Letters from the Inside, Thomas Bart Whitaker, #10

[Check out his latest blog entry: www.minutesbeforesix.blogspot.com]

Dear Kelly,

Well, I am relieved to hear that the dreaded swine flu has departed for whatever third-world cesspool it spawned in (Alaska, apparently), and that you are feeling much better. So far, we are managing to avoid that particular pandemic, which is fortunate because UTMB has already stated that they have no intention of paying the cost for the two drugs known to be effective in combating H1N1. Alas, the pandemic of smug idiots is still ravaging us unmercifully: the Muslims are nearly insufferable in this regard, going on and on about how all of this proved that heaven indeed hates ham. If I had the ability, I would gorge myself on BLTs and Jack Daniels in the dayroom, wearing a t-shirt which states, "For Every Pig You Don't Eat, I Will Eat Three." Of all of the animals that should have missed the mythical ark, pigs have to be way down on the list. Far lower than Noah himself, at any rate.

Anyways, its 430 in the bloody ante meridien, and I haven't slept in two days. I've always had a touch of insomnia, but sometimes it comes on with a vengeance. Not really sure why. At least it is quiet at this hour, which is rarity. Our cells are sufficiently distant from each other that in order to have a conversation with your neighbor, you must shout. This gets very annoying, as you can no doubt imagine. I buy a lot of earplugs. The response to the psych report has been highly elucidating. To be honest, it really wasn't all that unpleasant to post the thing, because there is a massive difference between the man that was, and the human being that I am now. I was incredibly amused by the whole "bi" issue for a number of reasons. First off, I am not "bi" or "gay," that was all the result of this psychologist being obsessed with the idea that I must have been molested as a child. he would take whatever comment was discussed, and then run it through the filter of his Freudian nonsense, and out popped the results. You have to understand an additional point: in the South in general, and in Texas in particular, if you are accepting of gays, this means that you ARE gay, in the minds of the rednecks. I've never cared what two people choose to do with each other, so long as they are both there by choice. Period. I could have edited all of that stuff out of the report, but I decided that it would be useful in seeing who my real friends were. I have actually had people tell me that they no longer want to write me anymore, and I don't suppose I have to tell you that such people will not be missed. Also, its been something of test for myself. I've always told myself that I didn't care about the homosexuality issue, and there is this very hetero/manly desire in me to run out there and shout, "I'm not gay, you idiots!" If I can resist doing this, though, I truly prove to myself that my progressive ideals are firmly rooted, and not simply a desire to be trendy. Most importantly, however, is the fact that for all of my life I cared what EVERYONE thought about me on EVERY issue, and now...well now the only judge that matters is myself. So if the world wants to think something, what of it? The world is largely populated by cretins, and I will not allow their pathetic attempts at judgement to hurt me any longer. I can look in the mirror, and that is more important to me.

Haha, yes, I do suppose the ED issue was a little more accurate, but I will say that I was putting about an ounce of crystal meth into my body every week, and that tends to have that effect. I'm not proud of that, but we all ultimately gravitate towards the things which make us feel more comfortable in our skin.

Meth made me feel even-keeled and capable, and allowed me to do the things that I needed to do. My whole family (minus me, of course) took ADD drugs, which are really just legal speed, for the same reasons. It helped them feel more like the person that they felt was needed. I am not proud of this, but I am certain that I would have killed myself in high school if it were not for illegal drugs. Maybe that would have been best, but that is a conclusion that I have come to thanks ot the clarity of hindsight. I didn't know what would happen later. Anyway. The recommendations of the doctor have not been listened to by the psych department here. The only drugs they are going to give me are psychotropics like lithium or haldol, which are designed to make zombies of men. They have my body, my life. They will not have my mind. That is mine, and they will have to kill me before they have any claim on my will. All of that psych stuff would have been required in most states in a capital murder trial. Not in Texas. They gleefully kill men on a monthly basis who have diseases which make them constitutionally unkillable, but they are never diagnosed. That is simply the way things are. If you knew about half of the shady shit that went down in my trial, you would be appalled. That is not really here nor there, though. The report was a portion of my writ of habeus corpus, which may affect my sentence, in that it might grant me a new punishment phase. Don't hold your breath. The CCA really doesn't care about such things. You asked what my Dad felt about the reporter, and I do not know. The last time we talked about my state habeus, he commented that he didn't think he would read it. It is hard for him to see the injustice in all of this, I think, because he has ultimately supported the right all of his life. (And, I might add, still does, though I think I have managed to moderate him a little. In his defense, I don't think he was ever one of those believers who felt that liberals were the spawn of Satan, which is good because I have become a pretty radical socialist.)

Don't worry about the misunderstanding regarding posting my letters. Probably my fault. It just surprised me a little, for the reasons I listed in my last letter. On that note: Howdy to all of the extra eyes reading this. Sorry this is not more interesting. I secretly think Kelly is using me as filler to make her own writing more exceptional looking. :) It is ultimately very important to understand one's place in the universe, no?

That clip you sent me from urbanbaby.com blog (jesus f-ing christ, what will they come up with next?) pretty much proved my point about Greshams Law being alive and well on the internet. That there are people with sufficient free-time on their hands to even bother populating a site like this makes me whish that the delusions of the eschatologists were in fact really coming to pass. I've never hit a woman in my life, but these people need some sort of shocking event in their lives to snap them out of this idiocy. (Although I admit I did find it amusing that Debussy and Duchamp got somehow switched about.) Somewhat less entertaining was the page of comments on the effect Mr. Madoff and his bit of infamy had on their lives. Very sad, although I still believe that only a food is ever really shocked and surprised by anything which happens in this world. My heart goes out to those people, nonetheless. I would gladly trade places with him, though, as federal prisons have about a million more luxuries than we are allowed.

Not much going on around here, as usual. We came off a lockdown two weeks ago. There was no stated reason for this lockdown, so it wasn't something specific like the cell phone mess.

They do this every six months, to track down contraband and to vent all of the mean, piggy instincts they manage to mainly keep under wraps the rest of the year. The wielding of arbitrary power is a very potent drug, Kelly and they are loathe to part with it. It is true that random beatings have become somewhat more rare than they once were, but I am confident that this has less to do with any changes in the l aw and in some form of ethical evolution, and everything to do with the fact that the guards themselves have grown fatter, lazier and less capable of doing physical damage to any of us. You will NEVER see a pig take on a con by himself. Its always done in groups. 30 years ago, those groups consisted of 4 or 5 guards, which was all that was necessary. Now, they need more, and they always wear their goon suits and wield their shields. They won't even rush a prisoner uncles he has been coated in CS/CN gas first. I have chosen to make physical violence anathema to me (save for the obvious situation of self-defense), but it is hard for me to say that other men choose the same, as some are picked on and harassed by the system for years. We are all of us just mammals, and if you prod any mammal hard enough, they are going to explode eventually.

What's new in NYC? Made it to the pool yet? Did you end up hoping on stage for that Moth Story Slam on Achilles Heels? I hope that you got picked, and that you enjoyed it. I still say that I could never do something like that. Some flowers just prefer the shade, some the spotlight.

I went to the clinic yesterday here on the unit, to use the video-conferencing equipment. I was supposed to speak with one of the surgeons who operated on me, but it didn't work out as planned. The X-Ray tech here at Polunsky took off for a month, so the doctor got pissed that we were wasting his precious time scheduling a consult without even bothering to get a film made. "Excuse me, nurse, what was your name? Ok, Nurse X, do you see these spectacles? Do they appear to have any magical X-Rayin' properties? No? Then I guess that MEANS I CAN"T SEE HIS DAMNED BONES FROM HERE!!!" He went on like this for about 90 seconds, during which time I could not resist smiling. I mean, how long have I been complaining that these people were criminal in the way we are treated? Its nice to be vindicated, even fi it is only by a fellow employee of the Beast.

All right, I guess I'm going to try to get some sleep. I feel like I can maybe pull it off, but I've felt like this before, only to end up staring at the ceiling for a few hours. I hope that this finds you well, and are still considering my offer to use you as an Anti-Palin device, considering the superhuman powers you developed on your trip up north. Until next time,

Thomas