Prison Strike

an essay on prisons

     I remember the first time I'd heard of a prisoner strike, whole concept seemed absurd to me as a child.  What are they gonna do, refuse to rot?  The phrase still strikes me as awkward though I've been in enough lockups to wonder if there's a jail in the world inmates couldn't bring to a screeching halt.  Even Auschwitz relied on inmate labor and that incentive program included not being murdered quite so often.  The American inmate does it to make the time go by.  more food, more good time, 19 cents an hour.  Benefits very but there is never any shortage of guys in general pop who wouldn't rather be a trustee. 
     I shaved a magnificent beard for the privilege of mowing the lawn here in Texas and the only real perk was a lunch 4 times larger than normal for which I'm strip searched. If someone offered me a bag of potato chips to see my a*s on the street I would like to think I'd beat that man for quite some time, certainly have some choice words for him.  Here though, seemed like a good deal.  Don't know what that says about me (or the trustees i'm housed with?), but my new theory on the pyramids doesn't involve aliens or levitation.
     It got me wondering though, what if we wouldn't, this is neither Nazi nor Nile .  American inmates have rights. The same constitutional rights I swore an oath to on enlistment may be laughable on the street, but they are in full effect as an inmate.  You can be quite a nuisance after you're sentenced, but pretrial detainees who are technically innocent awaiting due process can be down right obnoxious. Gandhi coulda brung this mother sucker to a dead stand still.  95% waltz out the door, scot-free.
     A ridiculous scenario, I agree, something I thought might make a good fiction novel.  Some strong gang enforces a Plato o Ploma arrangement with pictures of your family while the courts are carpet bombed by every injunction that doesn't wave time.  A full scale fire sale Die Hard 4 style and the DAs DOA before he can get the lip from his zipper.  Scoffing at the report as if dismissing sharp chest pains for indigestion until the ACLU knocks demanding to know why he's violating Americans' civil liberties as the Ombudsman calls the warden demanding to know why the inmates who have refused to cook, clean, or get along, haven't received the clean clothes, hot meals and safety to which they have a right.  No one takes a plea bargain, no one posts bond and all demand speedy trial by jury until the Governor gets the bill. Finally Kevin Spacey walks out the back gate, quits limping, lights a cigarette, and slides into the shotgun seat of a luxury sedan moments ahead of an investigator who'd finally realized he had Satan in handcuffs moments ago.
    Far fetched, sure, plagiarized towards the end, ok, but why do we weave the rope with which we're hung?  There's no system more jammable than this one.  you'll be hard pressed to find a district attorney who doesn't think he has enough paperwork already.  The judiciary is build to run at capacity and like Regan with the red threat, they just need to be pushed a little harder.
     I was in jail during the occupy tantrum.  I'm not much of a criminal, you'll be relieved to know i can still, vote, travel and buy guns (if I could afford to), but i had ample time to watch the news reports and I'm afraid the only way to view the protesters is sardonically.  I know Oakland got quite revved up as rumor has it Oakland is want to do, but I guess I gotta be the one to break it to ya, having stood on that wall, you have a 0% chance of violently overthrowing this regime.  If the fuel bill didn't break ya the Marine Corps would.  Still Oakland, I give ya an A for effort, no the Most Lamentable Hoetester Award goes to New York where they had the numbers, the media, the financial hub and then outside of a few selfies on the front porch disseminating CVs apparently, valiantly occupied Central Park???  fervently waving signs far enough outta the way to avoid Step 1 of civil disobedience, getting arrested.  Getting arrested in hoards.  I know you can't hook up with the brunette if you spend the night in lock up, but you can hardly expect a monetary megalith to call off the caviar/call girl/creature comfort extravaganza because ALL of them died laughing at you.
     Admittedly the chasm between philosophy and action makes the Grand Canyon look like a crack, but I fear we're becoming recreants who've confused talkin s**t with kickin a*s.  Anyway, I mention the method in case it hadn't dawned on everyone already, when a movement with enough work boots and soot tatoos gets the gonads to suffer effecting real change, they need only to passively not comply