today was the last visit, yes we cried yes so did he.
it was a visiting day so the place was full of people, and Bradley had an interesting story to tell on each and every one of the people. This one had 2 wives, both visit him every sunday and bring him foor. he spends 2 hours with one in the front of the grounds, then he spends 2 hours with his second wife in the back area. This man, an american friend of his, also has 2 women in Costa Rica, demands he move to Costa Rica when he finishes his time in jail, the other insists on moving with him back to the States. He is torn between all these options. And there are these women with buckets full of food, who cook every saturday to bring good food to ALL the prisoners on sunday. Though we have seen him eating a few times, i must say i was impressed with the quality of food served there. Plenty delicious veggies, big pieces of meat, rice and beans. Yes there are worse places to be held than in Adulto Mayor.
and in a few days we will finally know for sure what is going on. Today daddy is feeling less optimistic, he says now that when the psychologist left the meeting friday she avoided eye contact with him.
next posting will be from Holland
Kiss to all
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Saturday, September 29, 2007
whispers, rumors...
rain rain rain, every afternoon, and not the hot tropical rain. Pouring rain freezing cold, lightning cutting the sky like i've never seen it. But we managed to buy a most ripe Guanabana, which is not a banana not a mango and not a guava, but a mixture of the three.
next week is the big day, everybody think of him on october the third, his fate will be decided, he will hear if gets a parole, or when he will be released, if the stupid marihuana cigarette will be used against him as a proof he has not reformed, whatever. yesterday while we were visiting they were having this big meeting, the prison shrink (who makes him write down what he likes about himself and what he doesn't like) the guards who seem to like him well enough, the doctors, the director of te prison... Everyone said it is a GOOD thing we came to visit every day that week because that shows he has a family that cares and loves him. That makes him look good! And when they walked out of the big meeting the shrink looked at him. she didn`t smile but she did look at him. If she had said something mean, if she had given a negative report about him, she wouldn`t have looked, now, would she?
Anyway Bradley is waiting but we have decided that whatever happens we`ll deal with it, we`ll keep on sending books and clothes. and paper and good pens. Because he is reaching new heights in his writings. I don't mean the quality, everyone has to decide on his own. I mean the quantity! He was a bit upset that i edited a few words here and there, softened the edge... But i told him my mother is reading this too!
Last week the guards sang a song he wrote about la libertad, they smile and greet us, they are fair.
Now he is interested in the antipopes. I ordered a few books on the subject to send him.
One more visit tomorrow, then we are on the return journey. we will be back in februari if he`s still there, to eat another perfect guanabana and enjoy the sun in the mornings.
Will keep you posted!
next week is the big day, everybody think of him on october the third, his fate will be decided, he will hear if gets a parole, or when he will be released, if the stupid marihuana cigarette will be used against him as a proof he has not reformed, whatever. yesterday while we were visiting they were having this big meeting, the prison shrink (who makes him write down what he likes about himself and what he doesn't like) the guards who seem to like him well enough, the doctors, the director of te prison... Everyone said it is a GOOD thing we came to visit every day that week because that shows he has a family that cares and loves him. That makes him look good! And when they walked out of the big meeting the shrink looked at him. she didn`t smile but she did look at him. If she had said something mean, if she had given a negative report about him, she wouldn`t have looked, now, would she?
Anyway Bradley is waiting but we have decided that whatever happens we`ll deal with it, we`ll keep on sending books and clothes. and paper and good pens. Because he is reaching new heights in his writings. I don't mean the quality, everyone has to decide on his own. I mean the quantity! He was a bit upset that i edited a few words here and there, softened the edge... But i told him my mother is reading this too!
Last week the guards sang a song he wrote about la libertad, they smile and greet us, they are fair.
Now he is interested in the antipopes. I ordered a few books on the subject to send him.
One more visit tomorrow, then we are on the return journey. we will be back in februari if he`s still there, to eat another perfect guanabana and enjoy the sun in the mornings.
Will keep you posted!
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Holly' s story
We are getting in some kind of a rhythm here. we have a permission to visit almost every day, we spend the afternoon shopping for Bradley, and in the evening we cook fabulous meals and crash.
Yesterday his shopping list was: a few packs of cigars for someone he woed a favor to, 2 pizzas as a treat to a few americans imprisoned there and a grammar book for spanish. The day before he needed loads of paper and pens...
San Jose is an ugly flithy noisy city. I love it! in all the times ie been here i haven understood the lay out, and we get lost every sngle time we step out the door. sometimes we find the mercado cerrado, the closed market, where we amble for hours looking at herbs toys spices fish meat candles prayer objects straw dolls... other times we fall on the post office and hurriedly mail a few cards.
The hotel is fobackpackers from all over the world. don let the name fool you, there is a big kitchen a swimming pool, an enormous television and a fabulous garden, the dorms are clean and so is the pool.
the ride to the jail on the other hand is hellish. Takes an hour in this greasy smelly bus, in the incredible traffic of the city, and the driver once out of the city makes up for lost time by speeding up these narrow paths relying on his horn to warn oncoming traffic. Linda is plunged in a book the whole time (Angela`s ashes at this moment) but i stare outside and think of all the things i should have done and should have said to the people i love... and all of a sudden we are THERE and daddy is standing at the gate with an expression of hope despair and pride that once again we made it!
kiss to all
Love to all
Yesterday his shopping list was: a few packs of cigars for someone he woed a favor to, 2 pizzas as a treat to a few americans imprisoned there and a grammar book for spanish. The day before he needed loads of paper and pens...
San Jose is an ugly flithy noisy city. I love it! in all the times ie been here i haven understood the lay out, and we get lost every sngle time we step out the door. sometimes we find the mercado cerrado, the closed market, where we amble for hours looking at herbs toys spices fish meat candles prayer objects straw dolls... other times we fall on the post office and hurriedly mail a few cards.
The hotel is fobackpackers from all over the world. don let the name fool you, there is a big kitchen a swimming pool, an enormous television and a fabulous garden, the dorms are clean and so is the pool.
the ride to the jail on the other hand is hellish. Takes an hour in this greasy smelly bus, in the incredible traffic of the city, and the driver once out of the city makes up for lost time by speeding up these narrow paths relying on his horn to warn oncoming traffic. Linda is plunged in a book the whole time (Angela`s ashes at this moment) but i stare outside and think of all the things i should have done and should have said to the people i love... and all of a sudden we are THERE and daddy is standing at the gate with an expression of hope despair and pride that once again we made it!
kiss to all
Love to all
Brad's writings
They called him Picolenio, he ran errands around the prison yard. he ambled with the stride of a man, crippled since birth with three fingers missing from his left hand, no fingers on his right both elbows twisted to an obscene and obtuse angle. The paralysis of his wrist movements is what attracted my attention but he did not seem bothered by these infirmities as he hobbled around with a permanent smile on this distorted body.
This man fascinated me. after discreet inquiries i discovered Picolenio was inside for the theft of high tension electrical cables from the power company. He and a partner would climb up the power distribution towers, disconnect the wiring for the copper scrap, then disappear in the darknes leaving the city wondering why the power was off, again.
One nioght the unforseen occurred, as it always does. The partner slipped off the tower and fell into a tangle of high tension cables, electrocuting himself. Picolenio charged into the tangle to save his doomed companion, and in the energized mayhem burned his fingers, arms and legs, barely escaping with his life.
I have a new respect for this heroic man.
This man fascinated me. after discreet inquiries i discovered Picolenio was inside for the theft of high tension electrical cables from the power company. He and a partner would climb up the power distribution towers, disconnect the wiring for the copper scrap, then disappear in the darknes leaving the city wondering why the power was off, again.
One nioght the unforseen occurred, as it always does. The partner slipped off the tower and fell into a tangle of high tension cables, electrocuting himself. Picolenio charged into the tangle to save his doomed companion, and in the energized mayhem burned his fingers, arms and legs, barely escaping with his life.
I have a new respect for this heroic man.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
holly, again
so this is in his own words. I have seen the papers, it is written out that he will hear on the 3rd of october if and when he will be released. The joint and papers seem to weigh heavily in the balance: is he really fit for society if he is still abusing illicit drugs?
can they believe him, when he says it isnt his? is it relevant?
whatever happens, weĺl deal with it.
can they believe him, when he says it isnt his? is it relevant?
whatever happens, weĺl deal with it.
Brad`s story
Abruptly my transfer papers arrived for the senior citizen reformatory, aptly called " adulto Mayor". Collecting my belongings, i said numerous goodbyes to my friends. The penal Godfather owed me money and he handed me a sausage shaped packagewrapped in tape ready for insertion. I believed this to be a wad of cash. I dismantled the package and discovered about 2 ozs of weed! Remembering my situation, i discarded the dangerous bundle. Then the officials came for me and i was off to a new jailhouse.
Costa Rica provides special habitation for Senior citizens. the first thing i observed was an idleness of older men almost in a state of repose, lounging around on foot or wheelchairs as they conclude life repenting their various transgressions.
Inside the office they opened my luggage and in full view of everyone, there lay a marijuana cigarette!
Horrified into a state of mental derangement, my knees buckled as the room revolved. What! How! this is impossible! Closer inspection revealed rolling papers also. This is not happening to me, but the contraband is very real. I try to hold on to my sanity as a drug sniffing dog appeared. The trainer instructed this joyous hound to inspect me and my belongings. The canine performed with his tail wagging almost to disconnection. He stuck his nose p my ass and would certainly have discovered the dope i almost had carried. Not carrying it spared me an additional 8 years here.
Every life holds moments when reality merges with infinity. I have smoked every joint i have ever rolled, then i always ate the roach. So how could i ignore a joint in my bag? how could i have left it there along with rolling papers? Did i deliberately place myself in jeopardy? do i have an unconscious desire to miscarry existence? This all flashed through my brain as the officials wrote me a violation for possession of drugs and paraphernalia. Like i said this is unreal!
The calamity f these events weighed me down. They assigned me a bunk inside a reasonable dormitory full of old men. Still frightened of what could happen next i tried to compose myself and think. short time later i was called, for a phone call.
This was one of my ex-mates from Puntarenas, inquiring about my health, we chatted. The trip was uncomfortable, the place appears clean and quiet, without the mischevious kids playing grab-ass. He asked " did i have a problem with the dogs?" No nothing much i said... then i was thunderstruck by the idea: He knew about the dogs! The dogs! he knew of the dope-sniffing dogs!i ended the conversation, and hung up.
This was inconceivable, this was real. I was set up. Yhe entire episode makes perfect sense now. My "friends" wanted me back, they wanted me to remain in prison. I was a good customer, a good cell mate, sharing the bounty when i had it... They placed the joint in plain sight knowing the dogs would be called... i am losing faith in humanity outside of close family.
we will see what happens.
Costa Rica provides special habitation for Senior citizens. the first thing i observed was an idleness of older men almost in a state of repose, lounging around on foot or wheelchairs as they conclude life repenting their various transgressions.
Inside the office they opened my luggage and in full view of everyone, there lay a marijuana cigarette!
Horrified into a state of mental derangement, my knees buckled as the room revolved. What! How! this is impossible! Closer inspection revealed rolling papers also. This is not happening to me, but the contraband is very real. I try to hold on to my sanity as a drug sniffing dog appeared. The trainer instructed this joyous hound to inspect me and my belongings. The canine performed with his tail wagging almost to disconnection. He stuck his nose p my ass and would certainly have discovered the dope i almost had carried. Not carrying it spared me an additional 8 years here.
Every life holds moments when reality merges with infinity. I have smoked every joint i have ever rolled, then i always ate the roach. So how could i ignore a joint in my bag? how could i have left it there along with rolling papers? Did i deliberately place myself in jeopardy? do i have an unconscious desire to miscarry existence? This all flashed through my brain as the officials wrote me a violation for possession of drugs and paraphernalia. Like i said this is unreal!
The calamity f these events weighed me down. They assigned me a bunk inside a reasonable dormitory full of old men. Still frightened of what could happen next i tried to compose myself and think. short time later i was called, for a phone call.
This was one of my ex-mates from Puntarenas, inquiring about my health, we chatted. The trip was uncomfortable, the place appears clean and quiet, without the mischevious kids playing grab-ass. He asked " did i have a problem with the dogs?" No nothing much i said... then i was thunderstruck by the idea: He knew about the dogs! The dogs! he knew of the dope-sniffing dogs!i ended the conversation, and hung up.
This was inconceivable, this was real. I was set up. Yhe entire episode makes perfect sense now. My "friends" wanted me back, they wanted me to remain in prison. I was a good customer, a good cell mate, sharing the bounty when i had it... They placed the joint in plain sight knowing the dogs would be called... i am losing faith in humanity outside of close family.
we will see what happens.
holly`s story, suite
i crashed last night before i could finish writing Brad story. Jet lag i guess, fell asleep, woke up at 6 to prepare him a picnic lunch, and off we were to visit.
This reunion was less emotional than yesterday`s, we now know he is fine and we could actually talk, not just stare and gaze at each other!
He told me there have been complaints by readers that i do not update this blog as regularly as i should... sincere excuses to all, it will not happen again. Today he wanted to know all about internet. How do you make a bank transaction without a cheque, what is virtual reality... He is also very worried about what he hears on the radio and reads in the news. Is the ice cap actually melting? are people worried about it? what's that about alternative fuel for the cars? how can you book a ticket online, how does that work? when/how do you pay? how can you pay in a supermarket without cash or cheques? and... will he look like a fool when he comes out, and doesn know all that? will they laugh at him if he pulls out his wallet and pays cash?
enough of this, iĺl write his story.
This reunion was less emotional than yesterday`s, we now know he is fine and we could actually talk, not just stare and gaze at each other!
He told me there have been complaints by readers that i do not update this blog as regularly as i should... sincere excuses to all, it will not happen again. Today he wanted to know all about internet. How do you make a bank transaction without a cheque, what is virtual reality... He is also very worried about what he hears on the radio and reads in the news. Is the ice cap actually melting? are people worried about it? what's that about alternative fuel for the cars? how can you book a ticket online, how does that work? when/how do you pay? how can you pay in a supermarket without cash or cheques? and... will he look like a fool when he comes out, and doesn know all that? will they laugh at him if he pulls out his wallet and pays cash?
enough of this, iĺl write his story.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
holly`s story, live from ALAJUELA!
Been a while, i know. But there was so little to tell.
And all of a sudden, last month a great change to the better. Bradley was transferred to a different prison, reserved for the elite and the well behaved elderly men. Many of them have spent years in jail and have adapted to the there is lots of space, lots of green and much more privileges. We have been able to visit him on a saturday, which is exceptional considering the special visiting pass had not been confirmed, we sat outside and talked.
He is looking good and much happier, he gives english classes daily, GOES TO REHABILITATION CLASSES and does all it takes to prove he can still be a valuable memeber of society. He says the rules are simple, make your bed, cut your hair, clean up and don't fight. These men all say `this is not a jail!"
we brought him loads of books, new sneakers and socks, writing paper and pens. so we can expect all ew writings and plays in the coming months. Maybe. because here comes the 2nd piece of news: on the 3rd of october there will be a hearing, and he will hear exactly if and when there will be a chance of coming out early.
there might be a problem: when the guards at the :new`place opened his suitcase, right there, lying on top of his clothes, there was a joint. Surprise. He believes it was put there by someone at the previous place, to get him in trouble. he says he isn't stupid, he wouldn't have put it there knowing the guards will always look through a prisoner's possessions when they come to a prison. But they found it, and because of that joint he might actually lose his 'good behaviour' credits, and be forced to sit out his complete sentence, 5 years instead of 2 and 9 months... Who put it there? was it a goodbye present or was it to try to keep him at the old place? whatever happens he will not be returned to Puntarenas, so ... we'll deal with it.
Funny story. After a week in Alajuela, the director of the previous place phoned him and asked if he wanted to come back to Puntarenas... He politely declined. They miss the english classes he used to give.
But we will be visiting him daily, and i will keep you all posted.
And all of a sudden, last month a great change to the better. Bradley was transferred to a different prison, reserved for the elite and the well behaved elderly men. Many of them have spent years in jail and have adapted to the there is lots of space, lots of green and much more privileges. We have been able to visit him on a saturday, which is exceptional considering the special visiting pass had not been confirmed, we sat outside and talked.
He is looking good and much happier, he gives english classes daily, GOES TO REHABILITATION CLASSES and does all it takes to prove he can still be a valuable memeber of society. He says the rules are simple, make your bed, cut your hair, clean up and don't fight. These men all say `this is not a jail!"
we brought him loads of books, new sneakers and socks, writing paper and pens. so we can expect all ew writings and plays in the coming months. Maybe. because here comes the 2nd piece of news: on the 3rd of october there will be a hearing, and he will hear exactly if and when there will be a chance of coming out early.
there might be a problem: when the guards at the :new`place opened his suitcase, right there, lying on top of his clothes, there was a joint. Surprise. He believes it was put there by someone at the previous place, to get him in trouble. he says he isn't stupid, he wouldn't have put it there knowing the guards will always look through a prisoner's possessions when they come to a prison. But they found it, and because of that joint he might actually lose his 'good behaviour' credits, and be forced to sit out his complete sentence, 5 years instead of 2 and 9 months... Who put it there? was it a goodbye present or was it to try to keep him at the old place? whatever happens he will not be returned to Puntarenas, so ... we'll deal with it.
Funny story. After a week in Alajuela, the director of the previous place phoned him and asked if he wanted to come back to Puntarenas... He politely declined. They miss the english classes he used to give.
But we will be visiting him daily, and i will keep you all posted.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
a poem for Live Earth
Mother Nature
Once upon a time the water was pure
Now every river on earth is a sewer
How many species are extinct today
Never to return again in any way
I am the mother, your mother earth
It is i who have given all of you birth
Now i curse the day i created man
Into hell! you will all be damned.
It is a capital sin to cut down a tree
you slash and burn all over me.
Today the land once jungle or orchard
we are now victims of an earth you tortured
An angry mother reveals powers she had
as the sky gets hot and the seas go mad
hurricanes and tornados will proliferate
your coastal cities i will eliminate.
Cannibalism will be the final solution
you will be victims of your own pollution
The living will curse the memory of you
and the dead will be your bar-b-que"
Once upon a time the water was pure
Now every river on earth is a sewer
How many species are extinct today
Never to return again in any way
I am the mother, your mother earth
It is i who have given all of you birth
Now i curse the day i created man
Into hell! you will all be damned.
It is a capital sin to cut down a tree
you slash and burn all over me.
Today the land once jungle or orchard
we are now victims of an earth you tortured
An angry mother reveals powers she had
as the sky gets hot and the seas go mad
hurricanes and tornados will proliferate
your coastal cities i will eliminate.
Cannibalism will be the final solution
you will be victims of your own pollution
The living will curse the memory of you
and the dead will be your bar-b-que"
Brad's story
Every 3 or 4 years, the Costa Rican penal system relocates long time inmates. These men will have spent their entire adult life inside lockdown. Now 2 new men have arrived from another prison.
One is a typecast stereotype of what you expect a sex pervert to look like in the movies, a muscular squat face with a rotten teeth sneer that passes for a smile. this man could play the leading part in any nightmare movie.
The other new man is confined to a wheelchair. He has a powerful upper torso and is underdeveloped below the hips. This man has many friends helping him in the shower, in the bathroom,, and they are fed from the outside. He was arrested for a sex crime, how is that possible when confined to a wheelchair? what was he doing? could be good movie stuff.
They released the cow fucker today. He got caught in the act, got 5 years and did 2. There must be more to the story, i don't believe it, the cow wasn't hurt in any way, i bet she hardly noticed it at all.
One is a typecast stereotype of what you expect a sex pervert to look like in the movies, a muscular squat face with a rotten teeth sneer that passes for a smile. this man could play the leading part in any nightmare movie.
The other new man is confined to a wheelchair. He has a powerful upper torso and is underdeveloped below the hips. This man has many friends helping him in the shower, in the bathroom,, and they are fed from the outside. He was arrested for a sex crime, how is that possible when confined to a wheelchair? what was he doing? could be good movie stuff.
They released the cow fucker today. He got caught in the act, got 5 years and did 2. There must be more to the story, i don't believe it, the cow wasn't hurt in any way, i bet she hardly noticed it at all.
Holly"s story
everything is ok, Brad is starting to believe he actually might be released in august. How? why? strange rumors, whatever. He knows, understands the danger of false hope, and still every time he gets ready to walk out the door. The system seems based on hope, " keep'em happy" kind of routine.
we talk nearly daily on the phone, he calls, i call, sometimes he has important news, like when the wandering dog watched the inmates football game with him, or the time they got a second mango! often about his writings, he is nearly finished with the script for a movie and the hero just got shot and is dying.
and sometimes he wonders and worries about something small that happened when i was a kid, or when linda's twins were born.
all things considered he is fine, works in the prison library. Yes, the even have english books there, left behind by other inmates. He told me of the other Gringo, an american who got 12 years for seducing a minor, a 16 year old who happened to be the niece or cousin of someone important... What he actually did was smoke a joint with her and her 2 girlfriends. he will sit there till 2012. This gringo has read every book in the library and is starting afresh, by book 1.
Dear readers,... Please send books for them!
Kiss to all, from Bradley and from me
Bradley Haylock
"Centro institucional el ROBLE"
El Roble de Puntarenas
Puntarenas, Costa Rica
America central
we talk nearly daily on the phone, he calls, i call, sometimes he has important news, like when the wandering dog watched the inmates football game with him, or the time they got a second mango! often about his writings, he is nearly finished with the script for a movie and the hero just got shot and is dying.
and sometimes he wonders and worries about something small that happened when i was a kid, or when linda's twins were born.
all things considered he is fine, works in the prison library. Yes, the even have english books there, left behind by other inmates. He told me of the other Gringo, an american who got 12 years for seducing a minor, a 16 year old who happened to be the niece or cousin of someone important... What he actually did was smoke a joint with her and her 2 girlfriends. he will sit there till 2012. This gringo has read every book in the library and is starting afresh, by book 1.
Dear readers,... Please send books for them!
Kiss to all, from Bradley and from me
Bradley Haylock
"Centro institucional el ROBLE"
El Roble de Puntarenas
Puntarenas, Costa Rica
America central
Friday, May 4, 2007
holly's story
so as you all see, he is alive and kicking, furious and cheerful. He is busy reading and reading and writing his comments on history, on politics...
He called yesterday out of boredom he said, just to hear what i'm doing, what i'm wearing.
we're all counting the days. November 24th.
He called yesterday out of boredom he said, just to hear what i'm doing, what i'm wearing.
we're all counting the days. November 24th.
other writings by Bradford X!
http://liberalforum.org/liberalforum//index.php?showtopic=21537
check it out!
check it out!
april 13, 2007, comments on WW1!
Out of marijuana, out of cash. No money to buy it along with che-cha, food from outside or any of the goodies which make the loss of liberty palatable. i smoked my last joint yesterday, today i feel very depressed. it is hard to write coherently. It is only through the immense love i feel for all my readers, you folks out there, that i can squeeze a few words frommy pen.
Nothing exciting is happening with these fat middle aged sex offenders i'm stuck with. The football games are monotonous. The relief is i don't have to smell the smell of crack smoke anymore. I'm reading about the big war, 1914-1918, the last day. This was a personal feud between kings, czars, kaisers, popes, emperors, financed by capitalists. it was as if Machiavelli had returned to earth claiming divine privileges from an invisible god, claiming Faustian economics, paid for in human blood. And along comes woodrow wilson, the 28th president of the united states, who with a great feeling for fiscal satire, makes it possibleto finance warfare on credit. Fight first, pay later, but you have to win the war! then you can get the other fellow to pay for it all. Wilson believed he was in direct communication with God, had a self-righteousness that knows what is the correct procedure for everyone. I delegate woodrow wilson to the bottom, as the worst american president ever elected. He was called the "englishman in disguise". He conspired with Winston Churchill to get the United States into the war on the allied side. The deal included the scarifice of the Lusitania, the passenger liner, with americans aboard. Churchill was desperate and agreed to Wilson's terms, making wilson peace maker of the world. Terms included the dissolution of the british empire and entry into the war after the american elections,ayear and a half after the sinking of the lusitania. And america agreed not produce any armaments, but to buy it all from the english and french on credit.
This story is toolong to tell properly here. but i am shocked and horrified at what i amdiscovering.the entire matter of the Lusitania was a lie and a coverup.I call it a deliberate murder for profit.
Nothing exciting is happening with these fat middle aged sex offenders i'm stuck with. The football games are monotonous. The relief is i don't have to smell the smell of crack smoke anymore. I'm reading about the big war, 1914-1918, the last day. This was a personal feud between kings, czars, kaisers, popes, emperors, financed by capitalists. it was as if Machiavelli had returned to earth claiming divine privileges from an invisible god, claiming Faustian economics, paid for in human blood. And along comes woodrow wilson, the 28th president of the united states, who with a great feeling for fiscal satire, makes it possibleto finance warfare on credit. Fight first, pay later, but you have to win the war! then you can get the other fellow to pay for it all. Wilson believed he was in direct communication with God, had a self-righteousness that knows what is the correct procedure for everyone. I delegate woodrow wilson to the bottom, as the worst american president ever elected. He was called the "englishman in disguise". He conspired with Winston Churchill to get the United States into the war on the allied side. The deal included the scarifice of the Lusitania, the passenger liner, with americans aboard. Churchill was desperate and agreed to Wilson's terms, making wilson peace maker of the world. Terms included the dissolution of the british empire and entry into the war after the american elections,ayear and a half after the sinking of the lusitania. And america agreed not produce any armaments, but to buy it all from the english and french on credit.
This story is toolong to tell properly here. but i am shocked and horrified at what i amdiscovering.the entire matter of the Lusitania was a lie and a coverup.I call it a deliberate murder for profit.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
phone call
... he just called to say he refused the eye operation. he would have to pay 1500$ for it, and he's saving every penny for a flight to Europe the minute he gets out. I promised him the ticket will be waiting, he just has to have his operation now.
he did consult with a doctor in Puntarenas, he was very excited to see a city and people in the streets after 2 years. And guess what: they took off his handcuffs in the doctor's office! that was a special treatment for him alone, the others usually must keep cuffs on the whole time they are out of the prison.
He's fine, writing articles for the paper on americans in Costa Rica, sends his love to all readers.
Still no news on the animal clinic, but there are 2 dogs on the prison grounds, though he hasn't seen the kitten anymore.
He is also very excited about the trip erik and Theo and i are planning this summer, sailing to England and France. So i sent him a book on coastal sailing in England, so he can prepare. He says what he has said all my life: "go for it, Do it!" but i can hear in his voice that he is pretty afraid for us.
Kiss to all
Holly
he did consult with a doctor in Puntarenas, he was very excited to see a city and people in the streets after 2 years. And guess what: they took off his handcuffs in the doctor's office! that was a special treatment for him alone, the others usually must keep cuffs on the whole time they are out of the prison.
He's fine, writing articles for the paper on americans in Costa Rica, sends his love to all readers.
Still no news on the animal clinic, but there are 2 dogs on the prison grounds, though he hasn't seen the kitten anymore.
He is also very excited about the trip erik and Theo and i are planning this summer, sailing to England and France. So i sent him a book on coastal sailing in England, so he can prepare. He says what he has said all my life: "go for it, Do it!" but i can hear in his voice that he is pretty afraid for us.
Kiss to all
Holly
Thursday, April 19, 2007
another letter
20 march 2007
My new barracks are for prisoners who seem to have done more than half of their time. My new cellmates, mostly sex offenders, do menial labor on the prison grounds. Cooks, dishwashers, gardeners etc. I first i believed i would have the freedom of the yard during the day.No, only on sundays, and wednesdays can i promenade to the football field. During the working hours i am left alone in solitude at the barracks, and that is a GIGANTIC plus! I have served the majority of the time i will be here, just like my shipmates. Some of them have been inside a very long time, fat old balding men, they look like senior business executives. These men are somber and beaten. Their families have long deserted them. An occasional mother comes to visit, but that's it. It is so much more tranquil here without the constant grab-ass, the quick tempers of the younger people who just started their time.
I am also different. After the loss of "senor citizen quarters" I have lost interest in others. I do not want to know these new people, these criminals. I have ignored the friendship overtures except maybe this one elderly gentleman who makes guitars. He gives concerts on visitors day, i really want to get down and jam with him, but this place is different. I know now that half of 5 years is 2 years and 6 months. It will be november and that's final. I will do it, i will survive. I have arranged a visit to the dentist and to the eye doctor. My only problem is i'm out of marijuana. Now that's a real Problem.
My new barracks are for prisoners who seem to have done more than half of their time. My new cellmates, mostly sex offenders, do menial labor on the prison grounds. Cooks, dishwashers, gardeners etc. I first i believed i would have the freedom of the yard during the day.No, only on sundays, and wednesdays can i promenade to the football field. During the working hours i am left alone in solitude at the barracks, and that is a GIGANTIC plus! I have served the majority of the time i will be here, just like my shipmates. Some of them have been inside a very long time, fat old balding men, they look like senior business executives. These men are somber and beaten. Their families have long deserted them. An occasional mother comes to visit, but that's it. It is so much more tranquil here without the constant grab-ass, the quick tempers of the younger people who just started their time.
I am also different. After the loss of "senor citizen quarters" I have lost interest in others. I do not want to know these new people, these criminals. I have ignored the friendship overtures except maybe this one elderly gentleman who makes guitars. He gives concerts on visitors day, i really want to get down and jam with him, but this place is different. I know now that half of 5 years is 2 years and 6 months. It will be november and that's final. I will do it, i will survive. I have arranged a visit to the dentist and to the eye doctor. My only problem is i'm out of marijuana. Now that's a real Problem.
Holly's side
Just spoke again to Brad, he hasn't called for 10 days. It does worry me when he doesn't call. So i sit down with a phone card, a cup of tea and start dialing. If i try 25 times in a row i can usually get through at some point. I can't get through on the regular phone lines, the number is blocked to international calls. Only with the phone cards, and everybody knows what a bitch that is... takes forever to dial a number. But sometimes, it works. Then the trouble starts: i try to explain i'd like to speak to "Braolio" in spanish, and go through three different people before i find one who understands my english-italian, and finally i get him on the line. A few tears each time, standard questions are "what did you eat, what are you wearing..." and he tells his news.
Anyway he is fine, the cataract operation was scheduled for today (last week was ~La Semana Santa!~) and the 2 weeks before the truck was broken. Today it wasn't the truck, the electricity fell out all over the place. So the prisoners all spent the day outside, no work, just sitting in the grass. Bradley started carving and working with his hands. Not bad...
He also told me something fabulous has happened: they opened on the prison grounds an animal shelter/clininc! he is on the list to do volunteer work there. and last night a lost kitten crawled in bed beside him. Now, this is the man who refused to leave the island during a hurricane alert, because his dog would be afraid without him!
ok that's it for now, he sends his greetings to all readers and hopes for loads of reactions! so people, leave a message.
Anyway he is fine, the cataract operation was scheduled for today (last week was ~La Semana Santa!~) and the 2 weeks before the truck was broken. Today it wasn't the truck, the electricity fell out all over the place. So the prisoners all spent the day outside, no work, just sitting in the grass. Bradley started carving and working with his hands. Not bad...
He also told me something fabulous has happened: they opened on the prison grounds an animal shelter/clininc! he is on the list to do volunteer work there. and last night a lost kitten crawled in bed beside him. Now, this is the man who refused to leave the island during a hurricane alert, because his dog would be afraid without him!
ok that's it for now, he sends his greetings to all readers and hopes for loads of reactions! so people, leave a message.
Monday, April 16, 2007
diary of sorts... from Costa Rica.
january 07.
This day is special. I have given upall hope of release through the system, reduction of charges, my age, my non-existant "criminal-history". I see this is all emptiness. The outside is november. ten more months. Today i accept this, I feel a song in my heart. I cannot feel upset over trifles when i have so much going for me, besides an ear-splitting gratitude for another sunrise.I hear the voice of Perry Como, crooning the marriage between love and hope. The music television seems to know i am watching, it'splaying only my favorites. The spanish have an aptitude to let it all go on the dance floor. The day i will return to my audience and my microphone is coming. I will survive these boiled eyes with empty unseeing visions of nothing but concrete walls, with steel-barred skylight for the next twenty or thirty or even fifty years. NOT ME!
january 17th.
Wednesday! Big interpenal football game. During the game, it will be my duty to hold on to the 20 grams of crack which the winners will receive. I will attend in my official capacity, but it is too nice a day to just sit and observe this organized mayham.
The game begins with a vicious kick-off; no referee.Back and forth inside the fenced perimeter of the playing field. As i watch the kicking, the intense running, the precise feet, i notice something else watching the game. Outside the fence is a medium sized brown and white dog intently enjoying the activity. Back and forth, this ecstatic canine followed the action from the fence. All things considered i prefer dogs to people.Man's best friend, better to say: Man's only friend, ever.
The harsh game continued at a brisk pace. to a draw! nothing to nothing. The male violence increased toplain violence. A fist fight broke out. The guards were called in to stop the struggle. The struggle for the contents of my pocket... All back inside. Football was cancelled, the game was called off, champions were chosen to square off and settle the bets, men to men. I did not watch the bout. it was decided to settle all bets with the fists. The dog will have to find his entertainment elsewhere.
March 2007
My hair is back to an acceptable length:my shoulders. The day before that god-awful day i tried to get to Amsterdam through Madrid, i was given a haircut! Those who know me, know the problems i have always had since i was an infant. My crowning glory grew forward,society decreed it brushed back... It matted, the powers in control of my destiny called it Nappy.
Now like Samson, my locks have returned to an acceptable length. I look fabulous! The beard will soon have a tint"just for men". I need a shampoo!
March 2007.
Disease, Disaster, Destruction. All hopes for Senior accomodations were crushed, through lies lies lies.They say i did not take advantage of the possibility of rehabilitation that was offered me, i made no contribution to the system, i have no family living in the united states to vouch for my parole... This is ridiculous! They are saying i have never taught an english class in jail (i have, every day, even to the guards!) They say i haven't followed the Aids and drugs rehabilitation classes (i have!) they even deny i have family living in Miami, in Tampa, in New York, in New Orleans. Absurd and so effective denials. My lament is i believed in Costa Rica, in the system. I really love this country. I am hurt! It is like a woman i love, who would lie and dismiss any emotional involvement i have with her. I sit and watch my students, my former illiterate students, now reading a newspaper, now writing letters to their family. I taught them how to read! How to write! The system denies these fantastic achievements.
Later, i learned that these luxury quarters are always denied to common people, they are reserved for the politicians and rich crooks, they knew this when i was planning and sending for my dog to join me there. Like Jesus. No room at the inn . Regulated to the stables. Now i can abandon this hope too. It was a lie, like so long ago when they gave me back my passport, lowered the charges against me. That night they caught me they told mesenior citizens were always automatically paroled, even before they told me i had the right to remain silent.
I would have dropped the dime on the folks who sent me, but automatic parole, that's different. i believed them, i pleaded guilty. It was all a lie.
I have said and written and sung beautiful things about costa Rica, and i will go on. But this Tica system is a lie. This is graduation day in the university of life.
I will stay in puntarenas until i leave, but i will be transferred to another section, i will be allowed to go out in the yard. A trustee. Wow!
This day is special. I have given upall hope of release through the system, reduction of charges, my age, my non-existant "criminal-history". I see this is all emptiness. The outside is november. ten more months. Today i accept this, I feel a song in my heart. I cannot feel upset over trifles when i have so much going for me, besides an ear-splitting gratitude for another sunrise.I hear the voice of Perry Como, crooning the marriage between love and hope. The music television seems to know i am watching, it'splaying only my favorites. The spanish have an aptitude to let it all go on the dance floor. The day i will return to my audience and my microphone is coming. I will survive these boiled eyes with empty unseeing visions of nothing but concrete walls, with steel-barred skylight for the next twenty or thirty or even fifty years. NOT ME!
january 17th.
Wednesday! Big interpenal football game. During the game, it will be my duty to hold on to the 20 grams of crack which the winners will receive. I will attend in my official capacity, but it is too nice a day to just sit and observe this organized mayham.
The game begins with a vicious kick-off; no referee.Back and forth inside the fenced perimeter of the playing field. As i watch the kicking, the intense running, the precise feet, i notice something else watching the game. Outside the fence is a medium sized brown and white dog intently enjoying the activity. Back and forth, this ecstatic canine followed the action from the fence. All things considered i prefer dogs to people.Man's best friend, better to say: Man's only friend, ever.
The harsh game continued at a brisk pace. to a draw! nothing to nothing. The male violence increased toplain violence. A fist fight broke out. The guards were called in to stop the struggle. The struggle for the contents of my pocket... All back inside. Football was cancelled, the game was called off, champions were chosen to square off and settle the bets, men to men. I did not watch the bout. it was decided to settle all bets with the fists. The dog will have to find his entertainment elsewhere.
March 2007
My hair is back to an acceptable length:my shoulders. The day before that god-awful day i tried to get to Amsterdam through Madrid, i was given a haircut! Those who know me, know the problems i have always had since i was an infant. My crowning glory grew forward,society decreed it brushed back... It matted, the powers in control of my destiny called it Nappy.
Now like Samson, my locks have returned to an acceptable length. I look fabulous! The beard will soon have a tint"just for men". I need a shampoo!
March 2007.
Disease, Disaster, Destruction. All hopes for Senior accomodations were crushed, through lies lies lies.They say i did not take advantage of the possibility of rehabilitation that was offered me, i made no contribution to the system, i have no family living in the united states to vouch for my parole... This is ridiculous! They are saying i have never taught an english class in jail (i have, every day, even to the guards!) They say i haven't followed the Aids and drugs rehabilitation classes (i have!) they even deny i have family living in Miami, in Tampa, in New York, in New Orleans. Absurd and so effective denials. My lament is i believed in Costa Rica, in the system. I really love this country. I am hurt! It is like a woman i love, who would lie and dismiss any emotional involvement i have with her. I sit and watch my students, my former illiterate students, now reading a newspaper, now writing letters to their family. I taught them how to read! How to write! The system denies these fantastic achievements.
Later, i learned that these luxury quarters are always denied to common people, they are reserved for the politicians and rich crooks, they knew this when i was planning and sending for my dog to join me there. Like Jesus. No room at the inn . Regulated to the stables. Now i can abandon this hope too. It was a lie, like so long ago when they gave me back my passport, lowered the charges against me. That night they caught me they told mesenior citizens were always automatically paroled, even before they told me i had the right to remain silent.
I would have dropped the dime on the folks who sent me, but automatic parole, that's different. i believed them, i pleaded guilty. It was all a lie.
I have said and written and sung beautiful things about costa Rica, and i will go on. But this Tica system is a lie. This is graduation day in the university of life.
I will stay in puntarenas until i leave, but i will be transferred to another section, i will be allowed to go out in the yard. A trustee. Wow!
poems from jail
Just received this poem, written in jail in Costa Rica.
One day each week is insignificant.
One day every week is a non-event.
Other days have lots of class,
Only wednesday finishes last.
Saturday or sunday is Sabbath to someone.
Evangelical Gospel is completely overdone.
Thor'smighty hammer defines it's day.
The sky is alive when Thor has his say.
Old hard tuesday is famous in song.
Friday is payday when it comes along.
A new week commences every monday.
All this ignores only one day.
I claim wednesday formy day.
In my world i have my say.
I command wednesday, it's divine.
I say wednesday is allmine.
Bradford X, march 2007.
That airport cop spotted me quick
He was the aerodrome's top kick
The pinnacle of self betrayal
Now i'm locked inside your jail.
My face turned red when he spotted me
I am your new incarceree
you make the rules and i accept
I pay the price of that intercept.
You like to snot and spit on the floor
You wipe your ass on the bathroom door.
You dig your nose past your knuckle
Then lick your fingers with a chuckle.
I must be careful inside your jail.
I am inside your manure pail.
I will endure and face the facts
I will survive AND remain intact.
Bradford x, march 2007
One day each week is insignificant.
One day every week is a non-event.
Other days have lots of class,
Only wednesday finishes last.
Saturday or sunday is Sabbath to someone.
Evangelical Gospel is completely overdone.
Thor'smighty hammer defines it's day.
The sky is alive when Thor has his say.
Old hard tuesday is famous in song.
Friday is payday when it comes along.
A new week commences every monday.
All this ignores only one day.
I claim wednesday formy day.
In my world i have my say.
I command wednesday, it's divine.
I say wednesday is allmine.
Bradford X, march 2007.
That airport cop spotted me quick
He was the aerodrome's top kick
The pinnacle of self betrayal
Now i'm locked inside your jail.
My face turned red when he spotted me
I am your new incarceree
you make the rules and i accept
I pay the price of that intercept.
You like to snot and spit on the floor
You wipe your ass on the bathroom door.
You dig your nose past your knuckle
Then lick your fingers with a chuckle.
I must be careful inside your jail.
I am inside your manure pail.
I will endure and face the facts
I will survive AND remain intact.
Bradford x, march 2007
poems from jail
Just received this poem, written in jail in Costa Rica.
One day each week is insignificant.
One day every week is a non-event.
Other days have lots of class,
Only wednesday finishes last.
Saturday or sunday is Sabbath to someone.
Evangelical Gospel is completely overdone.
Thor'smighty hammer defines it's day.
The sky is alive when Thor has his say.
Old hard tuesday is famous in song.
Friday is payday when it comes along.
A new week commences every monday.
All this ignores only one day.
I claim wednesday formy day.
In my world i have my say.
I command wednesday, it's divine.
I say wednesday is allmine.
Bradford X,march 2007.
One day each week is insignificant.
One day every week is a non-event.
Other days have lots of class,
Only wednesday finishes last.
Saturday or sunday is Sabbath to someone.
Evangelical Gospel is completely overdone.
Thor'smighty hammer defines it's day.
The sky is alive when Thor has his say.
Old hard tuesday is famous in song.
Friday is payday when it comes along.
A new week commences every monday.
All this ignores only one day.
I claim wednesday formy day.
In my world i have my say.
I command wednesday, it's divine.
I say wednesday is allmine.
Bradford X,march 2007.
Monday, March 26, 2007
1 week later
the operation was cancelled last week, poor old father waited all day dressed in his very best clothes... they didn't show up to pick him up. they told him the next day the truck was broken... Anyway, mañana. He is fine, he is busy, he is delighted with the book i sent him on the last few hours of the first world war... He is also very proud that he has his own web page, his own blog, and hopes for a lot of comments. He asked me to post some of his writings. Will do so.
greetings to all
holly/Bradley
greetings to all
holly/Bradley
Sunday, March 18, 2007
News! news! news!
Our Poor Old Father as he likes to call himself, has been moved to another block, the E1. We were expecting him to be transferred to Ajuelo, a much better place near San Jose for the rich and old prisoners, but it seems Ajuelo is full and he will have to wait until someone dies or... He really wanted to go there because in Ajuelo the prisoners are allowed a dog and a laptop. And... more privacy. Which isn't difficult, he could hardly have less than what he has now. 125 men in an area smaller than a football field, 20 to a room, the only privacy is your own bed if you own an extra sheet to hang from the bed above yours... Anyway this is old! because bradley has been transferred like i said to E1, E1 is full of model prisoners who work in the day time on the prison grounds. He does not work so he is left behind, which means he is practically alone all day long! he is so happy... also he is allowed to walk in and outside, to SIT ON THE GRASS and he has heard the birdies sing for the first time in a year and a half! he is fine, now that he has a minimum of space to work, to study or to play switch as he says.
He wants/ needs books. he is 73 and finally has plenty of leisure to read, he is also sober most of the time (unless he gets his hands on some Checha!, (self made poison from rotten apples and sugar) and is aching for distraction.
He is interested in... everything: politics, religion,feminism, democracy,science,astronomy...Address:
" Bradley Haylock
Centro Institucional El ROBLE
Roble de Puntarenas
PuntarenasCosta Rica 506
Centro America"
Bad news from Belize: his dog Tiger has been hit by a car, and i believe Tiger is dead but am not sure... will call later.
Other news: he is getting an operation this tuesday, he is almost blind in one eye from cataracts, but this means he will be taken out of the jail, to a hospital in Puntarenas for the operation. That means he will get to see people, pretty ladies, new faces.., he is so excited he decided to have his eyes operated on one at a time, so he will be taken out twice for a few hours.
He sends his love to all, so do i!
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