Somebody's Watching (Over) Me

   Sometimes I think there is an entity that exists somehow in the netherlands of my mind that uses very little conscious energy but whom I respect and obey nonetheless. By “very little conscious energy” I mean that I am only fleetingly every consciously aware, of any actual thoughts that come from this entity. But, when the thoughts do come they are distinct, without rational or even clear emotional explanation, and I for some reason invariable obey. I think an example might make these “fleeting glimpses” a little more clear.

   When I got back from Boise, Idaho, early last year (2013), after having been gone from Terre Haute USP/SCU (i.e. Federal death row) on a court order for some eight months (in 2012), most of which time I spent at the SeaTac FDC/SHU (i.e. segregation) I found out that in my absence the USP/SCU prisoners got new color HDTVs (to replace the old CRT B/W TVs) and could also now purchase an MP3-player on commissary and buy music for it on the “Trust Fund Limited Inmate Computer System” (TRULINCS). Wow! Two great new improvements to my living conditions at the same time! And that was when that little voice in my head said simply, “One at a time,” and I obeyed.

   In other words, even though I had the means to buy an MP3-player right away, the “watcher” knew that I would be able to enjoy each new privilege much more if I took them one at a time. I didn’t actually think all this through, I just “obeyed” the voice and trust its wisdom without much thought or question. I was sorely tempted to buy an MP3-player right away, I enjoy my own brand of music as much as anyone, but the voice said, “not now”. So, I waited. I didn’t even know how long I would have to wait, but I knew --- without actually thinking about it --- that the watcher would let me know when, if not why.

   So, ten months go by, and I’m thoroughly enjoying my new color T.V., even more than I would have enjoyed it if I had the distraction of an MP3-player to go with it. But, as with most things, I eventually became less and less interested in the T.V. (especially as I started realizing how little anything on it is worth watching) and turned once more to my books for the comfort and solace they provide. I didn’t give much thought to buying an MP3-player yet, because the “voice” was still being quiet on the matter.

   But, then the end of the year came, along with the holidays, which always puts extra emotional stress on any prisoner, and the long awaited decision from Idaho (concerning the court ordered “competency” hearing, which is why I was there last year and held in SeaTac for eight months). I told a friend just before the judge’s ruling was finally issued that if the judge ruled as everyone expected (i.e. that I was in fact competent) then I would buy an MP3-player. The reason I gave for this at the time was some lame excuse about not wanting to buy an MP3-player because if the judge ruled I was not competent then I would most likely (eventually) be transferred off death row to some other Federal prison. I told my friend that I was concerned that the MP3-player could get lost or damaged during such a transfer (which is when most prisoner property gets lost or damaged). So, I was waiting for the judge’s decision before I bought one.

   At the time I had this conversation with my friend (over the phone) I was not thinking consciously about my “inner voice” (it goes by about as many names as any preternatural phenomenon), but instead I felt (thought) that I was just making a suitable excuse to finally buy an MP3-player. But then I got a letter from another friend/penpal who came right out and offered to order an MP3-player for me from Amazon.com. Of course I had to let her know that such orders are not allowed by the prison, but her offer --- completely out of the blue like that (I had never mentioned my desire for an MP3-player to her, or even my love for music; she just offered all on her own) and corresponding with the phone call to my other friend about finally purchasing an MP3-player for myself --- all seemed to chime of Jungian synchronicity (the experience of two or more events as meaningfully but not causally related). So I started paying closer attention, as is my habit when things like that occur, to see if there were any more signs, or meaning, to be relatedly discerned; and, of course, there were, or I wouldn’t be writing this now.

   At first there were no particularly meaningful coincidences other than when I asked the prisoner in the cell next to me about the procedure for buying an MP3-player and registering on TRULINCS to be able to buy songs (I wanted to know how long the registration process took, and it turned out to be very quick and automatic, so as soon as I got the player I could stay) he, my neighbor, offered to let me borrow his MP3-player for a couple of days so I could see how it worked. He had over 800 songs on his player (only halfway full memory-wise), mostly country, but many songs I liked too. If I wasn’t already sold on the idea of buying one, then actually getting to use one for a couple of days did the trick.

   That same week I bought my own player, and had my first dozen songs or so loaded onto it later the same day. I was a happy camper, and that brings me back to that “little voice” in my head.

   You see, without realizing it consciously I had been depressed by the judge’s ruling of competency. On the surface (i.e. consciously) I was happy with it. The finding meant not only that the rational for all my own decisions regarding my case was formally validated (which the judge did explicitly in the explanation for his ruling), but also that my one and only hope for “early release” (i.e. execution) remained alive. But, on a deeper lever, that I did not become aware of until recently, a part of me was saddened, greatly, that “they” had passed up yet another chance to back out of a terrible mistake (i.e. killing another human being without genuine cause). You see, other than my selfish personal hope for “early release”, I have a much deeper altruistic hope that people will somehow come to realize that I am a human being, not a monster; and either way that my past behavior (i.e. rape and murder) was a reflection on all of us, and not the sole volitional acts of one deranged man. If such a realization were to somehow make it into the collective consciousness of society in general, then I believe strongly that it would change not only how we treat so-called criminals, but in turn it would change how so-called criminals ultimately treat society (the most common intended victim). In other words, it would drastically reduce what we presently call “criminal behavior”, though we probably wouldn’t call it that any more (the very term solicits the behavior it purports to identify).

   This is my deepest hope, and one I am only aware of at all because of the consistent choices I have made that reflect it, and the numerous dreams I have had that express it directly (some of which I have blogger about at 5Ndreams.blogspot.com). This hope is also reflected (at least in my opinion) in many of the posts I have written in this blog, though I don’t generally ever set out with the conscious intention to do so.

   So, what does all this have to do with my “guardian angel” telling me to put off buying an MP3-player until now? Simply this: It seems to me that some part of me (the “watcher”, “inner voice”, “angel”, etc…) knew that I would be unconsciously depressed when the judge ruled for my competence. So, that part of me, using intelligence that goes way beyond my own as an individual, made arrangements for me to have some powerful medicine (in the Native American sense) to help me get through it. I feel this to be true because since I have gotten the MP3-player, and 40 or so songs so far with it, I have noticed a very distinct lifting in my spirits; which surprised me, because I didn’t think they needed lifting! Apparently, some part of me not only knew, but knew it over ten months ago!

[J.D. 2-2-2014]

The Mother Of All Child Abusers

What if the one you trusted as a child, the one whose sole job it was to protect you and nurture you, the one you thought cared for you and even loved you, was also the one who lied to you, betrayed you, and abused you day after day and year after year? What if this authority over you betrayed you, and told you that you must be punished for being a bad boy, or girl, in order to justify its sick need for power and control over someone else's life because they had so little control over their own? And what if this perverse monster intentionally allowed you to be forcibly raped and repeatedly used by more man than you could count, and refused to lift a finger to help even when you cried and begged? What if they kept you locked away from those who loved, and who genuinely loved you, and promised that if you are good and do everything they tell you without question that they'd let you go home, but then never do? And what if as you grow up and begin to mature you start to realize what a living hell this life that you thought was "normal" really was, but you could find no escape, and no relief from the torment, or tormentor?

Now imagine that the beast over your private hell had managed to convince the gullible society in which you lived that it had the right to do all these things to you, and said society let them do it, even legally sanctioning your living nightmare. Would the idea of poetic justice then appeal to you? Wouldn't you want this monster, and the society that abandoned you to its whims, to experience at least a taste of the misery and confusion that has been your life because of them? And in a world where the law only supported such an authority as this beast, wouldn't taking justice into your own hands be your only option? And if your life is such a living hell to begin with, don't you think you'd be willing to give it up for even a chance at such justice?

I did.

(J.D. 2-3-14)

P.S. I did, but then something happened that caused me to see through the even bigger lie we call "justice", and suddenly all of my pain had meaning, and purpose, that it never had before. I have since stopped wanting "justice" and now seek only the Truth within myself; which the tormentors in my life unwittingly only help me to do; and that's what I call real justice.

Reality Is The Dreamer, Not The Dream

The fear of death only arises when we presume that our existence has some value beyond the Now. Such a presumption is based on the illusion of our existence outside of the Now, which occures when we focus our conscious energy on our memories of the past and/or fantasies of the future. Of course our ability to remember and to anticipate circumstances are critical to our survival (as individuals and as a species). We intuitively recognize the importance of these abilities, but when hubris takes over we forget that they are only tools that allow us to live more effectively in the now, and instead we mistake our imagined perceptions of the past and of future to be even more "real" than the present, and we suffer greatly as we try to live there.

A big reason for this common mistake is that we have been taught to forget what reality even is. Reality is not what we see, touch, taste, hear, or otherwise experience outside of ourselves. Reality isn't even what we think or feel "inside". Reality is much deeper than all of these things which depend on the organics of our brains and nervous system to happen. Reality is the underlying awareness of all of it; or simply, the ability to be aware. Reality is the dreamer, not the dream. When we remember this basic truth - I mean, really remember - then our fear of death will be void, because in the context of the Really Real death has no meaning.

(J.D. 1-24-14)

On Being A Hypocrite

If you don't think you are a hypocrite then you are probably the worst kind. I know I am hypocritical about lots of things, but I try hard not to be. Being aware of my own hypocrisy helps me be less hypocritical, and more honest about being hypocritical when I am.

If you're not willing to admit that you are a hypocrite, then you are just allowing your hypocritical nature free reign, and reign it will!

(J.D. 2-4-14)

A Common Misconception

   Most people think that criminal lawyers have to do what the criminal defendant wants them to do in regard to the legal handling of the case against them. But, that's not true at all. Any criminal attorney knows that, aside from hiring or firing their lawyer, defendants get to make only three legal decisions in the case: whether or not to accept a plea bargain agreement (that the lawyers draft with little or no input from the defendant), whether or not to take the witness stand at trial (all other witnesses are chosen regardless of the defendant's wishes), and whether or not to waive the "right" to a "speedy trial": And even these decisions are severely restricted. For example, a defendant cannot enter into a plea agreement that their attorney does not agree to. And, if a defendant does decide to take the witness stand, the attorney is the one who decides what the testimony will be about. Also, once a defendant waives their "right" to a "speedy trial" the lawyers can then file for as many extensions to that delay as tehy like, even against their clients' wishes.

   In fact, the attorneys are empowered to do almost anything they want in the client's name with or without the client's consent. They can file motions, subpoena witnesses and documents, review evidence that the defendant is not allowed to see (or sometimes even know about), and even speak in court on their client's behalf, all without ever checking to see if their client concurs with them or not. Even the decision to hire or fire an attorney is frequently restricted by the judge, especially when public defenders are involved.

   In my case I told my attorneys explicitly on several occassions not to file certain motions (e.g. motions to suppress evidence that I felt was tantamount to suppressing the truth), or subpoenas (e.g. for Shasta's therapy sessions notes, which I felt was an unnecessary invasion of her privacy), and requests to delay the trial (which they did several times against my wishes). I wasn't even allowed to plead guilty at my arraignment hearing the way I wanted to because "the judge wouldn't allow it". So I remained silent instead and my attorneys entered a "not guilty" plea on my behalf.

   From that day onward the judge, the newspaper and the T.V. reporters, even my own attorneys insisted on refering to motions "filed by the defendant", "Mr. Duncan's not guilty plea", and "the defendant's choices" that were all made by my attorneys against my explicit requests. They even contacted and spoke to many of my family members, and friends, that I had asked them not to contact, and later even subpoenaed them against my boisterous protests. At one point I even sent letters to as many people as I could (friends, family, landlords, college professors, etc...) warning them that if they spoke to the "defense team" investigators that they could end up being subpoenaed to testify in a very public trial (I found out later in court that many defendants have felt the need to write such letters before me, and doubtlessly many more will do so in the future). It was clear to me that I had no say in such matters, so I wanted to warn the people I cared about to stay clear, or they too could get pulled into the vortex of deception that passes for a justice system.

   It was because of all this deception, that was being perpetrated in my name, that I finally decided that I had to represent myself. I had told my attorneys that they should sign any agreement necessary with the government prosecutors in order to keep Shasta from having to testify at the trial. When i found out that the government would agree to not put Shasta on the witness stand only if "the defendant" agreed to certain stipulations that my attorneys felt were too damaging for me and would not agree to (in my name of course) I said, enough is enough, and I requested to represent myself because it was the only way to keep Shasta from having to testify. (The first thing I did once I was allowed to make my own decisions in court was sign an agreement with the government prosecutor in which Shasta would not be compelled to testify unless she herself wanted to do so under no compulsion. To this day I'm not sure what I "gave" the government in exchange, because it didn't matter to me (it had something to do with agreeing to certain facts in the case, or something like that, I honestly don't remember).

   So, the next time you're watching one of those phoney baloney popular cop shows that shows some criminal yelling at his attorney and telling him what to do I hope you'll realize that the entire show is just as phoney as the attorney-client relationship they depict. I can't tell you how many first time arresties come to jail insisting on all their "rights" that they think they have because their idea of "rights" comes from what they see on T.V. in shows like "Law and Order", "NCIS", or "Criminal Minds". As you may know, I have already blogged before about how completely detached from reality these shows are. The phoney "attorney-client" relationships that they depict should let you know how fake they are in general, if you can't see how phoney they are otherwise.

[J.D. 1-10-14]


P.S. Every attorney I have ever had knows full well how I feel about the above, but they also know that I hold none of it against them. They are compelled by law to do what they do, and my only criticism against them --- a criticism that I have openly expressed to each one --- is that they kid themselves into thinking they serve their clients, much as cops kid themselves into thinking they serve the victims; they are sworn to serve the System (i.e. the "Law" first, and in the end the System only serves itself. This doesn't mean I think they (my lawyers, or the police) are "bad" people. I absolutely do not think that at all. But, they are deceived, and I make no bones about reminding them of that every chance I get. I care about them as genuinely as they care about me --- and I believe they (most of them) do genuinely care about me; and that's more important to me than what they do int he name of the "Law", or even in my name for that matter.

The Fifth Nail Conundrum

What we do, or believe, in the name of salvation may be the very thing that condemns us. And the thing we condemn ourselves for may very well be the thing that saves us. This is what I could call the conundrum of the fifth nail.

Religious faith is not the solution, because it only redoubles the quandary. Philosophy will never solve the problem, because by its own admission it is limited by the bounds of human intellect and experience. If the solution is to provide salvation then it must do so independent of station and reason. Science is no more than a religious glorification of human reason, and so must also fail to save us.

There is only one direction left to turn. But, if at this point you need to be told what that direction is then you obviously have not been reading the Fifth Nail blogs, or otherwise even asking the right questions (i.e. doubting everything you have been taught to believe). The fifth nail is a symbol for the right questions, and this blog is an attempt to expose the meaning of that symbol, and perhaps the most important question of all, which is more of a conundrum than a question.

(J.D. 12-20-13)

P.S. I started the original Fifth Nail blog, "Blogging the Fifth Nail" (fifthnail.blogspot.com), back in 2004 while I was living in Fargo, North Dakota, after reading about the legend of the fifth nail on the Internet. The legend, as I recall, says that a band of Gypsies (wandering blacksmiths) were commissioned with making the nails that were used to crucify criminals in Jesus's day. In Jesus' case five nails were ordered by the Roman soldiers, and five nails were actually forged, but for reasons unknown to anyone but God (and Jesus I suppose) only four nails were delivered. The Gypsies withheld the fifth nail, which consequently became one of those miraculous religious artifacts that circulated amongst the early Christian churches. But here the story splits, and two versions of the legend lived on. In one version, the Gypsies who withheld the fifth nail were rewarded by God for preventing the Romans from defiling the heart of Christ with the fifth nail. And in the other version, the Gypsies were punished by God for withholding the nail that would have been driven into Christ's heart in order to end his suffering.

So, the quandary of the legend is clear; were the Gypsies rewarded or punished for what they did? We will never know by any effort of intellect or reason, and thus the conundrum of the fifth nail is perfectly expressed by this legend.

In My Opinion...

To me an opinion is any idea that is asserted without the support of direct and conclusive experience. This lack of supporting experience does not necessarily mean the opinion is false or entirely unsupported. It only means that it could be false, or otherwise misconstrued. It could also be true.

An idea, asserted or not, that has direct and conclusive experiencial (i.e. empirical) support is something I like to call simply, experience; or, to be more specific, direct experience. Even said "experience" is subject to being proven false, usually by more experience (but, occasionally by careful reasoning).

If an opinion is maintained in disregard of conflicting experience (or reasoning) then that would be what I like to call, "ignorence" (sic), which is a euphemism for ignorance. In my general experience, Christians like to call this, "blind faith". And, in my opinion, it goes against everything Christ tried to teach. But then, this could just be my own ignorence showing; only more experience will tell.