Saturday, August 1, 2009

Chicago Doesn't Lie


I drove through Chicago once. I wasn't impressed, unless you count the burning of my eyes. It felt like the hot smoke of a cigarette rolling up my cheek searching for the pupil. You can't do anything except wince tightly and try to finish something inconsequential but urgent. You sure as fuck won't spit the cigarette out of your clenched teeth, but you can swear you're not addicted, or curse through them.

I'd gotten used to the smell of manure sixty miles out of New Jersey. I'd been confined there and in my mother's fears my whole life and I'm still not so sure yet which was which. I thought it was awful – the bullshit, that is, and then I got used to it. Now I long for it as Chicago's skyscrapers penetrate the horizon and I'm gravitationally limited to running flat on Route 80 West, listening to a band I'll be embarrassed of twenty years later. I can't wait to get Chicago in the rear view mirror, which my eyes seem so reluctant to leave. Everything's closer than it appears, even through a film of nicotine. I long to breathe manure again and tell myself it's fresh air.

Twenty years later, I'm still confined but at least I can't remember the name of that band. I'm still embarrassed though.

Now, Chicago comes to me, driving through me, speaking truths I'll never understand because I can't even see the world through my own eyes. So I'll just borrow his for a while and wonder how one of them got dotted – talking smack? talking about smack? – which cleverly disguises his ruin under David Lynch skies.

I didn't stay in Chicago, I only passed through. Thirty minutes, limit to limit. The smog choking me like a misinformed lover who thinks I get off on it. I tell her to stop but secretly my mind's timid voice begs her to keep hurting me.

Now, Chicago stays with me, haunting me like something I shouldn't have done yet relishing every moment I was doing it. He was at least brave enough to fuck his life up aggressively while I did my own in buying expensive patio furniture on over-extended credit cards and her promise of "I'll never to it again."

When I got back from that cross-country trip, all I found was an anonymous houseful of unfamiliar classmates and the realization that all roads out of Jersey require a toll. Through an atmosphere of whiskey, they speak amiably to each other about their futures, and I feel alienated. My post high-school plans consisted of 8500 miles of interstate ending at the Cape May-Lewes Ferry with nothing but a friend I'd never see again and a half tank of gasoline. We're not the Blues Brothers.

I want to slash my wrists but my mother'd be pissed, not to mention ashamed. Some things are too immense to sweep under the rug in one slashing. I'm not so sure how my father would feel – one hand of his laid out the route I'd just traveled while the other denied the very DNA I didn't have the guts to spew all over someone's kitchen.

Instead, I see the scar of compromise on my left thumb print twenty years later. It makes as much sense to me as a Jackson Pollock painting and almost as expensive.

Thirty minutes later, Chicago's finished inducing opium-like dreams of a desert I passed through two decades earlier. I wish I could reminisce about kicking the nagging corpse of some love-struck whore out the passenger side of my '78 Chevy Nova. Instead, the corpse was driving, flicking cigarettes out the window at a 15 year old hitchhiker wearing an unwashed Led Zepplin t-shirt who made the same trip three years earlier and decided to stay.

I don't know why they call it the Windy City. The air hangs around it like chronic halitosis. Wind would be like a much welcome Tic-Tac. Still, I breathe deep, inhaling toxins that'll eventually metastasize and encroach on my shame. Honestly – I wonder if that's what shooting up feels like.

The thin line of mismatched swirl pattern on the fingerprint card reminds me that – when it comes to life and poetry – choose a vital spot and cut deep. Don't worry about the mess or who you'll piss off, you won't be around to clean it up. Chicago would agree.

Chicago doesn't lie.

Monday, July 6, 2009

SO to speak...

I felt that my success in society is directly proportionate to the collective mental health of that society. It is not about some parole board’s interpretation of me or some parole officer’s standards of success.

External change is always cosmetic, and therefore impermanent. I seek, and to some degree already have achieved, a level of internal change that qualifies me as no longer being a risk to society. I have found, however, that society may very well pose a serious risk to me and that a parole officer, who is under the delusion that he or she may be acting in the best interest of that society, may have standards of success that are contrary to the state of mental health I’ve achieved independent of them. I have no interest in conforming to a society that is bent on need, speed and greed and values punishment over healing.

But that’s just me. I cannot and would not presume to speak for all offenders. That being said, you cannot expect a significant percentage of inmates to reflect on their own behavior when the society to which they’ve been born, grown and drew their examples and conclusions from is a society that is bankrupt of self-reflection, forgiveness and cultural nurturing.

Nothing this commission does will produce any lasting, wide-sweeping change because they are operating from incorrect assumptions based mostly in fear and the need to control, the pretense of control, the image of control. When they, and indeed society, realizes they’ve no more to fear from previous offenders as they do from future offenders (those who haven’t offended but in some way will), they will shift their focus from those parts and products of society who’ve already deviated from their collective standards of ethics and direct that focus towards the causes of those deviations. The reason that is not the current aim is that such a conclusion presents a strong case against that society they so desperately need to consider normal, just and moral.

Put all your effort into ELIMINATING those aspects of society that cause these deviations and not only will you solve the problem of crime, you will have also invariably solved the question of what to do with your current prison population problem – which should be more of a question of how to TREAT those members of society who’ve already offended (AT ANY AND EVERY LEVEL).

One step in that direction might be to remove the responsibility of this whole issue from the hands of those who relish nothing but doling out more harm to satisfy the basest of human impulses , revenge; the politicians, lawyers, fear mongers, and control freaks – and place that responsibility into the hands of those who actually study society (as opposed to the law); sociologists.

After all, you’re relying on a restructuring of a system that’s been ineffective since the dawn of time. It is only considered a higher, more sophisticated and civilized system because it replaced corporeal punishment with incarceration. What hasn’t been replaced is the motivation behind the enactment of such justice. That is why no one can agree with the length of a befitting sentence and why we’ll always run into attitudes of “keep those sons-of-bitches locked up.” No amount of time will ever feel right, and you might be better off returning to corporeal punishment. Just ask Tim Masters. Albert Einstein said, “madness is repeating the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” That applies to politics as much as science, and indeed, life itself.

Change your thinking and you allow yourself the possibility of arriving at a more practical, highly viable and stronger, longer lasting solution. Your other option is to keep with the same-old-same- old – just be willing to accept the same-old-same-old.

If we are willing to search out, discriminate, isolate and carve out the antagonism, avarice, physical and non-physical violence, and fear absorbed by the porosity of hypocrisy that permeates our society at the smallest of our actions, we will invariably have conquered it in the largest of our actions. So long as we perpetuate the “pretend normal” on the grandest of scales, we will see it at the cellular level of our culture – the individual human being.

If our wars are for oil, then let us just say it’s for oil and admit the greed of certain industries and the inability of society to disengage from its pampered way of life which made such a war necessary – and we’d be much better off.

When we admit that there are certain members of society that are above the law, the athlete, the actor, the politician, the aristocrat, we’ll live in truth and dispel the delusion of equality. If global warming is the result of our collective carbon footprint but we’re far too financially dependent and environmentally indifferent to make instant and immediate effective change, then let’s own it.

I’m not blaming my offense on the war in Iraq, the exaltation of a small percentage of society to sacred-cow status, or the runaway causes of climate change. But I am saying that a society that collectively promotes and supports blatant hypocrisy – a national state of 'pretend normal' – can expect the same at its cellular level. And just like global warming, you can choose to pretend that one has nothing to do with the other all the way up until you or someone you love is a victim of crime or a perpetrator of it, or you can choose to do something about it. Considering how America has dealt with its other problems, I’m guessing we’ll choose the former.

At that point, you can committee this issue right up to the point where every family has a loved one in prison, one in ‘treatment,’ and one in victim recovery. Only then will you realize how connected we all are. And only then will you see the system’s ineffectiveness, but also how it is part of a way of life that contributes to the very behaviour it attempts to condemn, refute, chasten and prevent.

I don’t expect everyone to get all “kum-by-yah” over this, but hopefully it has sparked an interest to be a bit more reflective. What is it about the behaviour and attitude of offenders that truly bothers you? Frightens you? Sickens you? Can it all be melted down and isolated to a single element, a common or broad conclusion? And can that conclusion be applied to most, if not all parts of our society? Could it be that we’ve all, collectively and perhaps individually, from the smallest to the grandest of scales, blurred the line between ‘want’ and ‘need.” That goes for punishment as well as crime.

I arrived at these conclusions for myself – as it applies to me and the experience of my life. It is the present summation of all I’ve been through and all I’ve put others through. And I get the nagging sense that I could not be alone in this corruption of the mind. Perhaps there is something in me that needs to believe that. Either that, or I am correct in my assumptions which would make society just as indictable.

Don’t assume that it is my intention to blame society – that’s the justice system’s shtick; I’ve been on the shit end of it and suffered – cruelly you might say – from its punishment. It is, however, my intention to promote healing instead of blame, for myself and for that society to which I was born, grew up in, and drew my examples and conclusions from.

Healing is a solution that is beneficial to both the victims and offenders in this world. If that is what this society values, then its method of justice will reflect those values. Currently, there is serious lack of evidence to suggest anything remotely to that. There is enough evidence to strongly suggest something to the contrary. It may seem absurd to have this come from the mouth of an offender – but that’s because you see me as such and not for what I really am – a human being that has experienced suffering – from the receiving, and regretfully from the giving end as well. I have come to the wisdom, like most, through my own failure as a human being. Having been through it, having reflected on it and having made a conclusion, I find it ironic that it is I that has strong doubts about the society to which I’ll return, rather than vice-versa.
"The percent likelihood of a society becoming physically violent if it is physically affectionate towards its infants and tolerant of premarital sexual behavior is 2 percent. The probability of this relationship occurring by chance is 125,000 to one. I am not aware of any other developmental variable that has such a high degree of predictive validity. "

…James W. Prescott

"When the only tool you own is a hammer, every problem begins to resemble a nail."

…Abraham Maslow

"The problems that exist in the world today cannot be solved by the level of thinking that created them."

…Albert Einstein

"The greatest strength is gentleness."

…Iroquois proverb

"Any intelligent fool can make things more complex and more violent. It takes a genius to move in the opposite direction."

…E.F. Schumacher