after a long rest.

*this entry was written a year ago and has been left unedited for the most part. 

It has been more than a couple days since my last entry...close to 2 and a half years if I had to guess. My last entry was likely made in New Castle before heading east...visiting Tamaqua, Pa for the 1st time and eventually making it to Allentown to break bread with my Nuttin But Luv b/c and c/c friends G-Child and Lu Dogg.

Honestly not a great deal has happened in the almost 3 years since my release from Butler County Prison; I have traveled, meditated, got a dog, lost friends, reunited with old friends, written and read. I have created art, taken pictures of things that came into existence without my help, and tattooed a handful of people. My philosophy has become more rigid, less forgiving. My best friend, Preston is in prison and I am bitter about this...not that he didn't know the consequences of his actions, I am bitter because of Preston's absence not because the system he came into conflict with. In contrasting and positive news I, myself, have been released from probation after 16 years.

New Castle in the months following my release from Butler County Prison on October 13 2013 was much the same as it has always been. It is an ugly, boring little town with a short man complex. The people of New Castle are much the same...the majority are veterans of the explosion of wanna-be gangsterism that happened in the 90s, then there is a horde of crack and script zombies that litters the streets of the "city", followed by a veritable parade of imaginary MMA professionals, wanna-be rappers, backwards mongrels who believe that life begins and ends New Castle, as well as a higher concentration of ICP fans than I have seen anywhere outside of Detroit. Of course there is a TINY percentage of decent folk who originate from this diseased piece of real estate...but the majority of those who I have had the pleasure of meeting have either left NeCa all together, joined the service or become hermits in their homes and I don't blame any of them.

Obviously New Castle is a sore point for me, so when the chance to abscond arose I jumped on it like it was a trampoline and rode the highway east, east, east until I met Tamaqua. Tamaqua is the home of  a former girlfriend of mine named Lauren. I didn't see much of Tamaqua proper, only Lauren's mother's impressive chunk of property. A property which was all the more impressive that it was owned by a woman who works for a whopping 3 days/12 hours a week as a shipping clerk at her father's construction supply company. Not that the woman could work elsewhere...her persona, a finely developed defensive tool can only be described as atrocious. A victim of some degenerative muscle disease or another...she was born with little or no jaw, a series of operations and skin grafts left her looking reasonably "fixed up" but obviously her treatment by her peers as a child with such deformity has left her soul scarred for beyond any sort of  healing...lest it be found in a bottle of liquor or in the bed of whatever man would look beyond her outward appearance.

After some time at Lauren's mother's home, and some time with friends in Greensburg Lauren and I moved into an apartment in Allentown, PA. I moved to Allentown under the understanding that Lauren was abstaining from heroin, an understanding I would later learn was erroneous.  For the most part Allentown went by in a flash. I was, at that time, locked into a healthy pain pill habit and spent much of my time in Allentown at Art and Soul Tattoos, meeting up with my friends from Nuttin But Luv and just exploring that little city...which I later learned wasn't little at all, but our(Pennsylvania's)3rd largest city. It was great to actually meet up with my friend Gina after all this time, and I was more than grateful that she basically introduced and brought me into her circle of friends. I did have a good time out there, made some new friends and would definitely like to revisit the Lehigh Valley someday. Walking in on Lauren preparing to shoot heroin when she was "clean and serene" to my knowledge was a huge bummer...but its not as if I am bubbling over with hope for humanity.

My return west put me into a very uncomfortable situation, being roommates with a longtime friend, Jenn, who on one hand I was very fond of but on the other was repulsed by. I think I should mention that I would not have been repulsed by this person had she been happy to simply be friends...as we always had. Jenn and I had never been romantic, so for her to suddenly approach the issue with me coming out of a year long relationship was highly inappropriate to say the least. Her timing was the least of the considerations preventing us from being intimate, really. Sadly Jenn desperately throwing herself at me made me look at her in a different light...she ceased to be a quirky friend, becoming an embodiment of everything that I find undesirable in a woman. When she would question why I wouldn't ever see her as anything but a platonic friend, I had to look closely at the answer. Jenn was and is the exact opposite of what I desire in a girlfriend...she is physically repulsive to me, from her spotty, dead fish, white trash complexion to her dry straw-bail hair to her textbook "Laziness plus fast food equals what?" body type she was unattractive. Both her persona and fashion sense only accentuated her unattractiveness...I understand that few people meet up fully to ANYONE's standards, let alone my own, but Jenn is that rare woman who simply had NO redeeming quality. Strange that a person could be so completely repulsive, but that is the case...it is unfortunate that it was a friend of mine who was that repulsive to me, more unfortunate that she forced me to see it.

Carl's Song

Its been some years since I've seen your face
But that doesn't change a thing for me
And everyday something will go down
That breathes life into your memory
You were a friend, with the truest heart
And in my heart is where you'll be
I'll never forget the brother you were
Word of your deeds will live through me

For all the lots & all the shows
and all the couches when we were on the road
For every night and every day
For every word you ever said

You will live on through my thoughts
& you will live on through my deeds
& you will live on through my words
You will live on through me for eternity...

Mongrel

You are a slave to all things you should master. A drooling, grinning jester dancing like a moron through the remains of a life no one would claim. Your only joy is in memories...no, better to call them lullabies. These stories you pretend to remember, your heritage is a fraud.

Of course, jester, you are too stupid to take offense. Even if you were to hold the Rosetta Stone in one hand and a detailed explanation of this thinly veiled indictment in the other...even then you have a stray dog's sycophantic and pathetic acceptance of abuse. It is, after all, attention.

In the end you will fight. It will be too late, understand, but you will cling to this life because you never truly lived it. Your one dimensional character study bullshit hasn't served you well(bringing to mind my opening line about being a slave to all you should master).

You will die, as you were born-an empty vessel. Knowing nothing. Standing for nothing. You will die as you live, a nobody. The sum end of your unknown European heritage. All the same, you do not deserve your ancestor's blessing or knowledge. You deserve to die a cultureless, ignorant wretch...No ancestor's halls wait open for you.

Ruthless Muse

kjijpovosdfpdsf: http://youtu.be/3iLZmmrr9JY

My life is so insane right now. I needed this bit of light in the darkness...

Nothing to Say (16)

Pencil in your status for the evening/jinglin' a key ring, like monsters from the sea bring/hobbled up the street like Blood in Blood out/yucky orange flavor used to get the duds out/but its all recreation/could never stand the taste'n, could never let the waste in/he guessed its better than the brown junk/less morning sickness, less time in the trunk/aerosol dreams used to paint his weekends/he stayed away from weak friends, instead would sneak the deep ends/now he's underneath the hoodie/ away from the hood, g...looking sort of poodgie/never was one for fashion/instead showed a passion for bareknuckle bashin'/so he's jinglin' his keys again/time to hit the road and get to minglin'

Mike Marlow interviews Josh Mattocks 3/16/14

Mike: Hello Josh, aka Pablo Diablo aka MFMosh! I'm here in sunny, snowy Cleveland Ohio to conduct a short interview, focusing on your history, views, tastes in various areas, and opinion on the Purpler Hamster Foundation Society for the Preservation of Oddly Shaded Small Creatures Trust Fund Initiative.

Mike: Question 1-Where were you born, where else have been your long-term places of residence, and which of these would you like to be at right now, and why? 

Josh: I was born in New Castle, Pa. another rustbelt town like Clevo...former steel mill town that died in the 70's/80's when the steel industry dried up. I've lived all over...Florida, Maryland, Louisiana. But as far as where I call home...it's always been a tie between Cleveland and Pittsburgh. These are the places that I really came up in & I have equal love for both cities. I've spent more time in Pennsylvania at this point, have always been a Steelers hooligan...but I'll always have love for Cleveland.

Mike: Question 2-Ok, it's not exactly phrased as a proper question, but hey, it's alright. Please name 3 bands/groups that are among your all time favorites, and also 3 of your most disliked. If you need to list more than 3 it's ok, but please not too many, our servers here at MARLOWCOM are VERY busy.

Josh: Thats tough...I want to keep it local for now, and give it up for Wisdom in Chains, American Werewolves and Wreak Havoc... Three bands that I have always disliked are Kiss, Lynard Skynard, and Pantera.

Mike: Question 3-Tell me your happiest childhood memory...and what event ruined it for you.

Josh: Ahhhhh...it's a combination of things, some of the best shit was the most simple too. Kicking it with the homies in Zone, Mohichan and Madison Parks. Nothing ruined it...I mean Betsy from 7/11 tried to stop our shine, but for real...people just grew apart as we got older. If I had a wish it'd be that we could all be on a level that we were able to all communicate without any badness.

Mike: Question 4-If you could prove beyond a doubt that Kurt Cobain WAS and IS the Eternal Virgin Mary Mother Of God...would you share this information, or keep it from the masses?  

Josh:I would definitely sit on that info. For one, I am not a fan of Nirvana...and aside from that I don't think the world is ready for that sort of revelation.

Mike: Question 5-This is perhaps the most relevant social issue of our generation. If Super Jock and Freedom Rock own these fuckin Lakewood blocks.....what did Bill and Bob do??

Josh: Damn...I am trying to remember the line. "Bill and Bob cooked good pork chops"? "Bill and Bob drank soda pop"? I don't know...Don't quote me Mike, I ain't said shit.

This is not about forgiveness...

With all of the animal insanity of the past week or so I almost forgot to record this even for future discussion and pondering. So I had better do it now before my creative filter destroys the matter all together.

For those of you who don't know me, and for those of you who do know me with out knowing all of the details of my life: I have been stabbed twice. The first stabbing taking place here in New Castle; this being the incident pertinent to the story at hand so that is the one that I will briefly detail here.

This was the mid 90's & I was walking through the projects one night on my way to work a third shift @ the plastics plant job that I hated. The projects of New Castle held then & hold now little threat of danger...after Cleveland & witnessing King Kennedy, DTW on Longwood or the pj's on E. 55th, the projects in New Castle are tame.

Be that as it may, never underestimate the stupidity of drunks in groups of 3 or more. I was walking past a group of guys out on their porch drinking, one addressed me "Whats up?" I reply with the standard "Whats up?" back and continue walking. I hear one of the group say "What the fuck did that white boy say?" I am from the street, and at that point I knew what it was, I loosened up and turned around because I was gonna face which ever of these dudes wanted to step. Three of them approach with a few left on the porch. I sized up a taller light skinned kid who seemed to pose the biggest threat and swung. It has been my experience that you are not going to talk or walk out of situations like this so the best defense is an offense. As soon as I swung I was flanked from both sides.

I made it to my feet once before being consumed by the swarm...fists and shoe rubber smashing my face and body. I had been here before. I knew that time slowed down during violence, that my best bet at this point was to cover my head and wait for these chump to impress each other enough to quit. After a minute or so that felt like a day they backed off...as I am standing up I notice a shorter dark skinned kid has a blade out...and I square up again defensive like, my attackers just laughing and heading back toward their porch and bottled toughness...as they are walking off I notice that my right arm is soaked. Blood gushing, rhythmic with my heartbeat, leaking crimson down to the concrete.

Following this, the usual chain of events unfolded...I tried to bet my homie Buddha to butterfly the wounds, but they were leaking too hard, so I had to call off work and head to the hospital and get sewn up. Life didn't change...I lived, continued walking through the same projects to work, though now I carried a knife of my own. Since that night I have held two faces in my head...the light skinned kid that I swung on and his little buddy who stabbed me. I wished every time I came back to New Castle to have a fair one with either of them...I wished this for many years.

So finally almost two decades later, I am doing all this insignificant running around, called into the middle of a sick and stupid fight between my now former roomie and her married boyfriend. I am walking back toward my house when I see the kid who stabbed me walking out of the drug den apartments @ the end of my block. He is hobbled now, maybe some back or knee injuries, looking like he is a foot shorter and a hundred pounds lighter than I am. A pure crackhead/junkie/druggie zombie...raggedy, ridiculous purple coat on over tattered pants and indistinguishable shoes. Yet seeing him, and seeing him as easy prey I couldn't bring myself to think with a vengeful mind. As time often does, a moment repeated it's self & he said "Whats up?" to me as he passed, to which I answered with a standard "Whats up?" No alcohol or friends now to pump him up...he walked his awkward walk down the dirty street we live on. I watched him as he disappeared back into the legend of my mind, another story filed away for later use.

Now I want to be clear, this is not about forgiveness. It is about compassion...and there is a difference. I do not want vengeance, karma has already done to him more than I could do. I show myself compassion that day by not being attached to anger and ideas of revenge, to do so keeps my karmic slate clean. And this guy who stabbed me? Who knows, I wish him the best...I hope that he can find a way to clean up his own slate. 

Witch Doctor(peace and silence)

I don't want to do anything. I just want to sit here and listen to old hardcore and suck down cigarettes and coffee. I don't want to vote for your presidents or look at your hideous baby pictures on Facebook. I don't want to answer your text messages or see whats new in your world.

Can I just read Dostoevsky in peace? Can I sew the hole in my jacket pocket in silence?

Why do you steal from me? If it isn't my clothes, it's my time...or worse yet my consciousness.

I don't want to do anything. I just want to sit here and listen to the old gods talk about the time when I was a king. I don't need a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. I don't want your church. I don't want your methadone. I don't want to reply to your non-sense.

Can I commune with Bukowski in peace? Can I listen to my Bad Brains in silence?

Why do you steal what I don't have? You are a hungry ghost, never satisfied.

I don't want to do anything. I just want to sit in the dark and smoke cheap cigars. I will not go to your party, I will not meet you for lunch(even if you are paying). I will not validate you. Can't I just be left to my own device?

Can I pour over Ginsberg's tomes in peace? Harvest my pain in silence?

Why do you insist on stealing my energy? When I disappear no one will notice.

unleashed

destinies failed & alliances broken
the deepest of screams will sometimes go unspoken
the value of pain & chaos and truth
leaving a human shell-jaded, unmoved

this is the end result of a lifetime
embraced by nightmares, violence & crime
mind turns stone, the only solution
blood follows blood, and sweet retribution

see it in my eyes/contempt knows no disguise
like the sun falling from the sky, unleashed on this world

Too Late

The success came too late. He was already too hard...the tyrannical parents, the group homes and juvenile detention centers had taken too much energy from him. Later the bottle and the heroin and the women and the jail cells would take more energy. He looked at the world with a disinterest. He didn't hate the world, or people, but he saw the cracks in the facade. He was cynical. And he had no anxiety about this.

The small home in Venice Beach came too late. It wasn't Dogtown anymore. It wasn't a surf ghetto by the sea. He may as well still live in Pittsburgh, he would often think this as he walked the beach. California was dead...His Bukowski was gone. His Black Flag was gone. He saw Keith Morris on a regular basis and he never bothered to approach him. What was the point?

The peace came too late. He no longer could appreciate it. The chaos that had coddled him no longer allowed for peace to be a mistress. He could no longer understand or operate in it.

The success came too late.

Wind Up (part I)

"When I was young and they packed me off to school, and they taught me how not to play the game. I didn't mind if they groomed me for success or if they said that I was just a fool...So I left there in the morning with their "god" tucked underneath my arm, their half-assed smiles and the book of rules. So I asked this god a question and by way of firm reply he said "I'm not the kind you have to wind up on Sunday"  So to my old headmaster, or to anyone who cares; before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers."

Ian Anderson-Wind Up/Aqualung 1972

And so before I am through I will want to have my say...If anything in life I have been too fair, too forgiving to people and elements that are not so inclined to fairness or forgiveness as I am. I have been developed the most keen introspect, and I am able to see my flaws and assets clearly. This can be a curse and a blessing...while I am able to see and therefor improve my flaws, or eliminate them altogether, I am at a disadvantage at times in that while I will admit my own wrong, I expect no one to do the same. I have learned that it is not my place to point out other's faults...As is my nature, I have no desire to lead or follow so my capacity to criticize others is low. Even to a point where I will often eat shit for this quality.

So it has been decided, by me of course, that while working on various writing ventures is well and good...it may behoove me to also take time to give my account of one of the more significant and turbulent relationships in my life. To this point the relationship will remain nameless...and it may always remain so, but the point is that people familiar will know and understand my own side of the events through the years. It does me no good to be silent on the matter...in fact, it only makes me look bad and lends to the other party's one sided campaign of chicanery and delusion.

Being the good sport that I am, I will always leave this blog uncensored...and any feedback is not only welcome but encouraged. This will be all for now...but I will end by saying that this brings me no pleasure. I simply need for my side to be heard.

Facebook Note Titled 2013

Although most of this year was spent behind the wall, I like to think it was a productive year. A mistake that many people in jail make is that they only really live two days of this sentence; the day the arrive and the day they leave. I did not make this mistake...I utilized my time, I bettered myself physically and mentally. I rehabilitated myself. With the help of my teacher and friend, Sivali, I learned more about the Buddha's Dhamma and as a result understand myself a great deal better than I did a year ago. 

I think most importantly I was able to reconnect with my family. It will take awhile with my daughters...I have been absent from their lives for too long, but we are starting to all know one another. There is work to be done ahead, but it has begun and we are moving forward.

Sometime in Dec 2012 or Jan 2013, when I was in jail I was called down to the guard's desk. The counselor, who had been accused of sexual misconduct(and who testified against one of his co-workers @ grand jury), told me that he had read by Dead End King blog...A blog that I had thrown out some opinions about the situation, and about guards behaviour in general. He told me that the administration had had a meeting about my blog. They were obviously uncomfortable with it. This made me determined to write more about my experience...and upon my release I published a great deal of my writings to a new blog- http://joshmaddog1976.blogspot.com/ I have enjoyed a healthy number of followers, and will continue to write on the experience. 

On the 5th of November, I became Guy Fawkes. I met other people who are also Guy Fawkes. I am fortunate to have met these compatriots. They have helped me to see that I am not insane...that there are others who are tired of the facade of civilization at large. People who believe, as I do, that the wheel of fate should be in the hands of the people, not just a few tyrants. 

I got to see three of my close friends get clean. 

I also lost some people this year...First, Carl Opperman. His passing remains the hardest for me to accept. I still miss him everyday and can't bring myself to delete his number out of my phone. I will see him in the pit of every show I go to...I will hear him every time I listen to Bob Marley. I want to say now that I will never forget Carl's friendship. A truer and better friend would be hard to come by. Jimmy Sullivan was beaten to death by a gang of cowards outside of a shitty bar in a shitty town. He was also a good man, and deserved a better end than he received. In May, Miami-Dade police shot and killed my friend Frito Valcin. It had been many years since I had seen him...but his death was no easier for that. A young and very lost man, Zack Frobe, who I knew only from jail died not long before I was released. He was still finding his way in the world...like so many others from this area he succumbed to drugs as a way to deal with his angst. He had a good heart and good humor. Brad Wroblewski...one of the craziest mofos to ever walk this planet passed just a month ago. He was my sponsor when I joined the Brotherhood of Irish Americans, he was my room mate for a time and a friend in my darkest hour. Finally, yesterday Sammy Shultz passed away...another person who couldn't let go of the poison. Sammy was one of those people you meet who is an instant friend...5 minutes or 5 years made no difference. I will remember all of these men fondly in the years to come and celebrate their lives rather than mourn their deaths.

In 1875 William Ernest Henely wrote a poem called Invictus. Invictus means "unbreakable", it has become my personal mantra. I wish to end this note with the poem in it's entirety. In memorial to those who have passed, and as tribute to those of us still in this world who refuse to be broken. 

INVICTUS

Out of the night that covers me,Black as the pit from pole to pole,I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstanceI have not winced nor cried aloud.Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the horror of the shade,And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,How charged with punishments the scroll,I am the master of my fate:I am the captain of my soul.

Diabetic shock? Hit him with the Tazer.

I want to tell a story now. Time has made it blurry...and I do not propose that this is a verbatim account. No, this is simply the incident as I remember it. I am sure everyone involved would have their own version.

At some point last year, I will say after February I was on D-Pod in Butler County Prison. It was, maybe 3 or 4 in the morning when I heard a group of guards come onto the pod.

I heard an extremely odd exchange between one of the Captains and an inmate who I was later told was going through diabetic shock. Here I will paraphrase what I heard:

Capt XXXXX: Whats your problem?

Inmate 1: What? Who are you.

Capt XXXXX: Do you know where you are?

Inmate 1: Where?

Capt XXXXX: You are in Butler County Prison.

Inmate 1: Prison? Here? Can I leave?

Capt XXXXX: No. (calling Inmate 2 by his name) Inmate 2 you are going to need to cuff up.

Inmate 2: Why? I didn't do anything...

(inmate 2 eventually cuffs up and is removed from the cell)

Capt XXXXX: Inmate 2, I am going to need you to cuff up.

Inmate 2: What?

Capt XXXXX: I will not ask you again.

Capt XXXXX to a guard standing by: If he doesn't cuff up, I am going to need you to taze him.

Inmate 2: Razzers?

I will end my account here. Eventually the inmate did cuff up and was removed from the cell and taken to medical. Of course there is protocol to consider...but what would you do in that situation? Is it reasonable to consider Tazing a non violent inmate who is obviously going through some medical issues?

Funny thing...I had actually spoke to the guard that the captain was ordering to taze the inmate if he was not compliant about a month before all this happened. The guard was a nice enough guy, reasonable & professional. I asked him one day. "You seem like a fairly bright guy...what if you came into work one day and you were asked to do something that you considered immoral?" His reply was "Well...I am the sort of guy who follows commands from my superiors, so I would have to do what I was told."

Indeed, you would. This is not maliciousness...it is banality.

think for yourself.

2013 In Review

2013 was a busy year for me. Although the majority was spent in jail, I was able to use that time to expand my knowledge & write. Jail has been an unfortunate part of my reality, and I became determined to not let it be time wasted. It was inspirational to me to find that the prison administrators read my old blog and were unsettled by it. Suddenly it was clear that I need to use my voice, lay out my experience to the public. As mentioned several times, this blog is simply a rough data dump for me...I am working on refining this material for publication.

I was able to further my relationship with my daughters this year. That in itself has been a great experience...I am very proud of them, and who they are becoming. I am truly blessed to have two smart, beautiful, vicious daughters. They are both developing into free thinkers, and I look forward to seeing them rule the world!!

I have been poison free for 20 months. The chemical tether is cut...I have simply lost interest.

Buddhism has been good to me. Through many hours of study and real life application I feel that there has been a breakthrough in understanding. I have always known that we create our own reality, but Buddhism and meditation has given me a structure to do that in. My teacher, Sivali has been a patient and kind teacher and I owe him a deep and sincere gratitude.

New Castle Change has been a great experience for me...I have met a group of people who share the urgency for change that I have known through out life. It is inspirational to be a part of such a good group of people.

I have met some great people this year, too many to name personally, reconnected with some real and true friends and family. For all of you I am eternally grateful.

There has been loss as well and I want to take this opportunity to say that Carl Opperman, Jimmy Sullivan, Big Buddha(Butler, Pa.), Frito Valcin, Zack Frobe and Brad Wroblewski will all be missed. I will remember your lives fondly. Lou Reed & Nelson Mandela...obviously not people I know, will also be remembered for the way that they touched my life through music and political action respectively. Sleep well.

Going into 2014, I hope that everyone is peaceful, happy and well.

Namaste.

Madison Avenue(1988)

She remembers the days before

Before the jealousy, before the pride
Before the stitches, Before tears cried

She remembers the years of life 

years of love, years of pain
years of children gone insane

She sees beyond the cells and scars, 
beyond the fights in midnight bars
beyond the knives, hungry for more
beyond facades and cold steel doors

And through the broken fists and hard times 
When all is said and done...
When the rain washes my tears from her 
cement bosom one more time:
Those street signs will STILL say Madison Ave
And she will remember us, her delinquent children
who came to her for family, love and salvation...

She will remember 1988

17 Deplorable Examples Of White Privilege?

Before reading further please refer to the following "article"
 http://www.buzzfeed.com/michaelblackmon/17-harrowing-examples-of-white-privilege-9hu9

Read it? Very good...let's proceed.

Right off the bat let me say that I will not argue that racism, and further systemic racism do not exist. Of course they do. Racism is bad in any incarnation, it's negative and it is a self perpetuating beast.

I want to address each point of this article, if only to express my personal experience and opinions.

1. Because of white privilege, you’ll never have to worry about becoming the victim of law enforcement officers. 

This first point is well taken, but completely untrue. Please do your own research in the matter, but anyone with unchecked power will abuse it against anyone...I have recently seen video footage of police beating and harassing white men and women, and children...their own children for that matter. Maintaining the idea that whites are somehow immune to police misconduct is counterproductive as it only throw up barriers where there should be bridges.

2. Thankfully, you’ll never have to know what it feels like to see your teenage son’s death being mocked.

This is in reference to some idiot dressing up as Trayvon Martin w/ a bullet wound for Halloween. Of course that entire case is a a prime example of how venal our "legal system" is...and no, I do not know what it is like to have the death of my son mocked; in all fairness neither does the person who wrote the 17 Deplorable Examples of White Privilege article. 

3. Because of white privilege, you’ll never have to inform your children of the harsh realities of systemic racism.

Correct. But no one HAS to do anything. Many families of all cultural backgrounds make their children aware of racism and systemic racism. 

4. White privilege means you can be articulate and well spoken without people being “surprised.”

This is simply untrue. I am told this all the time. I have a record, I am heavily tattoo'd...I gave up my membership card to "the white people club" many years ago...This is one that I take personally, because everything I do is a surprise to people..."Oh, well you are so well spoken/read. I would have never thought that with all those tattoos" This is my day to day life, generally anytime I meet someone new. 

5. Because of white privilege, you’ll never know what it’s like to have the following statistic looming over your head.

I wonder what experience the author has with the correctional industry. I have been on the other side of the wall...I know all too well what it is like to have a statistic looming over my head, as do a lot of working class people.

6. You can wear and act however you’d like without being labeled a thug, low life, gangster, etc.

This point is driven home inthe original article with several pictures of Justin Bieber looking alternately thuggish(Beverly Hills thuggish) and Backstreet Boyish...Ok, I am not going to act like I dont have a sense of humor. I think that the author Michael Blackmon was inserting a little bit of humor here, so yeah...hahaha, it IS funny how celebs can dress however they want. Michael ends the segment by saying "Everyone wants to act black, but no one actually wants to be black" Is there a universal way that all black people act now?

7. White privilege allows you to speak on any particular subject without being the sole representative for your entire race.

Unless the roles are reversed and a white person becomes the minority...which does happen.

8. White privilege means no one questions why you got that really great job; it’s assumed you were just highly qualified.

This sounds good online, but in the real world it isn't that clear cut. What about white women? What about people with disabilities? I am a very "myob" sort of guy...anytime I see ANYONE of any color with a great job I assume they worked hard to get it if it crosses my mind at all; which generally it wouldn't.

9. White privilege means not having to worry about your hair, skin color, or cultural accessories as the reason you didn't get a job.

Because jobs are simply handed out to whites, right? How many unemployed people do you know? I know a lot, of ALL colors. 

10. White privilege means you don’t have to worry about being monitored in a store just because the hue of your skin is a bit darker than most.

In general, I agree with this statement. Again, racism is bad...I think that this type of behavior is small minded and ugly.

11. Having white privilege means people will never label you a terrorist.

I grew up with a couple families of Palestinians. They consider themselves to be Caucasian. There are further points but they would be over kill. 

12. White privilege means not being affected by negative stereotypes that have been perpetuated and ingrained so much into American society that people believe them to be fact.

Sarcasm reads something like this: "No, I have never been personally affected by negative stereotypes."

In case you can't hear it online I am shaking my head and chuckling right now. Silly. Naive. Innocent opinion. Talk to me once you have a couple more years under your belt.

13. White privilege means you never have to explain why cultural appropriation is a bad thing.

Not that I am the spokesperson for any race...my Mom is white, Dad was Spanish. But here is my humble opinion-Who cares? Focus more on yourself. Morons exist...nothing we can do about that. If white people want to wear giant gaudy sombreros on May 5th, go for it. 

 14. White privilege means not having to worry about being stopped and frisked.

I can personally debunk this one...and I have a crew of friends in NYC that can attest that this is simply untrue.

15. If you benefit from white privilege, you’ll never be told to “get over slavery.”

True. Slavery was a wretched act. What more can be said about that?

16. White privilege means that you’re never just your own person.

Here the author points to Nicki Minaj being called the "black Lady Gaga"...I have never heard this comparison, then again I know next to nothing about pop music and mainstream MTV stars. I think our author was running out of steam at this point.

17. Benefiting from white privilege means you can walk the Earth unaware of your color.

This one is a giant stretch. True assumption...being mixed I was constantly aware that I didn't fully fit in anywhere. A couple of Irish guys I grew up with in Cleveland were well aware that they were the only truly white faces for blocks...My mother was very aware that she was the only white person at her job for some years. Sit down with me and exchange stories, ask Ian MacKaye what it was like to be the only white kid at his high school in D.C., ask my friend Scott what it was like to have the only white family in Collinwood, Ohio.

The point of this retort was not to dispute that racism exists, it does; it is an ugly. I think that Michael Blackmon meant well but failed to see that the majority of people in this country are on the receiving end of discrimination...and no one can do anything about it while we remain divided along color lines. There is a powerful excerpt in Howard Zinn's People'S History of the U.S. that I want to cite now. I have to paraphrase here...A slave owner's wife wrote something to this affect in her journal: "More than having to separate the Africans and Irish to avoid violence, we should do well to separate them lest they come together and realize strength in numbers."  Very powerful stuff indeed. Don't do what the system wants you to do...break the color barrier in your own life. 

I want to end this with a quote from Siddhartha Gotama: "Not through hating hatred ceases, in this world of tooth and claw. Love alone from hate releases, this is the eternal law."

Lou Reed March 2, 1942 – October 27, 2013

The first time I remember hearing Lou Reed, I was a resident at the Chestnut Lodge School for Bad Little Bastards and Bastardettes. This would have been 1989/90. At this point I barely listened to anything that was outside of the hardcore/thrash zone...I was a snarky, know it all little shit and I had no tolerance for anything outside of my very small, insulated & isolated world.

I was taking a ride with a staff member, Dale, when he put in a Velvet Underground mixtape. Here I am, listening to this man spew forth poetry set to music...spilling pathos through the speakers. I was an outspoken youth...I remember Dale looking over at me and smiling. He said something to the effect of "This is real rebel music...for when you grow out of your punk faze." I am hearing heroin addiction, guns, transvestites. I am hearing the most beautiful telling of the most horrid tales. Sometime in the next week Dale brought me a copy of the Lou Reed/VU mixtape...and a lifelong appreciation and kinship for and with his music.

I never outgrew my "punk faze"...but I did make room for Lou Reed and his cracked sidewalk anthems in my repertoire. Lou Reed opened my world to Jim Carroll, Patti Smith and Tom Waits. He became my soundtrack...when my first daughter was conceived, it was The Beginning of a Great Adventure, when I was consuming ungodly amounts of coffee on the ghetto streets of Cleveland and writing my ass off I was taking a Walk on the Wild Side, when my youngest daughter was born Sweet Jane was on heavy rotation...and of course when I was shooting poison into my veins, Heroin played on as a testament to those who had built the junkie fraternity and survived.

Lou Reed's music will always be dear to me because Lou Reed was a real person. Lou Reed wrote with such naked honesty that sometimes I felt as if I was listening to someone's diary set to music...something that was not meant to be heard. Lou Reed bared his soul to the world. He was one of the last great outlaw american poets of his generation.

I am not saddened by his death. The man truly lived for his short 71 years...if anything I am glad for him. He deserves to rest well. Thank you for the music, Lou. Your rhythm will be missed. 

"How you doing with this, dude?"

I don't even know what to say right now, I just know that I need to write or I will lose this moment. I am not in the best place ever, not processing these recent deaths with any ease. Brad passing is the 4th death of a close friend in one year. Beginning with Carl o.d.ing, Jimmy being beaten to death, Frito being shot by Miami PD, and now Brad. Death is mundane; as common as being born or breathing. This fact does not make death any easier. 

Mourning death is a selfish thing. I know this. Those departed are free from this world, from it's inherent unsatisfactory nature. Free from the state of affairs which the Vaisnavas so aptly call The Iron Age of Quarrel and Hypocrisy. The departed are gone one way or another from this world; whether you are an atheist or a devout believer-the pain of life is ended. So we mourn because we selfishly want our friend back, we mourn because we didn't get to say something to our departed that we feel we should have said. There was still some adventure to be had with our passed friend or loved one. 

I mentioned a few days ago that I am glad to go through this poison free...I want to feel this pain, every second of it. I am willing to embrace this loss without the luxury of numbness. I think that this is part of life. 

Unbreakable

I call myself unbreakable and I think I deserve to...like in Psalms 69, my enemies number like the hairs on my head. I have survived everything that the world can throw and I am still walking around with my head up. My own personal mantra is the poem Invictus...and it's very meaning can be summed by just one of it's lines: My head is bloody, but unbowed"

I want to use this opportunity to say that surviving, being unbreakable isn't simply a matter of being hard. There is a point, yes, that you must be strong through life...but that's like saying that you must breathe oxygen in life, of course you do. Being unbroken by circumstance means retaining who you are at your core through out it all. At my core being, though I am aloof by nature, I am kind. I am optimistic. I am generous.

To me, if I would allow the events of my life to harden me unreasonably I wouldn't consider myself unbreakable. I am able to have survived what I did without being much different in demeanor than I was before these events. I don't know how...if I did I would freely give away the answer. Like some people like to say..."someone always said what you are trying to say, and they said it better" So here is a quote from Mother Theresa :

Do It Anyway - popularized by Mother Teresa

"People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered; forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you; be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, others may be jealous; be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough; give the world the best you've got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God; It was never between you and them anyway."

Do you regardless of what life throws at you . Be truly unbreakable.

Light & Water

Strange Grey. Retreat. Biscuit. These are the colors that Butler County Prison used to paint and detail it's insides with. Imagine bright florescent lights bouncing off of off white walls all day, 24 hours a day. This is part of the physicality of jail life in Butler County.

I want to talk today about just that, the physical side of jail...I have spent time already covering the very personal side of my own struggles at the jail, my biased opinions and my side of the experience. There is another side to incarceration that cannot be biased, it simply is.

Before going further, I am not someone who is under the illusion that jails should be exactly comfortable...there is discomfort in the so-called free world, and of course the comfort level in jail would be less than that. Naturally, jail will be bare bones necessity.

There are two points that I really want to cover now; the first being light, the second being water.

Light. In Butler County Prison, you are subject to florescent lights 24/7. I am not an optometrist, but I have to think that this is not good for one's eyes. There is a little respite at night when the staff generously turns one of the two lights in your cell off...but after a few minutes, you don't notice. You could comfortable read a book all night in the lighting. The jail actually sites the reasoning behind this is that it makes it easier for guards to count captives at night...as opposed to using their flashlights to look in. First...no one is going anywhere after lock in, counting is arbitrary. Second, if an individual considers using a flash light as hard work, maybe that individual shouldn't work in the corrections industry. Just opinion here...what do I know? In contrast, captives are provided little or no real opportunity to see real sunlight...the rec yard gets a thin ray of light for a short time during the day, and the windows in the cells are frosted to "prevent inmates from signalling free persons". Again, excuse me if my opinion is showing but what kinda chittlins is that? Signalling them for what exactly? An armed escape? A revolt? Laughable.

Water. The keystone of our life. Water in jail is not what most people would consider "drinkin' water". This over chlorinated, recycled water literally tastes like pool water.

Sometimes less is more. I am going to omit needless words and leave it at that. Chlorinated/recycled. Very little sunlight, if any.