunate creatures are kept locked in their filth-covered cages with nothing to do except learn to hate an indifferent and unthinking society that keeps them there.

?Treated and looked upon as subhuman beings, even medical and dental services available to them are mediocre and to the point they are almost nil. And letters sent to them by loved ones outside the high, gray walls sometimes is delayed for weeks at the prison before being delivered to them.

?While these conditions observed first hand by the Pueblo news team in the prison’s so called “punitive segregation” section made a grown man ill, they were compounded by those seen in the narrow and darkened steel barred isolation cells in the solitary confinement wing. There, faceless and silent occupants huddle and cringe in the darkness amid the pungent stench of filth within the close confines of these cesspools like cubicles, almost concealed from those outside.

?Those confined to this living hell in the infamous Cellhouse 3 are stripped of all human dignity and respect. An aura of frustration and despair hands heavy throughout this living example of man’s inhumanity to man.

?Yet, despite such barbaric treatment, some find an inner strength which turns to outrage and they cry out to the world; “You can’t do this to me; I am a man!” But few outside the walls hear, or want to hear them.

?But the voice of one of these tortured men, David Anderson, in the form of a letter sent to the editors of these newspapers describing the deplorable conditions in maximum security, was heard. And it resulted in the assignment of this news team to investigate the shocking allegations.

?Note: the article also contained several photos of the conditions, and covered two full pages of the newspaper.

While I was confined there, Gerald Hayes, one of the prisoners, sat down in his cell, with an old razor blade, cut off his index finger.

With blood dripping from his hand, he scrawled a message on the wall of his cell “God! Help us, Convicts are people too.”

Gather round children, I’m about to tell you a true story. ?It happened nearly 40 years ago in the Colorado State Penitentiary. It happened in cell house three.

?Cell house three was isolated from the rest of the prison, it was built to house death row prisoners and other prisoners deemed problem prisoners.

?If you caused problems in cell house three, they would then send you to a special tier called the “Dog Cages” This was their jail within a jail within a prison. The “Dog Cages” was a 24/7 lock down in your cell. The only exception was when you were let out of your cell for an hour to take a shower. Some men lost their minds under those conditions. It was quite easy for a prisoner to become so confused after months, that he could not distinguish one day of the week from another.?

Many of the prisoners there committed self mutilation or suicide. In my efforts not to end up hanging from a dirty bed sheet as so many others, I chose humor as a means to hold on to my sanity.

?This is the story of one of those efforts.?

Since the beginning of time when we first started locking men in prisons, the prisoners have made knives for self protection. These 盈彩彩票made knives were called a “Shiv” or a “Shank” and over the years the prisoners found ingenious ways of hiding their “Shank” from the prison guards who were continually searching for the “Shank”.?

For many guards, finding a prisoners hidden contraband, made their day. And for some guards, finding a “Shank” was as near a sexual experience as they could get. They became ecstatic.?

With the hidden “Shank” and the prison guards lustful hunger to find it, I began to set up my plan.?

The chief “Shank” hunter of cell house three was well known; he was Lieutenant D. A. Davis, who was in charge of cell house three on the swing shift. Lt. D. A. Davis loved his job and the power he held over the prisoners lives, he never missed an opportunity to torment the prisoner with late delivery of their mail or medication, the two most important things to a prisoners.?

D. A. had on several occasions during the cold winter months, set the steam heater on the “Dog Cages” at the lowest setting, the control for the heaters were off tier in the control cage, there were many windows on the tier broken and snow would often blow onto the tier. Another little trick that seemed to give D.A. a lot of pleasure; when the food cart came to the cell house from the main dining room, he would let it set until the food was cold. He took joy in making the prisoners suffer, making sure to remind them he was in charge of every aspect of their lives’. ?

D.A. could also be cruel to the other prison guards. He was a Canon City 盈彩彩票town boy, who thought of the prison as their cottage industry, if a guard was from another city or another race ( D.A. was white) D.A. would made them also feel his wrath. guard Rodriquez had two strikes against him; he was Spanish from Pueblo.?D.A. was one of those spit and polish guards, sharp creases in his shirt and trousers, Lieutenant bars sparkling, I think he was afraid to sit down while in uniform for fear of wrinkling his trousers. He was an overweight heavy jowl bully with shifty eyes that seemed always searching as if his deeds would catch up with him.?

While Rodriquez was a complete opposite of D. A. in manner and dress.?

Rodriquez was a small quiet man, his uniform was always a little rumpled, in the several years I knew him, I never once saw Rodriquez mistreat a prisoner. He once confided to me that he thought being locked in a prison cell 24 hours a day was punishment enough and that he was not going to add to it. The empathy for the prisoners in his face was easy to see. He said that he had taken the job as a prison guard as a last resort only to take care of his family, after failing to gain employment in other areas. All the prisoners respected him for the kindness he showed them. Because of the way D.A. treated Rodriquez it could be said that he suffered as much abuse from D.A. as the prisoners did. ?

Rodriquez seemed always to have a slight smile whenever I made D.A. the brunt of one of my schemes, but he never said so with words. I think the enemy of our enemy can become our friend, it was Rodriquez who tossed the newspaper clipping ( Living Hell ) on my bunk one day, the news article was consider contraband and unavailable to the prisoners until I received that copy.

The Plan:
Timing was needed for my plan to be successful; It needed to happen just after D.A came on duty for the 3:00 swing shift, and there would need for one of the prisoners to be out of his cell for a shower. When a prisoner is out of his cell for showering, is the only time he would have access to the exterior windows you see in the photo above.?

I had acquired a small 8 inch by 12 inch plastic bag, in the bottom of this bag I place a 8 inch wooden stick and then took a nice big healthy shit in the bag, adding a smidgen of water so as to make the mixture runny. I rolled up the bag tightly and then wrapped it again in an old newspaper so that the contents were not visible. When you felt this concoction of stick, plastic and paper it felt like there could be a “Shank” hidden within. ?

The Hide:
I tied a short string in the center of this concoction and had the prisoner out for his shower lower it out the exterior window so that it hung between the second floor and the first floor. The time was about 3:15 and D.A. had just came on duty. The guard tower just yards away from the cell house had a clear view of the exterior of the cell house and I was sure what his reaction would be when he spotted it hanging there outside the window.?The prisoner out for his shower waited until the tower guard was on the back side of the tower before he lowered the bag out the window and tied it off on the bars.?

And just as I had planned; The tower guard spotted the bag hanging there a few minutes later, the Tower guard took out his binoculars for a closer inspection of the bag. Ah Ha! what are those convicts up to now? and then the next step, the guard picked up his phone to call the cell house and alert them to the mysterious bag hanging out the window on the “Dog Cage” tier. I heard the cell house phone ring.?
The Jig is up! D.A. the “Shank Hunter” was on the job.?

D.A. hollered out Lock-Up! meaning for the prisoner out for his shower to go to his cell. The cell block door slid open and D.A. came walking in as if he were doing a head count of the prisoners. He walked casually to the end of the tier, not looking at the widow where the bag was tied, on his return trip his demeanor was much different as he excitedly jumped to the window and pulled the bag up, ripping the sting from the bars. Glancing around he darted for the tier door with his prize in hand….of course, I hollered out “D.A. Come Back Here With My Shit!?

The prisoners all locked in their cells exploded in laughter.

?D.A. was still not sure of his prize as Rodriquez later told me of what happen when D.A. entered the cage. He feverishly began ripping opening the bag and discovered the sack of shit, he threw the bag on the floor and it splattered up on his pants. His face turned beet red with embarrassment as he remarked to Rodriquez he didn’t want to hear any talk of this incident. D.A. began to wretch and struggled to keep from vomiting. Of course we prisoners knew that we would have some new punishments coming from D.A., but hearing the laughter was so therapeutic, there are those moments when suffering and punishment reach a point that we don’t care what happen to us. ?

D.A. took a short leave to go 盈彩彩票 and change his pants.?

When Rodriquez came on the tier, he walked right up to my cell with the biggest smile I had ever seen on his face, and said I know you did it David and it was beautiful! my reply was “What are you talking about?”

The Moral of the story; When Shit Happens… make sure you’re not the one holding the sack.

Hillary, Trump Hold Historical Meeting

DLA News Service, Denver, Colorado
 
Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump, along with Bill and Melania have met privately to discuss the fall election. The meeting was conducted at a closed door meeting on Wall Street late Tuesday evening after sweeping wins by both candidates in Super Tuesday primaries. The candidates have made a tentative agreement, that after their nominations in their respective party conventions, they will suspend this fall’s Presidential election.

They have agreed that this is an effort to get their money out of politics, whereas they agree on so many of the political and social issues, they will each serve a two year term as President and vice President as soon as the Negros are evicted from the Whitehouse.

Due to the limited number of bedrooms in the Whitehouse, it was decided that Bill and Melania would share a bedroom while Hillary and Donald shared the Presidential Suite.

The one undecided issue is, who will get the first two year term.

There was also some discussion on merging the Democratic and Republican parties to simplify the Presidential elections, with a ban on all other political parties as a cost cutting maneuver.

The selection of all Senate and Congressional seats would then fall to the Vice Presidents office with no need of costly future elections.

Proud to be an American against war, with the exception being this election.

盈彩彩票peaceA good friend of mine used to wear this button everywhere. If it wasn’t the button, he wore the t-shirt. “Proud to be an American against the war.” Tonight he sported a button for BERNIE. Of course he did. We were joking around and he intimated he was not wholly disinclined to favor TRUMP. ME NEITHER, I told him! Trump coud bring down the empire single handed! No need to spark a revolution, Trump would pull a Samson out of sheer egoism! He’d gold plate our drones and they’d be grounded! He’d build a great wall and then we’d have a Great Wall! For tourists of all nationalities! A Great Wall couldn’t stop the Huns, even Disney knows that! And reportedly, billionaires are against Trump, so what’s the problem? Remember when we’d attend rallies dressed in suits and pretend we were “billionaires” advocating for war or bank bailouts? If billionaires wanted it we were against it. What the One Percent fear, we need! Haha! My friend would prefer Bernie of course, but Trump is definitely his third choice he told me. “Third” I asked? Well, first Bernie, then Hillary naturally, then Trump. OMG WTF.

David, Goliath, and Eric Brandt

盈彩彩票
I must confess, I’m no fan of the Bible, I’ve never understood how a man’s lips are moving and it is called the word of god. The same is true with the written word, the pen is in the hand of the human. But there are stories in the bible with a powerful message. One such story is of a small shepherd boy who goes down into the valley armed with a slingshot and a few small stones. The story of Eric Brandt.

Eric Brant went down into the valley of the 16th street mall and waited there for the giant to come to him. Eric had baited his trap with a donut, he knew of the giant’s hunger for donuts.

The giant lard ass cop came into the valley astride his motorcycle, he meant to dispatch Eric to the nearest jail. This lard ass cop had with him the power of the prosecutor, the court and a kangaroo judge.

Eric had only the truth, a small sling shot and one small smooth stone, attorney David Lane who was with the gift of words.

The giant raised his mighty sword to slay Eric. With one smooth motion Eric brought forth his smooth stone (David Lane) and sent the giant to the ground in a matter of moments.

The Moral of this story: When you come into Eric’s valley, you better bring more than the power of the state or he will send your donut munching ass back to yo mom-ma, minus yo head and ego.