Coming Full Circle
I don't remember my first Christmas in prison, in particular. What
stands out for me are visits that I received around the holidays; one
moreso than the others to date. It was the first visit I had with my Mom
while I was housed at Unit 32.
Until the last couple of years Unit 32 was open, there were no contact visits allowed because it was a maximum security facility where death row and high risk prisoners were housed. When I had my first visit there with my Mom, they only allowed us one hour and we had to communicate via telephone, separated by security glass. Before that I had been housed at Unit 17, which is a much smaller unit - 60 prisoners compared to approximately 1,000. A big change for me and my family.
Until the last couple of years Unit 32 was open, there were no contact visits allowed because it was a maximum security facility where death row and high risk prisoners were housed. When I had my first visit there with my Mom, they only allowed us one hour and we had to communicate via telephone, separated by security glass. Before that I had been housed at Unit 17, which is a much smaller unit - 60 prisoners compared to approximately 1,000. A big change for me and my family.
This visit
was in December and Mom was telling me what they'd been doing. Mom
always fills me in on what my younger brother and sister have been up
to. Leah was 3 years old, just getting old enough to really enjoy
Christmas, and Tommy was excited. They had been given some early
Christmas "happy," including these hollow plastic candy canes filled
with M&M's. Tommy had been eating his candy and it was almost empty.
Leah had only eaten a few of her M&M's. Seeing that Tommy only had a
few left, she opened her container, then opened his and- being careful
not to spill any- poured half her M&M's into Tommy's container.
I couldn't help it. I cried. Some tough prisoner I am, eh? This December promises to be memorable, too. I hope to soon meet my nephew for the first time. I left my sister when she was a baby, and now I get to meet her baby. That will be a Christmas present to remember.
I couldn't help it. I cried. Some tough prisoner I am, eh? This December promises to be memorable, too. I hope to soon meet my nephew for the first time. I left my sister when she was a baby, and now I get to meet her baby. That will be a Christmas present to remember.
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| Merry Christmas from our little Marcus! |
Wishing you all Happy Holidays. Take care, stay safe, and don't take your loved ones for granted. We thank all of you for your support and for caring. Love and light to you all.
Wasted Youth
When I came in the system, I was always the youngest prisoner around
with few exceptions, until I was shipped off to Walnut Grove Youth
Correctional Facility in 2001. Often people wouldn't know how young I
was unless I told them, and then they thought I was joking. Fifteen
years later there is no "youth correctional facility" and I am around
young guys (who are around my brother's age) coming into this system.
It's an odd experience.
In prison, when you start associating closely with people, giving them advice when they ask for it or if you get them out of a problem... you become responsible for them. And having been locked up so young, I still don't see myself as the "old convict" these youngsters view me as. I have had to let my guard down a bit to associate with them and it is taking some readjusting on my part.
A couple of them in particular are lighthearted and upbeat, which I encourage. In prison, anything that might be slander against someone's "manliness" is avoided and considered disrespectful. These two joke about each other and it's no big deal. It's no-holds barred - gender, sexual preference, whatever. I overheard one say to the other, "Bitch, I need a hug." I couldn't help but laugh because I knew he was playing, but he wasn't. And no, neither one of these youngsters are gay.
I worry, though. I remember when I was at WGYCF, when guards and staff would comment that I smiled so much. After ten years of being harassed, moved from cell to cell every week around prisoners with mental illnesses that weren't being treated... I stopped smiling so much. It took me awhile to come back from that bitterness, but I've become even more introverted due to my experiences. Guys have commented that my face doesn't show emotions, that I always look calm. A lot of that is due to meditation, but prison has trained me to be less outwardly expressive. I worry that prison will affect these young guys as it has affected me.
I will probably be writing more about these kids in the near future, so brace yourself. They aren't politically correct. They don't care if it upsets you or if you're offended. Actually, that would amuse them no end. It's like being around a couple of Howard Sterns in training, so shocking people is always a plus for them.
Just a reminder: If you have a loved one in prison, the holidays are difficult. Support them as you can, and I hope they'll reciprocate. If you are reading this and are only involved on the fringes, send some prisoners a card and let them know they are not forgotten. They will appreciate it.
In prison, when you start associating closely with people, giving them advice when they ask for it or if you get them out of a problem... you become responsible for them. And having been locked up so young, I still don't see myself as the "old convict" these youngsters view me as. I have had to let my guard down a bit to associate with them and it is taking some readjusting on my part.
A couple of them in particular are lighthearted and upbeat, which I encourage. In prison, anything that might be slander against someone's "manliness" is avoided and considered disrespectful. These two joke about each other and it's no big deal. It's no-holds barred - gender, sexual preference, whatever. I overheard one say to the other, "Bitch, I need a hug." I couldn't help but laugh because I knew he was playing, but he wasn't. And no, neither one of these youngsters are gay.
I worry, though. I remember when I was at WGYCF, when guards and staff would comment that I smiled so much. After ten years of being harassed, moved from cell to cell every week around prisoners with mental illnesses that weren't being treated... I stopped smiling so much. It took me awhile to come back from that bitterness, but I've become even more introverted due to my experiences. Guys have commented that my face doesn't show emotions, that I always look calm. A lot of that is due to meditation, but prison has trained me to be less outwardly expressive. I worry that prison will affect these young guys as it has affected me.
I will probably be writing more about these kids in the near future, so brace yourself. They aren't politically correct. They don't care if it upsets you or if you're offended. Actually, that would amuse them no end. It's like being around a couple of Howard Sterns in training, so shocking people is always a plus for them.
Just a reminder: If you have a loved one in prison, the holidays are difficult. Support them as you can, and I hope they'll reciprocate. If you are reading this and are only involved on the fringes, send some prisoners a card and let them know they are not forgotten. They will appreciate it.
Under the Dome
More often than not I read nonfiction instead of fiction, though I enjoy
both. Recently I have read a few novels to pace myself and take a break
from my studies. I am currently reading Stephen King's "Under the
Dome." Some of you might be familiar with the TV series based on this
book. As is to be expected, there are a few differences between the two,
but I always prefer the book, personally.
The Dome's environment is something I can understand. It's a prison. Being incarcerated is comparable to how the inhabitants of Chester's Mill, Maine felt when the Dome fell. You wake up in a different world. The rules have changed. Learn fast or suffer the consequences. Put a group of people under constant stress and things come out that you wouldn't believe they would be capable of - good and bad. People clique-up for strength and safety. The pecking order is in full effect and leaders are self-appointed by the rule of brute strength and ruthlessness.
Don't worry. I'm not going to spoil the book for you. Think about the situation, though. How do you keep a group of people that have been unwillingly cut off from the the rest of the world from devolving into chaos and savagery? I am not finished with the book, but I look forward to learning how Stephen King handles the situation. Will he be spot-on? Or will he rely on some deus ex machina to save the day?
There are a lot of people who immediately shy away from anything associated with Stephen King. I was exposed to his novels from an early age and took comfort in the worlds he created when I began to read those books after I was incarcerated. "The Stand" is still one of my favorites, and is a classic. At the heart of his work, King shows us that we each have our own story and that we all have a mixture of the hero and of the monster in us. No matter how outlandish some of the stories might seem, King is a realist.
How well do you think you would deal with living under the Dome?
The Dome's environment is something I can understand. It's a prison. Being incarcerated is comparable to how the inhabitants of Chester's Mill, Maine felt when the Dome fell. You wake up in a different world. The rules have changed. Learn fast or suffer the consequences. Put a group of people under constant stress and things come out that you wouldn't believe they would be capable of - good and bad. People clique-up for strength and safety. The pecking order is in full effect and leaders are self-appointed by the rule of brute strength and ruthlessness.
Don't worry. I'm not going to spoil the book for you. Think about the situation, though. How do you keep a group of people that have been unwillingly cut off from the the rest of the world from devolving into chaos and savagery? I am not finished with the book, but I look forward to learning how Stephen King handles the situation. Will he be spot-on? Or will he rely on some deus ex machina to save the day?
There are a lot of people who immediately shy away from anything associated with Stephen King. I was exposed to his novels from an early age and took comfort in the worlds he created when I began to read those books after I was incarcerated. "The Stand" is still one of my favorites, and is a classic. At the heart of his work, King shows us that we each have our own story and that we all have a mixture of the hero and of the monster in us. No matter how outlandish some of the stories might seem, King is a realist.
How well do you think you would deal with living under the Dome?
They were more than MDOC numbers...
In most parts of the world, the beginning of November marks the time when we
slow down and focus on the dead, on how fragile life is, and we wonder what
awaits us after we the earthly chapter of our existence ends.
Here in Poland, we visit graves of our loved ones, and we light candles- a
tradition which dates back to the pagan days- bonfires were meant to warm up
souls wandering among those still alive.
It has always been my favorite holiday- when I feel so close to the Absolute
and to the mystery of transitions in life. The figures of crying angels, the
dates on the tombs and a question without answer- why something has to end? I remember
stopping by graves of people I did not know and I tried to imagine their life…
that was my tribute to them… to think of them, to remember them, even if they
were strangers to myself.
This is the time when it strikes me the most that we all are nothing but dust in
the wind…
And even the great ones are gone at some point. Writers, singers, scientists,
activists, good people whom the human kind owes a lot. Newspapers and magazines
print their stories to make sure they are not forgotten. That we spare a minute
of prayer or a minute of silence to honor their lives.
Yet, there are millions of stories that are never published. Each person
had their story, and each of them might have meant the world to someone,
although for the world they might not seem important. Some of them the world
decided to forget while they were still alive, and then taking it even a step
further and getting rid of them… Here I have in mind inmates executed in the
name of justice… You can lynch me for that, but I believe that those men and
women were more than numbers they had on their prison IDs and they were more
than the crimes they had committed… They had mothers, they had wives, they had
children. Perhaps some of them, perhaps all, were guilty of what they had been
convicted of. Does it matter now, though? I still want to remember them because
who am I to judge?
I asked Steven to write a few words about the men he had met in Parchman’sUnit 32. Here are his short obituaries for those whom most of the world does
not want to remember. But we will. They will be in our prayers and in our
thoughts.
John B. Nixon, Sr., executed on 12-14-2005 - We called him Mr. Nixon, and he was always respectful,
if distant. He spent two decades waiting to be executed.
Bobby G. Wilcher, executed on10-18-2006- "Big Bob" had an appetite for noodles and cheese puffs as big as his sense of humor.
Earl W. Berry, executed on 05-21-2008- A victim of our justice system. He was mentally retarded and should not have been executed.
Dale L. Bishop, executed on 07-23-2008- I spent quite a bit of time around "Bart" and you definitely shouldn't judge a book by its cover. He was a music aficionado without peer and never ceased to amaze me.
Paul E. Woodward, executed on 05-19-2010- Used to laugh uncomfortably when I would imitate his voice to confuse other guys on the tier.
Joseph D. Burns, executed on 07-21-2010- "JoJo" was from the area I grew up in, and that was something we had in common. He was the last person I saw escorted out to be executed and he was at peace with his Creator when he went. He'd had a spiritual experience before he was taken to be executed.
Larry Matthew Puckett, executed on 03-20-2012- One of the most intelligent people I have met in prison. Minded his own business, but would stand up for others when needed.
Henry Curtis Jackson, executed on 06-05-2012- One of the first guys on the row I met, causing me to re-evaluate my preconceived notions of them.
Jan Michael Brawner, Jr, executed on 06-06-2012.- My big bro. Loved his family and was always concerned about them. Had one of the loudest bellows I'd ever heard when he needed to get someone's attention.
Gary Carl Simmons, executed on 06-20-2012- Told me to hold on to hope and not give up when things seem to be at their worst.
Bobby G. Wilcher, executed on10-18-2006- "Big Bob" had an appetite for noodles and cheese puffs as big as his sense of humor.
Earl W. Berry, executed on 05-21-2008- A victim of our justice system. He was mentally retarded and should not have been executed.
Dale L. Bishop, executed on 07-23-2008- I spent quite a bit of time around "Bart" and you definitely shouldn't judge a book by its cover. He was a music aficionado without peer and never ceased to amaze me.
Paul E. Woodward, executed on 05-19-2010- Used to laugh uncomfortably when I would imitate his voice to confuse other guys on the tier.
Joseph D. Burns, executed on 07-21-2010- "JoJo" was from the area I grew up in, and that was something we had in common. He was the last person I saw escorted out to be executed and he was at peace with his Creator when he went. He'd had a spiritual experience before he was taken to be executed.
Larry Matthew Puckett, executed on 03-20-2012- One of the most intelligent people I have met in prison. Minded his own business, but would stand up for others when needed.
Henry Curtis Jackson, executed on 06-05-2012- One of the first guys on the row I met, causing me to re-evaluate my preconceived notions of them.
Jan Michael Brawner, Jr, executed on 06-06-2012.- My big bro. Loved his family and was always concerned about them. Had one of the loudest bellows I'd ever heard when he needed to get someone's attention.
Gary Carl Simmons, executed on 06-20-2012- Told me to hold on to hope and not give up when things seem to be at their worst.
President Obama and Changes
Imagine this for a moment... You're on your way home. It's dark out and
raining, and you just want to get inside, eat supper, relax after a long
day. You happen to spot someone you don't recognize walking behind the
homes of your neighbors, taking their time and looking at the houses.
There have been eight burglaries, nine thefts and one shooting in your
community during the last twelve months. Would you be suspicious of this
person walking around in your neighborhood, in the dark, in the rain,
behind your neighbors' homes? Probably so. Is it profiling? Of course it
is. It's also common sense.
By now I'm sure you realize I'm referring to incidents similar to the night Trayvon Martin was killed. Understand from the outset that I do not think this young man deserved to die. What happened was terrible no matter how you look at it. There are only two people who know for certain what happened that night, and one of them is dead. The reason I am writing about this is because of what I see happening behind the scenes and how these things are being used to tear our nation apart. Instead of attempting to unify the country, President Obama has done nothing but cause more division.
Let us say that things had happened differently. Let's say that it had been the young man President Obama identifies with, saying, "If I had a son, he would look like Trayvon"...let's say it was Trayvon that had the gun. Zimmerman follows him, jumps him and gets shot by Trayvon. No hue and cry would have been raised. Open and shut case. In Florida, 17 year old Trayvon would have spent a good portion -if not the rest- of his life in prison. Why isn't President Obama interested in that? Why doesn't he want to reform juvenile justice or talk about reform and rehabilitation for troubled youth? You know why not? Because he doesn't care. It doesn't touch his life directly and doesn't affect those he loves, so he doesn't care. He isn't any different in that than most people.
When President Obama was sworn into office, people had hopes that he would bring about positive change. He didn't promise that, though. He just said "change". Instead I've only seen and read and heard about changes that have been harmful to our nation and people. "Trayvon Martin could have been me 35 years ago," the President said. Mr. Barak Hussein Obama, I think the United States of America would be in a better position if that had been the case.
So, if you see someone walking around in your neighborhood, in the dark, in the rain, where they aren't supposed to be...don't worry. It's just President Obama. He's looking for that change he promised. I will leave you with a quote from the Declaration of Independence:
By now I'm sure you realize I'm referring to incidents similar to the night Trayvon Martin was killed. Understand from the outset that I do not think this young man deserved to die. What happened was terrible no matter how you look at it. There are only two people who know for certain what happened that night, and one of them is dead. The reason I am writing about this is because of what I see happening behind the scenes and how these things are being used to tear our nation apart. Instead of attempting to unify the country, President Obama has done nothing but cause more division.
Let us say that things had happened differently. Let's say that it had been the young man President Obama identifies with, saying, "If I had a son, he would look like Trayvon"...let's say it was Trayvon that had the gun. Zimmerman follows him, jumps him and gets shot by Trayvon. No hue and cry would have been raised. Open and shut case. In Florida, 17 year old Trayvon would have spent a good portion -if not the rest- of his life in prison. Why isn't President Obama interested in that? Why doesn't he want to reform juvenile justice or talk about reform and rehabilitation for troubled youth? You know why not? Because he doesn't care. It doesn't touch his life directly and doesn't affect those he loves, so he doesn't care. He isn't any different in that than most people.
When President Obama was sworn into office, people had hopes that he would bring about positive change. He didn't promise that, though. He just said "change". Instead I've only seen and read and heard about changes that have been harmful to our nation and people. "Trayvon Martin could have been me 35 years ago," the President said. Mr. Barak Hussein Obama, I think the United States of America would be in a better position if that had been the case.
So, if you see someone walking around in your neighborhood, in the dark, in the rain, where they aren't supposed to be...don't worry. It's just President Obama. He's looking for that change he promised. I will leave you with a quote from the Declaration of Independence:
Prudence, indeed, will dictate, that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government and to provide new Guards for their future security.
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¿Buenos días?
Over a year ago I wrote that a change was coming. Positive change, I'd
hoped. I am still hoping for that positive change to happen as
Corrections Corporation of America transitions out of Wilkinson County
Correctional Facility, and Management and Training Corporation takes
over its operation. As the change happens I will do my best to write
about it so that it gets posted on the blogs for those who are
interested. In the meantime I will share a story with you, for your
reading enjoyment.
I have reached a point where I'm tired of frequently and repeatedly getting all of my meager possessions torn to bits during searches that occur because of the idiots around me who want to harm each other. As is the problem with modern society, these people focus on treating the symptoms and not the root cause of a problem. So when my neighbor decides to tear down the fixture housing the light in his cell and make knives out of it and I am the one that is awakened at 1:30 A.M. with cops beating on my door and yelling for me to get down on the ground... I ain't going.
Think about the predicament a prisoner is in with situations like that. Unless they want to get labeled as a snitch, they can't say anything about what another prisoner is doing, even though that prisoner might be making a weapon to harm others. For many of you it might seem like a cut and dry decision. It isn't. And in prison everyone pays for the decisions of the few.
So here is the entire group of SORT officers (like the SWAT you see on TV) on the night shift standing outside our door, yelling at me, shining lights in my eyes at 1:30 A.M. ...I've told you, I am not a morning person. The lead officer is of Mexican heritage, so I politely say "Buenos días" to him, jam my door so they are unable to open it, and cover the window so they can't see inside. Now they are stuck outside my door looking stupid.
I'm normally respectful and courteous to a fault, complying when the guards tell me to do something. Respect is a two-way street, though. The SORT officers finally regroup enough to decide the next step in protocol is to open the food port in the door and spray me with chemical agents. I was expecting it. When they got the flap to the food port unlocked and open, ready to spray me with their mace, they were met with my prison-issue pillow. The spray intended for me was now all over them instead. They try the crack all around the door with the same results, because I had been stuffing towels in the cracks. The mace finally did cover one side of my body, but I didn't even notice it at the time.
Now imagine, fifteen SORT officers mingling outside this door covered in mace, trying to decide what to do next. One of them turns to his fellow officer and asks, "So, what do you say? Full gear?" Unless full gear includes a blowtorch, I don't think it would have helped them. Guards just aren't accustomed to this kind of resistance from most prisoners. I finally decided to let them in, since I'd made my point, I felt.
They went in and destroyed our cell, and I hated that for my roommate. He feels the same way I do about the situation though, or else I wouldn't have resisted the guards' intrusion. After they were done with "searching" the room, they had to take us to the clinic because they had used chemical agents. I admit, I was making them angry on purpose, laughing about how they looked standing around before I allowed them in the cell. A couple of them tried to get rough with me, pushing me into the wall, bruising me up, tightening the cuffs on my wrists. I've been through all that before.
After refusing to bother with medical staff taking my vital signs at the clinic, SORT escorted us back up the hall to our cell. On the way back I started telling them how they could have gone about things differently. During the whole time I was goading them I hadn't been disrespectful, but had been blunt in telling them that unless they were willing to go so far as to permanently maim me or kill me, there really was nothing they could do that I'd not been through already.
Before we got back to the cell I started yelling, "HONESTY! LOYALTY! INTEGRITY! RESPECT! THE CCA WAY!" over and over. And then I burst out laughing. They got the point. And as they put me back in my room I told them politely that if they came back in the same way they had come this morning, they could expect the same results. I'm still not a morning person.
I have reached a point where I'm tired of frequently and repeatedly getting all of my meager possessions torn to bits during searches that occur because of the idiots around me who want to harm each other. As is the problem with modern society, these people focus on treating the symptoms and not the root cause of a problem. So when my neighbor decides to tear down the fixture housing the light in his cell and make knives out of it and I am the one that is awakened at 1:30 A.M. with cops beating on my door and yelling for me to get down on the ground... I ain't going.
Think about the predicament a prisoner is in with situations like that. Unless they want to get labeled as a snitch, they can't say anything about what another prisoner is doing, even though that prisoner might be making a weapon to harm others. For many of you it might seem like a cut and dry decision. It isn't. And in prison everyone pays for the decisions of the few.
So here is the entire group of SORT officers (like the SWAT you see on TV) on the night shift standing outside our door, yelling at me, shining lights in my eyes at 1:30 A.M. ...I've told you, I am not a morning person. The lead officer is of Mexican heritage, so I politely say "Buenos días" to him, jam my door so they are unable to open it, and cover the window so they can't see inside. Now they are stuck outside my door looking stupid.
I'm normally respectful and courteous to a fault, complying when the guards tell me to do something. Respect is a two-way street, though. The SORT officers finally regroup enough to decide the next step in protocol is to open the food port in the door and spray me with chemical agents. I was expecting it. When they got the flap to the food port unlocked and open, ready to spray me with their mace, they were met with my prison-issue pillow. The spray intended for me was now all over them instead. They try the crack all around the door with the same results, because I had been stuffing towels in the cracks. The mace finally did cover one side of my body, but I didn't even notice it at the time.
Now imagine, fifteen SORT officers mingling outside this door covered in mace, trying to decide what to do next. One of them turns to his fellow officer and asks, "So, what do you say? Full gear?" Unless full gear includes a blowtorch, I don't think it would have helped them. Guards just aren't accustomed to this kind of resistance from most prisoners. I finally decided to let them in, since I'd made my point, I felt.
They went in and destroyed our cell, and I hated that for my roommate. He feels the same way I do about the situation though, or else I wouldn't have resisted the guards' intrusion. After they were done with "searching" the room, they had to take us to the clinic because they had used chemical agents. I admit, I was making them angry on purpose, laughing about how they looked standing around before I allowed them in the cell. A couple of them tried to get rough with me, pushing me into the wall, bruising me up, tightening the cuffs on my wrists. I've been through all that before.
After refusing to bother with medical staff taking my vital signs at the clinic, SORT escorted us back up the hall to our cell. On the way back I started telling them how they could have gone about things differently. During the whole time I was goading them I hadn't been disrespectful, but had been blunt in telling them that unless they were willing to go so far as to permanently maim me or kill me, there really was nothing they could do that I'd not been through already.
Before we got back to the cell I started yelling, "HONESTY! LOYALTY! INTEGRITY! RESPECT! THE CCA WAY!" over and over. And then I burst out laughing. They got the point. And as they put me back in my room I told them politely that if they came back in the same way they had come this morning, they could expect the same results. I'm still not a morning person.
We now interrupt your regular scheduled program...
Today I will complain. Why? Because it amuses me and there is nothing
you can do to stop me. MUAHAHAHA! Go ahead, try. See? You are no match
for my powers of complaint. And now I will proceed with my rant...
Contrary to popular belief, most prisoners do not own a personal TV or even have the opportunity. As the media and the government know too well, televisions are wonderful for pacifying a population, though. In Wilkinson County Correctional Facility there are two TVs on most pods, so there will not be fights about what is to be watched. One is used for movies or regular programs, and the other is for sports.
On 4/20 when these guys were trying to kill each other over an argument that happened on a lockdown pod about a pair of electric clippers, some bright soul decided to pull one of the TVs down and use it as a weapon. That TV is the one I could see from the cell where I am housed. I rarely watch TV, but it's a constant background noise, a subconscious thing. Hearing and not seeing it... I do not think the general public truly realizes how television is brainwashing you.
These days there are more commercials than actual programs, and most of the commercials are for insurance companies. And they play them over and over and over. Ad infinitum. Ad nauseum. (Pun intended.) Progressive. Geico. The General. State Farm. Farmer's Mutual. Ever wonder why your insurance is so high? This is the reason. They can't handle your claims because they are too busy planning their next round of annoying commercials. I do not want to hear Flo sing "I'll stand by you" or play the kazoo. Can't we just get Tard the Grumpy Cat to just frown at people during commercial breaks?
Contrary to popular belief, most prisoners do not own a personal TV or even have the opportunity. As the media and the government know too well, televisions are wonderful for pacifying a population, though. In Wilkinson County Correctional Facility there are two TVs on most pods, so there will not be fights about what is to be watched. One is used for movies or regular programs, and the other is for sports.
On 4/20 when these guys were trying to kill each other over an argument that happened on a lockdown pod about a pair of electric clippers, some bright soul decided to pull one of the TVs down and use it as a weapon. That TV is the one I could see from the cell where I am housed. I rarely watch TV, but it's a constant background noise, a subconscious thing. Hearing and not seeing it... I do not think the general public truly realizes how television is brainwashing you.
These days there are more commercials than actual programs, and most of the commercials are for insurance companies. And they play them over and over and over. Ad infinitum. Ad nauseum. (Pun intended.) Progressive. Geico. The General. State Farm. Farmer's Mutual. Ever wonder why your insurance is so high? This is the reason. They can't handle your claims because they are too busy planning their next round of annoying commercials. I do not want to hear Flo sing "I'll stand by you" or play the kazoo. Can't we just get Tard the Grumpy Cat to just frown at people during commercial breaks?
Rise up, people of the world! Take back your TV programming! Boycott companies that have annoying commercials! It is your right to be able to view cute and funny commercials to your heart's content. Speak up and speak out! Indict Flo for crimes against humanity and for smiling too much. The next thing you know, Flo will have her own morning program...and you just cannot trust people who smile that much.
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