Recently in boyhood Category

When Justice Comes Out Perverted

At t=3:50 in this video, Joy asks, "How can it be .. that someone can spend three years in Rikers without being convicted of anything?"

She asks a valid question, no?

A long time ago, a dude named Habakkuk posed a similar question. It seems that some things never change. (You know.)

Julia Willoughby Nason, pictured here below, responds to Joy's question by saying,

"Working on this project I learned that Kalief's story is not unusual. The mass incarceration system in this country is a form of social and economic control .. and it's doing exactly what it's designed to do."

You might want to read that again .. or better yet, listen to her say it herself (at t=4:00).

Notice that she didnt say that incarceration in America was about justice, or that it was about preventing crime .. or even about law and order.

Rather she said that the mass incarceration system in America is about » social and economic control.

If jails and prisons and incarceration were really about justice and law-n-order and preventing crime ..

.. then a bunch of those Wall street fraudsters would be sitting in jail right now .. having wrecked the American economy in order to enrich themselves, and who did so much damage to so many hard-working American families.

But they aint. Why do you think this is? Go ahead and take a guess. I dare you.

Perhaps somebody should ask Larry Summers. I bet that he knows why justice in America comes out perverted.

A poor, black teenager does nothing wrong and he spends 3 years in jail (( with most of that time spent in solitary confinement )) which fucked him up so badly that he eventually killed himself.

While rich, old, white men commit fraud on a scale so vast that it brings the entire economy to the brink of collapse, and ruins the lives of millions of Americans .. and our government runs to their aid with truckloads of money and sympathy.

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The Smart-Ass Karamazov Brother

[ This entry originated » here. ]

» A Smart Motherfucker

I am a smart motherfucker myself .. without even trying to be. My dad told me at least a million times while I was growing up, "Dont be smart."

What he really meant was, "Dont be a smart-ass."

I could definitely be a smart ass. (Because I am so smart.) No doubt about it. Being a smart-ass is part of what got me into trouble with the captain.

Because I am not afraid to toe-up with authority figures when they are fucking up. Particularly when their fucking up is affecting me or mine.

Or did he really not want me to be smart?

My dad was smart, but not educated. My mom told me, "I married your father because he was smart and because he had good teeth."

» Dad vs Fyodor Karamazov

I can confirm that he was smart, but only in a Fyodor Karamazov sort-of-way.

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Motivation and Parental Dysfunction

[ Note » this entry originated from another page. ]

Remind me to talk about motivation .. the kind of motivation that is used to create universes .. like the one that you and I are creating together.

I know quite a bit about the topic of motivation. (At a centurion level, which covers a lot of distance .. social and economic distance. And probably a few other ways, too.)

» My Parents were Counter-Motivational

My parents sucked at motivating me. They actually were counter-motivational. (De-motivating?) Seems difficult to do, I know .. but they somehow managed.

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The Legend of Joe Getty

Rad note » this entry originated from another page. It was moved here because the subject drifted far enough to warrant its own, separate entry.

At the end of this entry (that you're reading now) I have included a link that will return you to the exact spot from where this entry originated. Here ya go ...

» The Legend of Joe Getty

The owner, too, would often join us. He was 28 or 29. And he had lots of sex with the hottest hotties you've ever seen. But I was sworn to secrecy ..

.. cuz of his wife. Who drove a new Corvette. When she wasnt driving the Caddy.

He was an Italian boy, too. Very Italian. Which is probably why he hired Julio. Who was even more Italian.

But the boss was a blond Italian .. and the ladies went ape-shit over him.

He says to me once, "If anybody calls, I'm out on road-test with a customer. I'll be right back."

And he kick-starts the Harley chopper that he kept there at the station as a toy to ride on occasions such as these and this girl in heels and a dress climbs on back.

And she is done up nicely .. eye-catchingly nice. Bright colors.

And off they go on a "road-test". Her dress is blowing up in the breeze. And she has nice legs. Very nice. Nice everything.

They were gone a while. And she looked more than just wind-blown .. when they returned.

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The Hippie and Kerpa (from High School Days)

Rad note » this entry originated from another page. It was moved here because the subject drifted far enough to warrant its own, separate entry.

At the end of this entry (that you're reading now) I have included a link that will return you to the exact spot from where this entry originated. Here ya go ...

» The Hippie

Lance & Egan were the jock crew in high school. But I was working at this gas station 7 days a week.

So my friends just naturally began to revolve around the guys who worked at the station .. which were a 23-year old mechanic (Julio) ..

.. the Italian boy, who all the really hot chicks were hot for. Many stories, yes.

And their friends became my friends. But one of these friends was a dude from my high school class, who we all called "The Hippie" .. (cuz of his long hair).

I loved the Hippie. We actually came together because he was also a good friend of Julio (Bob).

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Rad note » this entry originated from another page. It was moved here because the subject drifted far enough to warrant its own, separate entry.

At the end of this entry (that you're reading now) I have included a link that will return you to the exact place from where this entry originated. Here ya go ...

I grew up with an Egan. He was best friends with Lance, an All-American with hands like glue who lived across the street. Egan took no shit from anybody.

He was not an asshole, but he had an older brother (Richie) who toughened him up.

» Lance & Egan & the Fabulously Ferocious Fastballs

Remind me to tell you my Egan story, about how I threw him the fattest fast-ball you've ever seen during the last game we ever played in Little League.

I pitched for 3 years during Little League and nobody ever hit a home run off me. Ever. But this was the last game of the year, of our Little League careers, and nothing would change no matter who won.

Egan batted second in their line-up. Lance batted third. I had struck out Egan before.

Lance was one home run away from being the home run king that year. Because he was tied with Wojo, who was twice his size.

» I'll Give You 50 Cents

And before the game he was working me to throw him a phatty so that he could claim the title of Home Run King that year (giving him 5 to Wojo's 4), his last year of Little League.

But after thinking about it for a while, I think that Lance was at 4 and one more would tie him with Wojo at 5. But I forget the exact details.

We were standing about halfway between pitcher's mound and home plate. I was facing the 3rd base dugout and they were facing the 1st base dugout.

A proposition to which I agreed, when Lance said, "Come on, I'll give you 50 cents."

Egan was standing there with Lance and wanted in on the same deal.

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