What, More Ramblings?
* I can't imagine anyone who knows anything about a federal prison, and that should include our current Attorney General, being surprised by the apparent suicide of Jeffrey Epstein. But I understand why the rest of the country might wonder how in the world that could happen in a secure facility. It's impossible for the uninformed to imagine the incompetence of the Federal Bureau of Prisons. It has to be experienced first hand. It's an organization run by forms, many of which are routinely fraudulently prepared. That works well though in a culture based on lies, CYA, laziness, and blame shifting. And the union will make sure none of that ever changes. I wish the new acting director good luck, but realize she will need more than luck.
* I've said before that the inmate population here at Bastrop Federal Satellite Camp is no more weird than a typical Baptist church. After 4 years and witnessing more than a 90% turnover in population, I stand by that keen if unprofessional analysis. I've never felt threatened here, but it didn't take me long to realize there are some inmates to avoid. There are a few who simply cannot stop talking. No thought, no matter how random or boring, is unexpressed. Then there are a few who are either delusional or pathological liars. One inmate has been abducted by aliens and one tells other inmates he's a psychiatrist. He would be, too, were it not for about 9 years of education and training. One is from Waco, so I know he didn't live in a "million dollar house." But perhaps the scariest are the 2-3 who are bipolar. Unfortunately, one of these has been my bunk mate for the last 12 months. He has the lower bunk and I have the upper. He's one of four puppy raisers and has done at least half the job completely bassackwards from day one. Which half varies by the day. His dog is easily 20% overweight, sleeps on the lower bunk when he's not begging for food, and often looks at him with a "WTF" expression. Nevertheless, his dog, after a serious diet, will easily make an excellent service dog for Canine Companions for Independence, proving that breeding can overcome bad training. Also, to my surprise, my bunk mate is a loyal and protective friend to me. He's told me weekly that if anyone ever messes with me or Freddy, he will do serious physical harm to them, and there is no doubt he would.
* The commissary is closed again because of contraband being brought into the camp. Three inmates, not our best and brightest, were caught bringing in the mother lode of goodies that included large amounts of candy and vodka, along with a few What-A-Burgers, fries, and a cell phone or two. They entered the housing unit right in front of the evening officer and were seen on several cameras, giving criminals everywhere a bad name.
* My pants and shoes have holes in them. I guess I should leave.