Friday, June 27, 2025

Tuesday, June 17, 2025

When Daniel Plainview Planted Wildflowers

Daniel Plainview was consumed by seething hatred since he "slithered from his mother's filth." His words. On sage advice, and wishing to become a better man, Daniel planted wildflowers in his East Tennessee retirement haven, just out back in his field, attenuating his generalized hatred by cultivating a share of beauty. He tended the seedlings and little sprouts, experiencing for the first time in his dark life the glory of god almighty in the process. "The glory of the flower." But thanks to confederate Coloniel William Johnson of Alabama, his eponymous Johnson Grass squeezed from the earth, choking and strangling Daniel's enterprise to death, leaving thick bladed Camboian jungles in the wake. And on account of that predation, Daniel returned to his default setting, which was compounded by these events. Drunken, he swore to stalk as many of Johnson's descendants as he could locate and rape them all to death. This was the nature of Daniel's condition.

Sunday, June 15, 2025

The Crowbar Lunch

June 9, 2025 with my first and only employer, Lionel R. Barrett, Jr. for lunch in Hartsville, Tennessee after I returned from the worst place in the world, complete with radioactivity from the site of a former nuclear facility upon which prison was bulit . Trousdale Turner Correctional Complex. A prominent "Radiation Notice" met its entrants at the Administion Annex. Anyway, Lionel has probably defended more murder cases than any attorney in this state. So many, in fact, that it was hard for him to keep track of them all. The crowbar case arose out of Bell Meade, where the daughter of a rich couple (everone's rich in Bell Meade) signed up for a compassion project to assist homeless people in and around Nashville, whereupon she met a lost soul within a young man who would then kill her with blunt force trauma with a crowbar. Lionel represented its handler, who turned out to be seriously brain diseased. May I take your order, hermanos?

Thursday, June 12, 2025

Sentences from Inside - "I don't have an address for Jesus."

"I know of two pictures where I'm asleep, no shirt, camo jacket on, asleep. Alley also asleep with pink summer dress on and she is holding me while I'm laying her in the back of the Pathfinder. I'd like have these and a couple or four more. I don't have an address for Jesus. If I ever get on a phone I'm calling Daddy and then y'all. When I'm able to I am willing to go to work at Arby's, Wendy's, anything what so ever to get money an help my family. I was fortunate to speak with my daddy. Gangs control each phone except one outside. They have moved me to 24A pod where I sit waiting to be sent to Nashville-Only-Knows, but hopefully Morgan County Correctional Complex in Wartburg." WRL