Home Sweet Jail
Chapter One: I like Jails
Some people call me “Jailman”. I live in a jail, and I like it that way. At this moment, as I write, it is being done inside of my locked cell. Gritty looking Jails and prisons are beautiful things to me. I can think of nothing better than being kept in heavy chains, imprisoned in a claustrophobic and barren high security cell. So I am just fine with being locked up in this oppressive cell.
I am armed with a sharpened pencil and a few sheets of notebook paper that the guard gave me to use. I am going to write about this place in which I find myself imprisoned. I will write about what led up to this predicament, and along the way I will take a few detours to tell you about my thoughts. You may think that this is merely the ramblings of a madman who is locked in detention, but, before you write me off as totally insane, hear me out.
I am locked up in high security at a county jail, but it’s not what you think. I am not a crook. I didn’t commit any crimes that should have gotten me here. I wanted to be locked up here. Don’t worry if you are confused at this; I will explain it all later. When I tell you the story from the beginning, you may still write me off as crazy. But, insane or just eccentric, please read my book anyway. I want to make a million dollars selling this book; like the authors of, “Gay Kinky Mormon”, and “Shades of Grey”. I don’t know what I will do with the money I get, except to pay my expenses of being incarcerated. Okay, I admit it, I am different than most people.
Have you ever watched a movie and it is advertised as being “based on true events”? I always wonder how much of the story is based on true events and how much isn’t. It is kind of annoying not to know what parts of the story is just fiction. For this book, I am going to do the same annoying thing. It will simplify the story and make it better. So you can trust my book to be about as accurate as “Fox News”. Okay, I exaggerated a bit. I promise to try and make it significantly more accurate than “Fox News”.
The short version of the story is this: I live in a cell in a Jail. I always wanted to be locked up in a cell. It became my quest. I spent years trying to find a way to be able to be imprisoned. And after a long quest, it finally happened. So here I am, locked in a jail cell. What got me here in lock up is a long and convoluted story. I need to start at the very beginning of my story. It all began with a sperm that was swimming up my mom’s vagina…Wait! Maybe I don’t need to start that early. Let’s move forward to my childhood.
From an early age I was fascinated with jails. I was also fascinated by the idea of being locked up and unable to escape. I visited old jails that had been converted into museums whenever I had the chance. I also collected old handcuffs. I remember visiting Colonial Williamsburg with my parents. We saw the old jail with the wooden stocks outside. Lots of tourists were putting themselves in the stocks and taking silly pictures. I wanted to try the stocks, but was too embarrassed by the idea because I actually wanted to be stuck in them. So I stayed quiet about it. When we went into that old dungeon like jail I really thought that it was cool. It was stark and dark. The oppressiveness of it was appealing to me.
Over the years I visited jails and prisons in various places. I saw the famous Alcatraz Prison that sits on an island in San Francisco bay. I visited several jails of the gold rush era in California. I was impressed by the bleakness of Yuma Territorial Prison in Arizona. I toured a dungeon like old jail in Independence Missouri. Anyone who was locked up there in the 1800’s was not only in Missouri, but they were also in Misery. But then again, living in Missouri is misery. Whenever I had the chance, I visited old jails and prisons that had been converted into museums. I found them tough, appealing, and beautiful. I was drawn to them.
I used to watch a show on television when I was a child that was called “The Adams Family”. The “gothic” looking wife was named Mortishia. The twisted husband was named Gomez. The family lived in a house that looked haunted. It had a dungeon and the Adams family found beauty and joy in the things that most people would fear. The dungeon downstairs was particularly interesting. It had various items of torture and restraint, including a rack. They had a few shows where Gomez had Mortishia tied to that rack. As he cranked the wheel pulling her limbs tighter and tighter she would exclaim in a tone of ecstasy, “More, Gomez, more!” I didn’t realize at the time that I was watching a woman have an orgasm on a prime time sit-com of the 1960’s. I mention this show because I think that I am kind of like the characters on the “Adams Family”. I like a lot of the things that would horrify others. To be more specific, I like jails, dungeons, coffins, and anything that is confining. Have you written me off as insane yet? Read on!
Freedom is something that most people in the free world cherish. I think that freedom is a great thing too. The gay, kinky Mormon dude who wrote that popular book didn’t seem to like having freedom. He felt like some people thrived in captivity. Well, actually I agree with him on that point. Like him, I seem to thrive on captivity too. Without having freedom to start with, I couldn’t have given it up to live in captivity.
With freedom you can make the choice to believe and behave in whatever way that you want to, no matter how outlandish it is. You can be who you are. You can choose your job, your religion, your friends, where you want to live, etc.
Freedom is not exactly what the propagandists of politics tell you it is. Freedom is not equally distributed. People’s freedom varies depending on their wealth, race, intelligence, and heritage. If you are born into wealth, you will have a lot more freedom, or perhaps I should call it privilege, than those who were not born into it. People of privilege get more choices of private schools they can attend, neighborhoods they can live in, and many other choices because they can afford it. The very wealthy can buy influence in politics, have expensive lawyers to help them circumvent laws, and tax breaks so that they don’t have to contribute to keeping the government operating and helping the underprivileged.
People born into poverty have to work much harder to get what the wealthy were born into. In the majority of cases, poor people will not be able to get into the same expensive schools or ever rise to the point of making the kinds of money that folks like Mr. Trump make. If they were born to billionaire parents and all given million dollar loans to get a start in life, they might be more successful in getting ahead financially. With the top two percent of Americans owning over fifty percent of the nation’s wealth, it is obvious that we have moved toward being a feudal system. Freedom in America isn’t exactly equal. Okay, it’s not equal at all. But I don’t think you will find anything better.
We were not created equal either. Some of us are smart and others are retarded. Some are sane and others are mentally challenged. Those who were born with mental retardation will probably not experience as much freedom as those who were born brilliant. The smart guys have a lot more choices in what they can do as a job. They could choose to be a scientist, doctor, lawyer, real estate developer, or President. Or, if they really wanted to do it, they could choose to work at McDonalds cleaning the bathrooms. The guy with limited intelligence or mental capacity might only function enough to clean bathrooms. Even though he will work many hours, and harder than many CEO’s, his pay scale will be much lower than the Park Avenue elite. That will limit his choices in life when it comes to housing, schooling, travel, environment, clothing, health care, and all kinds of things. The smart and the wealthy are the privileged people who run the world and they always will be.
I am not proposing any solution to solving the problem of inequality. I am only pointing out the facts. In my opinion, there is no solution. Humans are neither smart nor compassionate enough, to ever solve it. After all, humans still think that the way to solve things is to have the loudest voice and be the biggest bully. Whoever has the most guns, bombs, and money wins in life. If you are one of the underprivileged, you are screwed.
I saw a handsome uniformed Marine in the supermarket pushing his child in a wheelchair. The malformed child, who was strapped in, made involuntary movements of his arms, legs, and head. I thought about that child and his chances at getting ahead in this world. Some people will probably call him a liberal who just wants to live off of entitlements instead of getting off of his ass and finding a job. He deserves to be homeless and on the streets if he isn’t working doesn’t he? Or maybe we can be generous and provide him with just enough money to stay alive, but that is all. We live in a world of selfish and cruel people. Most people think that giving a dollar or two to help the poor, or serving at a soup kitchen once, makes them philanthropic.
Fortunately, I was not born malformed or into poverty. I wasn’t born stupid either. I was born into a middle class home. That means that I was born into moderate privilege. I could not afford to go to a university like Harvard or Yale, but I was able to go to a State University. I got an average education which provided me with the tools and credentials to obtain an average college level job. I am not rich, but, I have been clever enough to make adequate income which provides me an average amount of freedom.
My measured degree of freedom allows me to live the life style of my choice. I am free to live with a man and even marry him if I want to. Most people, who can afford it, would choose to live in as lavish a home as they can. This does not interest me. I am not here on this planet so that I can try and boost my self esteem by owning a larger house than my neighbors. I am happy living in a cell.
The best thing about freedom is that I am free to keep, or give up as much of it as I want to. Bondage is legal in the United States. I can own and use handcuffs in legal ways. I am free to allow my friends to restrain me and lock me up. Giving up freedom is a wonderful thing. I love having my life controlled. It feels good to me to be able to just kick back in my cell, wearing the heavy shackles and irons. I find it both relaxing and exciting. The feeling of being restrained and incarcerated is such an exhilarating, while at the same time, relaxing feeling. But there is more to my love of imprisonment than that. It is just fucking cool to be a prisoner in a jail. I just love it.
You would think that finding a jail that you can live in would be fairly easy to accomplish in America. It was not. Obviously, it would be easy to get to jail by committing a crime, but I believe in obeying the laws. It is very hard for a law abiding citizen to be sent to jail. During my quest to be able to live in a cell, there were hurdles thrown at me every way I turned. Just as Jacob Jenson, the author of “Gay Kinky Mormon” was harassed and discriminated against, being also gay and kinky, I discovered the same thing. I found out that many Americans only believe in first amendment rights when it gives them the freedom to do what they want within their political, religious, and bias belief system. But if anyone comes along who they don’t like, or understand, they will do everything that they can to stomp on your first amendment rights. Some of them might even use their second amendment right to stomp on your first amendment rights. If you are different and unique, watch out!
Well, that has to be the end of the first chapter. I am only allowed to write for a limited time each day, and I have reached that limit. The guard is coming soon and I will be placed in shackles, and taken to my one hour of yard time. So tomorrow I will write chapter two.