JUSTICE, HUMAN RIGHTS, AND CORRUPTION IN CANADA!

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BETRAYAL IN CANADA…

A DEMOCRATIC REVENGE!

Dr. Ahmed El-Meadawy

6 February 2011

QB File-TK No.: 080332257Q1-01-001

PC File-TK No.: 080332257P1-01-002

Action No.: 080332257Q1

Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada

THE STRIPTEASE RAPE IN CANADIAN JAILS

In the Court of the city of Lethbridge of the Canadian Province of Alberta, Justice W. Vaughn Hembroff pronounced my sentence of fifteen months imprisonment, 9 months’ probation after release from jail with a mandatory participation in an anger management course and prohibition of carrying any kind of weapons for life. After the sentence had been pronounce in the afternoon of the 21^st of January 2010, the Courthouse guards led me to a corridor outside the courtroom that led to the Courthouse’s jail in the basement of the building and put handcuffs around my wrists and shackles around my ankles so that I could only walk in very short steps although there was no place to escape inside the Courthouse’s jail. And because this was my first experience as a criminal in any country, I took all what the pockets of my clothes could carry of essential things such as my razor, toothbrushes and toothpaste as I thought I would need them during my long incarceration, it was long for me, but, short for some other convicts. My clothes were, therefore, very heavy. However, the Courthouse’s guards confiscated each one of those items and recorded them piece by piece. Then, a police officer came to take my finger prints and a blood sample to be analyzed for DNA to be stored with the Canadian DNA bank to compare with evidence collected every time a crime is committed in Canada (or so). The guards took the shackles again off my hands and legs and then led me to a large hall isolated with iron bars that was divided into smaller rooms separated, also, by the iron bars and had doors of the same bars that could be closed and locked, but, they were open. There were more than ten prisoners, some of whom were in the jail’s cloth that I saw for the first time in my life. It was a blue coverall with a black strip around the waist and a black pocket at the top left area of the chest. It looked so ugly so that it can only be described as a slaves’ uniform. Inside the divided rooms, there were long benches from concrete that were parts of the walls. A native man in civil clothes was sleeping under one of those benches and was coughing and spiting frequently. Another prisoner in the blue slaves’ coverall did not stop walking back and forth between the walls. A different native man in civil clothes was lying on one of the benches alone in one of the rooms with an open door made of the iron bars. When he saw me, he sat down and invited me to sit down beside him. I did and thanked him. He belonged to the Blood Tribe of the Black Foot aboriginal Nation that had lived on and owned that part of North America before the Europeans invaded and occupied it. They left a piece of land for that native nation to live on, which is called the Blood Reserve or the Town of Standoff. The man’s name is Red Crow. The native people used to give themselves names describing the surrounding nature and animals. Red Crow told me why he was imprisoned and asked me about the reason for my incarceration because he noticed that I was suffering from the shock of being imprisoned for the first time in my life. Later, he told me that I looked so good that he thought that I was one of the guards the first time he saw me. After all convicts had arrived to the Courthouse’s prison in the basement of the large building in civilian clothes like Red Crow and myself or in the Slaves’ uniforms, the guards started putting the handcuffs around our wrists and, then, led us, one after another, to the prisoners’ transportation vans. Each van contained two boxes, one inside the other. The internal one was made of metal with very small holes in the size of mastered seeds with two side benches facing each other that could fit six persons in total. After all prisoners were squeezed inside the van, the guards locked both boxes with keys. I was squeezed with other five males. Two guards occupied the comfortable front seats and one of them started driving. The other one turned the radio on as if that was a normal practice. The prisoners in front of and beside me were chatting together as if the entire event was a usual incidence, too. Nothing seemed normal to me at all as I was suffering from being convicted for the first time in my life in addition to my struggle to keep my balance because there was nothing to hold while the vehicle was moving in all directions. The van was driven in the streets of Lethbridge, a city in the South of the Canadian Province of Alberta at the northern US border. I worked twelve years in that town as a taxi and delivery driver after I had worked as a researcher (scientist) with the Federal Government. That sounds strange, but, stranger things will be further reported in this story. The van arrived at the city’s jail that is called the Lethbridge Correctional Center. The name gives the impression that it corrects the criminal behavior of convicts and turns them into good people, assuming that they are bad people. But, after I spent the entire period of my sentence of 303 days, I found that the name is deceptive and the jail does not correct anything. The opposite, however, is true. The Canadian jails are centers where criminals meet and spread the arts of the criminal knowledge, upgrade amateur criminals to professionals, allow gangs’ members to meet, are sources of new recruits of future criminals and gang members, and are schools for teaching, production and practicing all kinds of crimes. The guards unloaded us into the criminals’ reception area of the jail and took the shackles off. The jail’s guards wore dark blue uniforms and sent the newcomers to several large separated cells beside each other and facing the administration office with large glass windows to allow watching the entire reception area and the inside of all the surrounding cells whose steel doors were locked and unlocked like all the jail’s other cells by the guards who touched numbered buttons on monitors in front of them corresponding to the cells and in the same configuration. The separated cells served as isolated confinements of the prisoners to allow controlling them efficiently and to minimize the possibility of fights among them during the waiting time while the administration guards registered the newcomers, I guess.

I was confined in a cell where some of the prisoners were still busy chatting and the sick native man in the civilian clothes continued to sleep on the dirty floor. Red Crow sat in front of me and noticed that I was still suffering from the same Shock. Inside the administration office, two guards in their late fifties were patiently registering the newcomers, one after another, recording the individual items of their properties to confiscate and keep them stored during the entire period of their sentences, and taking pictures for every prisoner to keep it with the records and issue identification cards that accompanied every inmate wherever he moved inside the jail. The Registration process took several hours. I was the last one to be registered. But, that was not the end of the registration process.

The next step added a new shock to the first one of being for the first time a Canadian criminal. A guard ordered me to enter another room attached to the reception area. It was facing a large window, behind which a guard was standing and ordered me to take my clothes off, piece by piece, until I became completely necked except of my lower under ware. Shamelessly, he ordered me to take it off in front of him. After hesitation, I did. He ordered me, further, to raise my genitals to see behind them and then ordered me to turn around and bend forward to see the center of my bum. That sadist process was nothing but a rape and humiliation that I have never experienced in my life, although, Canadian propaganda TV programs describe how the Canadian jails are civilized in comparison to all other countries’ prisons, especially, the USA. That shameless guard was standing in the prisoners’ Property Department, where their possessions and cloths were confiscated and put in large transparent plastic (garbage) bags, sealed, and stored until the time of their release.

Later I learned that professional criminals and trained prisoners of moderate intelligence smuggled prohibited items, especially, drugs inside their rectums without any traces outside their bodies so that the searching guards could not find anything during the striptease search (rape) as the law did not allow them to touch the naked inmates while searching them. Using this method, every smuggler can hide up to a half kilogram of illegal drugs to be sold inside the jail for prices five folds more than the prices outside the prison. This is a proof that the only purpose of the strip search is the sadistic humiliation of prisoners as it is useless and does not prevent smuggling inside the Canadian jails that are flooded with illegal drugs against the “correctional” will of the democratic Canadian Government. The sadist Government employees defend the striptease rapes because they, some time, catch some smuggled items hidden inside the clothes or between the clothes and the naked prisoners’ bodies. Those cases are extremely rare and indicate the level of stupidity of such smugglers. Those catches do not justify the violation of human rights inside the Canadian jails. Later, a professional drug smuggler and dealer told me that a person can hide up to a kilogram of some drugs inside the human body after wrapping the drugs carefully inside plastic foils, like the ones used for wrapping food, for a complete insulation in the shape of sausage. A half kilogram in small pieces of such sausages is swallowed. Another half kilogram, protected in the same way, is stuffed inside the rectum. Using this method allows the smuggling of any material that can fit in the mentioned body parts undetected by the sadist striptease rape of the Canadian jails’ employees, who defend hysterically the mentioned method as if it prevents the flooding of the Canadian jails of all sorts of illegal items. Tobacco, cigarette lighters, and small weapons are, also, smuggled using the mentioned method undetected. The sadist Government and its employees do not accept that there is a need for a civilized way to find the smuggled items that cannot be cheated such as X-ray or magnetic resonance imaging instruments. There is no doubt that they enjoy the striptease rape they subject their victims to, humiliating, and violating their basic human rights granted by the Canadian Constitution and Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms. Although the Canadian Government brags about its record of respecting human rights and being a leader in that field among all nations of the World, it actually violates its citizens’ and residents’ human rights in deed.

After the guards had finished striptease raping me, they sent me to a neighboring room in front of the jail’s main laundry room to receive from another guard the blue slaves’ cloth, a pair of blue shoes that felt as made of paper, two pairs of black socks, a pair of underwear, two white towels, bedding, and a white mesh bag to be used as a suitcase and a laundry bag at the same time. Of course, everything was used tens, if not hundreds, of times except the paper shoes. I tried to cover my naked body as soon as I could although the striptease rape humiliation had been irreversible and can never be repaired like a crystal vase when it falls on the ground and breaks into thousands of pieces. Afterward, I found my way, as cattle, pigs, and sheep find their way to their pins and transportation trucks, to an iron door of an isolation cell facing the administration office. I saw through the glass window at the top of the door all newcomers in their blue slaves’ cloths with their over filled white mesh bags sitting or lying on the long concrete benches that were a part of the cell’s walls waiting for the next step of the jail’s welcome process. I was still standing in front of that locked door not knowing what to do until one of my fellow prisoners noticed me and pointed to a button in the wall beside the door. I pushed the button and the door was unlocked like Ali Baba cave’s gate in an Iraqi mountain when he said: open sesame! I entered and sat on one of the benches.

All of us were waiting for the nice nurse Mike, in the fifties of his age, to ask us about the diseases we were carrying, the medications we were taking, and other health concerns. It was a rare exception to address a jail’s employee with his bare first name as it is the habit among all North Americans. The rule had been talking to the upper class of the jail’s employees using the title of Mr. or Ms. before mentioning their last names in contrast to addressing the prisoners by the jail’s staff using their last names without any titles as a part of the humiliating punishment. The nurse Mike told me a very friendly advice to complain to the guards if any of the convicts harassed me. I did appreciate his friendliness, but, he did not know what he was talking about. Anyhow, I still appreciate his kindness, though, his advice was fatal.

Later during the journey of the democratic punishment, I noticed that female prisoners wore respectful clothes such as blue jeans, khaki T-shirts, and black sweatshirts. The difference in appearance was like the difference between a master and a slave, although, the late Canadian Prime Minister and State’s Man Pierre Elliott Trudeau spent all of his era in government (over 15 years) trying to and succeeded at last in including the Canadian Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms within the Canadian Constitution that prohibits discrimination among human beings living on Canadian soil based on many factors including gender. The difference in the appearance between the male and female prisoners seemed to me to be another violation of the Canadian Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms. No doubt, women were discriminated against during the entire human history. Now, it is the time to reverse the roles despite the Canadian Constitution. The females occupied only one unit of the eight units that the “Correctional” prison included. Does this mean that Canadian women commit only one-eighth of the Canadian crimes?

THE CASTLE OF CRIME, PUNISHMENT, AND

HUMILIATION

After a short interview by the nurse Mike, A guard led us to different units of the jail’s eight units. I landed with others inside Unit 6 that consisted of three floors. Two upper and lower floors were a copy of each other. Each one contained eighteen cells with a maximum unit capacity of seventy two prisoners. Every one of five similar units (from four to eight) contained around seventy prisoners at any given time. The other three units (from 1 to 3) were smaller with a maximum capacity of no more than 30 inmates each. In Unit 6, the third floor was between and facing the other two levels that housed the cells and contained an office where two guards administrated the entire unit with large glass windows that allowed them to observe the thirty six cells, corridors, and prisoners. The office had a computer and other screens showing live pictures for all common areas inside the unit and outside its main door that the jail’s cameras sent except for some hidden areas where many prisoners used to, illegally, smoke tobacco and weed smuggled inside the smugglers’ bums. I could not understand why there were no cameras installed to cover those obscured zones. That same floor contained another small office for individual government agents’ interviews with prisoners, a laundry room to wash the unit inmates’ cloths, and a large common hall with tables and plastic seats for the unit’s convicts to eat the daily very miserable meals that had never filled an adult. Inmates used the tables and seats, also, to sit down and chat about their criminal and legal adventures and to play cards, chess, backgammon, and some other board games owned by the jail. In addition to eighteen cells, each of the identical floors contained two showers facing the administration office and a TV room. The unit guards controlled locking and unlocking all or the individual cells using a computer screen that showed all the doors inside the unit as numbered squares in the same arrangement as it had been in the reality. They, also, could talk to the prisoners inside their individual cells using intercom systems installed in each cell that contained a radio system at the same time that allowed the reception of some selected radio stations. Prisoners could contact the guards using the same system, as well.

When I arrived to that unit around 9:00 p.m., the unit’s guard asked whether it was my first time in jail. I said yes and he introduced me to the fellow criminals of the unit in the large hall saying: “a new fish”. All of them exploded laughing in great happiness. He gave me a thin khaki mattress, introduced me to 28-year old Billy whose head was completely shaved and looked like a clean mirror, and sent me to his single bunk cell number 9 to be his new roommate. I was still suffering from the complex shock of the day’s events and trying to comprehend the humiliating bewildering situation around me with a great difficulty. As I was trying to spread the mattress on the floor in the cell between Billy’s bed, the wall under four plastic shelves attached to the cell’s wall, the small ceramic sink, a ceramic toilet without a seat or a cover, and the iron door, Billy started asking me what my crime and how long my sentence were. He wanted to make sure that I was not convicted for a sex offense because such convicts are considered by the general public of criminals as dirty criminals. They are assaulted, could be killed, and isolated by the jails’ authorities from all other inmates, and pose a great difficulty to protect. They are moved from one prison to another where the government hopes that no one would recognize them.

LAWS OF THE CANADIAN CRIMINAL WORLD

I started realizing that there are laws that controled the World of criminals in addition to the state’s legal system and that both sets of laws clashed together in order to control the world of prisoners inside the Canadian jails. Criminals have created criminal, social, ethical, business, and political rules and enforce them fiercely in defiance to the state, its authority, and agents. The more I spent time inside the jail the more I observed that the state’s legal system is nothing but a paper tiger.

The criminals’ constitution is the same inside all Canadian jails. The level of its enforcement varies according to the level of criminality and criminal professionalism. It is stricter inside federal jails where the most dangerous criminals with more than two-year sentence terms are incarcerated. In provincial jails like the one that hosted me for ten months where less dangerous criminals with jail terms of less than two years are imprisoned, the enforcement of the criminals’ code of conduct is less strict that it would anger the federal jails’ inmates when they land in a provincial jail to spend a term less than two years. The cause of the different levels of upholding the criminals’ code of conduct might be the diverse standards of criminal professionalism. In any case, newer criminals learn that set of laws from the older and more professional ones so that it continues to live and thrive in all Canadian jails. The very strange thing is the paralysis of the state’s legal system inside the Canadian so called “Correctional” Centers and the acceptance of and submission to the criminals’ rules by the government agents. Criminals punish violently anyone whom they suspect to have violated their rules; some can lose their lives as a penalty. As a result, inmates in the Canadian jails suffer from the conflicting forces of the state’s laws and the criminals’ code of criminal conduct. Any inmate, who is threatened by the general public of criminals inside a Canadian jail, is isolated by the jail’s authority for his protection as a submission to the criminals’ powers. In other words, the internal world of Canadian jails is ruled by the criminals, practically, whereby the Canadian legal system is completely suspended due to the complete complicity and impotency of the Canadian Governments (provincial and federal). I have to mention that complicity and impotency are crimes that are described legally as “Obstruction of Justice”. More real life stories will be reported in the following chapters in association with the untouchables. Those are members of the same nation who are, practically, above the same laws that are imposed upon everyone else. Those belong to different classes according to the level of their secret immunity.

I could not accept nor acknowledge the correctness of a code of criminal behavior and ethics as I did not recognize any prisoners’ right to, criminalize, prosecute, judge, and punish anyone else. In addition, I could not agree with the criminals’ point of view that certain crimes are more criminal than others outside of the state’s system of values and culture. In contrast, most criminals found themselves qualified to implement the criminal laws inside the Canadian jails. How do I know about all Canadian jails, if I was imprisoned in only one of them? That is a fair question. For many reasons, convicts move from one jail and a jail system to another and may commit several or many crimes during their lives. They communicate their experiences wherever they go. In addition, a single incident could be observed and described many times by different convicts, which raises it to the level of being a fact. Further, the state’s civil servants confirm those events, existence, and the validity of the code of conduct inside the Canadian criminals’ world. That is a source of my reporting. The only state’s condemned crime that is acknowledged as a crime by the criminals’ world is a conviction of a sex offense. Those offenders cannot be kept among the general public of convicts inside the Canadian jails, if other convicts know the nature of their crimes. They are isolated completely from the prisoners’ population or transferred where the government thinks that a different convicts’ population does not know about the nature of the crimes committed by the offenders need to be protected. Those sex offenders are victims of the general public of criminals who play a psychological game to raise themselves above someone else to feel better and more civilized. That attitude is criminal and gives an excuse to commit crimes in the name of higher morals as an expression of aggression and criminal desires. Later, I met an offender who told me, proudly, that he had executed another sex offender himself without significant consequences as a privilege of being in a Canadian jail, where crimes are allowed without submission to the legal system that applies to the outside World. The Canadian state is, no doubt, complicit by allowing the code of criminal conduct to exist and function for the reasons reported as this story unfolds. Being a complicit means being criminal. Being criminal without submission to the “corrupt” legal system for trial is how untouchables are, secretly, immune to the state’s laws that apply to the common man. Even submission to the corrupt legal system would not criminalize the immune lower cast of the untouchables as the story of the Lethbridge Police officer Lyle Millhouse will show later. The upper classes of them are not allowed to be known to exist at all.

In addition to the state’s impotency and complicity with crime, a core democratic corruption is the collection and concentration of the society’s criminals in crime production factories that are, deceitfully, called “correctional” centers that create, spread, and strengthen the criminal behavior, culture, and attitude. Those crime centers allow practicing and training of the culture of crime and igniting life in crime throughout generations by the state that provides national convention centers for all criminals for consultations and recruitment of future criminals. At the same time, the state fails to protect inmates incarcerated from the criminals’ laws and their crimes inside the jails.

THE BETRAYAL

Main Characters:

Art (Arthur) N. Larson

W. Vaughn Hembroff

D. A. Labrenz

I tried to answer Billy’s question about the reason for my jail sentence of 15 months by describing what had happened during the early hours of the morning of 15 March 2008. I was driving my taxi minivan and took a customer to a bar in the city of Lethbridge. After he left, 4-5 drunks pulled me out of my vehicle as they were standing outside the same bar shouting and fighting together. All of them were approximately 20 years old. They were loud, very intoxicated, and mindless, surrounded me from all directions, punched, kicked, pulled, and tried to reach me from my back. They were behaving like mad dogs in the middle of the night. I had a pocket knife that was no bigger than my pointer finger and included more than ten tools one of which was a small blade which I showed them as a warning. It did not scare nor stop them from assaulting me, however, their madness increased. I had no choice but to use it to protect myself and injured four of them with minor superficial wounds. I thought that self-defense is a basic human and constitutional right, not only in Canada, but, as a universal value. The Lethbridge City Police arrested and charged me with attempted murder disregarding the very high level of intoxication of the five friends and my absolute sobriety! No forensic work was performed in regard to the sources of their impairment such as the consumption of all sorts of different illegal drugs in addition to the fact of their impairment due to a very long period of alcohol intake. Drug consumption, especially weed, among young people is, in fact, a common habit and complicates the effects of alcohol intake. The police assumed me to be the aggressor without even investigating the opposite possibility for sake of neutrality and justice. Neutrality has never been a quality of the mentioned local police. It has never practiced the commonsense hypothesis that an extremely impaired person or even a group of intoxicated teenagers would most probably be the reason for committing crimes against a sober individual. A group of impaired teenagers are much more dangerous than just one drunken person. Later that charge was, kindly, replaced with assault with a weapon causing bodily harm to four persons. The bar’s bouncer stated during the trial that the alleged victims were so impaired beyond any acceptable limit that he had to order them to leave the store after he had warned them twice to behave themselves. They were shouting, banging bottles on the tables, and harassing other bar customers. I had no doubt that the court would acquit me because the Canadian law gives the right to use reasonable force for self-defense, which I did. I never drink, smoke, or consume any sort of illegal drugs. But, from past experience, I knew that the Canadian legal system is as corrupt as it is in any Third World country and that justice has never been the main concern of that system, but, it was a legal game that needed someone who knew its rules and how to play it. That was the reason for hiring a local well known lawyer with a good reputation, Art (Arthur N. Larson), who mentioned during the trial that his experience had been 36 years (as a lawyer in the field of criminal justice). I let him know the story. He said that he believed it and that he wanted $20,000 to defend me. Because justice costs lots of money in the holy democracy of Canada, I borrowed that amount of money and paid him in advance. He recommended a higher court than the provincial one that is called the Court of Queen’s Bench, as the British Queen is still the Head of the Canadian state, with a judge and a jury. I agreed because I did not trust Canadian judges from past experiences. Later, my belief would be confirmed at a brutal price. They were biased, unfair, subjective, and not blind to everything except the subject of what they were judging. They considered many things before justice such as origin, color, religion, gender, culture, ideas, and opinion of the person they were judging and whether all those characteristics matched or differed from their own personalities before the matter in front of them and making a judgment that corresponded with the level of their sympathy with the accused ignoring the most and only job they are hired to do which is justice. Many opponents mention in Canadian courts that they had been born and raised in the town or city where the judges considering their cases reside, especially, if their opponents were not. born and raised in the same place. They influence the judges’ unfair attitudes by implicating belonging to something in common. They know very well that justice is not the main concern of the enforcers of the Canadian Legal System, but, exchange of personal favors. That works. In general judges provide more justice in regard to the matter they are considering if it commands public and media attention, when the society’s lights are focused on them. Their personal preferences are decisive when the cases they are dealing with are tried in the dark (without public interest). Judges I had experienced were shameless in their bias and unjust judgments. Complements to their colleagues of lawyers and prosecutors were more important than justice. More important had been their private interests and exchange personal favors. The vanity of many of them had been brutal and interfered with the fair conduct of their jobs. A police officer would not charge another police officer, a prosecutor, a judge, a lawyer, and a relative or a friend of all those people for crimes such as impaired driving. A judge would not convict a police officer (as this story would show later), a prosecutor, or a lawyer for committing a crime such as fraud, perjury, or abuse of power. Rare exceptions occur when the crimes of such people are impossible to cover up and to prevent from reaching the public and when escape goats are sacrificed to protect crimes of more powerful people. The Canadian Legal System is, therefore, to be described as a legal mafia like any Third World country with the exception of the Canadian shameless claim of respect of human rights as if victims of that system are blind, deaf, and dumb. The most important element of the democratic corruption is the conspiracy of the (free) mass media in supporting the entire regime and covering up its corruption. That was why I agreed to have a court of a judge and a jury of twelve common people to judge me. The judge’s role would be managing the trial and instructing the jury on the legal rules. Please, note that I am not describing every Canadian judge, but, the ones I have experienced within the democratic principle of freedom of expression that, practically, does not exist.

The trial took place two years after the event, lasted two weeks, and was reported daily in the local newspaper and media. All witnesses including the five drunks were cross-examined by the “Crown’s” Prosecutor (on behalf of the British Queen) and the defense lawyer Art Larson. A wealth of information had been released, except, that one of the drunks could not remember anything about the events subject to the trial. At least, he was honest and did not invent events that had never happened like his comrades. In contrast, the remaining four drunks had produced a lot of information although the level of their intoxication could have never allowed them to remember much of the events happened two years earlier even if they did not have a vested interest in blaming me for their savage behavior. Nonetheless, at least half of the information they had provided confirmed my statements and version of events. That should have been good enough for my acquittal. While I was cross examined, the fact that I am a doctor of science was released while I was working as a taxi driver. I have never made such information know to the public as the mix of such a qualification and the job of a taxi driver was strange. It is very common in Canada to import immigrants from the cream of other nations’ sons and daughters who end doing such jobs under the Canadian circumstances. Anyhow, that is much honorable than receiving social assistance. And because corruption is spread in the marrow of the Canadian Government, senior researchers of the Federal Government had stolen my research under the protection of the Federal Government. I did not accept that from a shameless Government that claims falsely honesty and respect of human rights. Although the strange mix of qualification and job had been a perfect piece of news, all news media ignored it, although I did not plan to reveal such information during the trial. Hiding such a weird piece of news seemed to be the typical media conspiracy not to cause embarrassment to the Canadian society as the democratic media is professional in manipulating facts and brain washing the public. That piece of information was so perfect like the principle taught at Journalist University courses that a dog biting a man is not news, but, a man biting a dog is the news. Anyhow, the local media covered the most important aspects of the trial with inaccuracy.

http://scientistsinschool.ca/pdfs/news/Program-attracts-students-to-science-Lethbridge-Herald-Jan-15-2010.pdf

http://www.albertalocalnews.com/reddeeradvocate/news/provincial/Alberta_briefs_-_January_23_2010_82611782.html

http://www.630ched.com/Channels/Reg/NewsLocal/Story.aspx?ID=1185596

http://www.900chml.com/Channels/News/Edmonton/Story.aspx?ID=1187607

It is important to explain the complex needs, abilities, condition, and role of the jury to reach a verdict. Twelve male and female residents of the city were randomly chosen to become jurors. They were forced by the power of the law to perform that job and did not have any choice to reject that duty (almost) without pay that took them away from their occupations and all other plans for two weeks. Further, they were not allowed to go home from the time they retreated for deliberation until they could reach a final verdict. That could have lasted, in theory, days or a week or two. The government, in that case, would feed and accommodate them in hotels. They had to be isolated from the outside world until they had produced a binding verdict. That made them, understandably, uninterested and unmotivated in the entire process that was unimportant for them, but, most vital for me and for “justice”. In addition, they did not have any background in law or other sciences relevant to performing the job of a juror. Education and instructions from the judge, prosecutor, and defense lawyer (Art Larson) were the only and most vital guidance for them to reach to a final verdict. Anyhow, the purpose and content of those instructions had, lawfully, to be completely different. The judge was obliged to be neutral in regard to directing the jury to a final decision of innocence or guilt. The prosecutor wanted to direct and say everything possible to convince them of my guilt. In contrast, the defense lawyer (Art Larson) had, in theory, to provide every argument in details that supported my innocence and educate them in regard to the law protecting my legal rights such as the role of reasonable doubt in forbidding a decision of guilt and that a conviction of guilt had to be based on a proof provided by the prosecutor, not a speculation or a theory that, in fact, where the base for my conviction. The prosecutor called it the “Crowns Theory”. A theory is neither a fact nor a proof, just a speculation, especially, in the presence of a vested interest in a certain outcome.

Witnesses swore the oath to tell the truth although that oath in Canadian courts is worthless, as I have never experienced that someone had been punished for perjury (lying under oath). People lie every day in Canadian courts without any consequences. In the following chapters, the story of a police officer who committed 11 perjuries in front of a judge went home smiling because the judge is corrupt. I am, also, going to tell their names. Both the prosecutor and the lawyer cross-examined the witnesses with opposite intentions to get information to serve their contradicting goals. The one wanted my conviction and the other wanted my acquittal, just in theory. The released information was the foundations that both of them would present to the jury to justify the claim of my guilt or innocence. The final, and practically the only, presentation by both men was the most important step of the trial. It had the function of convincing the untrained uneducated (in law and the criminal justice) jurors of the verdict desired. Each councilor had a single and final chance to present his solid concept of my guilt or innocence providing all supporting evidence extracted during the cross examination of all witnesses. The bottom line is that that final demonstration must have been a determined attempt to persuade the common people of the desired final judgment. But, it is important to add that that verdict had to be legal and that had to be explained, as well. The defense lawyer was expected to recommend acquittal; and the prosecutor was anticipated to ask for a conviction of guilt. Each councilor’s job was, also, to explain all legal aspects that served his purpose. The defense lawyer had the obligation to explain in details two most important corner stones to achieve a non-guilty verdict, and he did not. The first basis had to be clarifying that the prosecution was required to provide a proof of my guilt beyond any reasonable doubt. A proof means evidence and facts, not, speculations and assumptions. The second legal foundation that must have been presented had to be the legal meaning of reasonable doubt and whether it applied in my case. A conviction had to be unanimously and based on certainty and not on assumption or suspicion. The final presentation of both councilors was the foundation for the jurors’ deliberation and verdict. The judge’s role during both presentations was listening and guaranteeing that both of them followed the legal rules. He did not affect the jury to support the prosecutor or the defense lawyer and was supposed to be neutral in that regard. As that final argumentation by the defense lawyer was vital for the final verdict, the judge offered him half a day to talk to the jury as he expected that he would need such a time to be able to present all the elements that supported the claim of my innocence. That meant four hours. To my surprise, the lawyer spoke less than half an hour, said almost nothing, and mentioned very briefly only two contradictions in the drunks’ testimonies instead of over forty significant discrepancies. He added that dwelling on those contradictions would not serve any purpose and that he did not want to take any more of the jurors’ time! The man quitted and sat down! He said nothing, would have not convinced even me of my innocence, and did not explain that the prosecution carried legally the burden to prove my guilt beyond any reasonable doubt, nor did he explain what a reasonable doubt was. That is that any conviction of guilt must have been based on certainty not suspicions. He did not explain that any reasonable doubt about committing a crime would legally forbid any verdict of guilt; nor did he warn from the conviction of an innocent man, the consequences of jail and destruction of my and my family’s life, and their obligation to take their imposed job very seriously because of the seriousness of the consequences for me and justice. He needed the four hours offered to him by the judge to present a strong, organized, and detailed defense in addition to an intelligent content of such an analysis that cost me $20,000. Well, the 36-year experienced Art Larson said later that he did not want to bother the jury with a lengthy presentation. Why not? The prosecutor did and succeeded in convincing them and the judge expected a long speech. The jurors could not rely on the information released by the cross examination of all witnesses nor did they have any legal background. It is difficult to believe, but, it happened that several of them were sleeping during the cross examination in two different sessions. This had been the observation of the court’s clerk who mentioned that to the court’s reporter.

After the few empty words that the lawyer had shot at the jury, it was the prosecutors (D. A. Labrenz) turn and he did not waste his one and only opportunity. He had prepared for his presentation very well and spoke for over an hour with a very intelligent, organized, but, dishonest content. He was around twenty years younger than my lawyer, but, had shown proficiency and succeeded in convincing the jury of his “Crown’s Theory” as he literary called it. However, there was no one to explain that a theory is an illusion without any proof. A theory does not mean a fact or evidence. Everyone could theorize as he or she pleased. He did not leave any piece of information disregarding its truth or falsehood that condemned me without reporting it in all details to the jury. So, he took only the parts of the drunks’ statements that accused me of having assaulted them for no reason at all and offered his conclusion that I had been the aggressor and therefore guilty and asked them to convict me. His only concern was clearly to beat the veteran defense lawyer who, himself, did not show that he cared at all to achieve my acquittal. He played down the importance of the role a reasonable doubt that, if present, would prohibit any conviction saying to the jury that he was not expected to provide them with a scientific proof of my guilt and therefore he offered them his theory which was not an evidence of committing a crime as the law required. He did not spare an effort to persuade the uneducated jurors in law and criminal justice that I was the aggressor and had to be condemned. The other pan of the presentation scale was empty. The result had been convincing the jury that I was the aggressor and my conviction.

The lawyer noticed how long and strong the prosecutor’s speech was and asked the judge to comment, “briefly”. The judge refused not because he did not want to allow him to respond, but, because the law allowed each councilor only one chance to present their opinion. The judge told him that he had had his chance to speak and the law did not allow him to have a second chance. My 36-year experienced lawyer did not know that rule because his last jury-trial was 3 years earlier and the law had changed in between. As a result he had wasted (deliberately or unintentionally) the only opportunity available to represent me.

This is how I got convicted unanimously by the jury whom I cannot blame. However, they reached their decision after hesitation. They asked to review the statements of three witnesses who supported my version of events. After they were informed that a print out of the requested statements could be provided two hours later and the judge’s advice that they still can reach a verdict without reviewing the needed documents, they chose to convict me to save time and go back home early, especially, after the judge’s encouragement. No one told them that they could not convict someone, if they had a reasonable doubt about committing a crime in addition to the lack of any serious defense.

The job of the prosecutor, lawyer, the jurors, the court’s clerk and the court’s reporter, journalists, and some other hopefuls of my condemnation such as another prosecutor (R. N. Paziuk) has ended and all of them went home after a difficult day to have their supper and continue their comfortable lives. Journalists had some exiting news about my conviction. The judge’s work was not finished yet because he had to sentence me to a jail term according to the law enacted by the ruling Conservative Party for a crime that I had not committed.

After the business day came to an end with my conviction, I faced the lawyer Art Larson that he was the only reason for my conviction and sending me to jail. His experience and the very good local reputation he enjoyed leave no doubt that he had the intention of betraying me for reasons that only he knows, but, without losing a good chunk of money from selling me out. I cannot answer the question why he betrayed me. Anyhow, he is old and does not care anymore about his reputation because he is very close to retirement. In addition, he, most probably, was hoping that I go down in silence. But, I decided to immortalize his name and the names of all his business partners on the everlasting internet.

The judge set the date for sentencing me on the 21^st of January 2010. How long the prison’s sentence was up to his evaluation of the entire case and conditions of the crime that I had not committed. I discovered that I did not have any defense on the record and for history; therefore, I decided to write my own defense and make sure that it was included with the trial’s documents. I denounced my conviction of guilt, explained the betrayal of my lawyer, the invalidity of his fake defense, the unfairness of the trial and verdict, and listed in details over forty reasons for my innocence, lies and contradictions in the testimonies of the drunks (and the prosecutor) that I was the aggressor. I analyzed some of the prosecutor’s false logic and assumptions, criticized the weak speculations of his “theory”, and stated the invalidity of sending an innocent man to jail and destroying his and his family’s life, and that there could not be an excuse for a wrongful conviction in a society that claims respect of human rights and civility. I have to mention that the judge was not absent from what had happened in front of his eyes. In contrast to the lawyer’s empty defense, I had not left out any element that supported my innocence, the correctness of my story, witness statements that supported my version of events in a 9-page letter addressed to the “Honorable” Judge W. Vaughn Hembroff. I, also, referred to the absence of any legal explanation of the role of reasonable doubt before producing any verdict, the invalidity of a conviction with the presence of such a reasonable doubt about committing the crime subject of the trial, and the absence of a warning to the jury in regard to the seriousness of their job and the consequences of convicting an innocent man and destroying his life and his family, which have, actually, happened. My entire defense constitutes the last chapter of this story. The most important parts of Art Larson’s blank defenseare also included at the end.

At the very beginning of the court’s secession before sentencing me to jail, Art Larson was surprised as I stretched my hand with my letter to the judge, told the judge that he did not know about it, and wanted to take it from my hand. I refused and insisted that the letter be handed to the judge who said that he would let me say whatever I wanted during the last day of the trial reserved for sentencing me. Meanwhile, the lawyer tried to convince me not to deliver my letter, but, I refused. He argued that negotiating the sentence was important, the content of the letter might harm that process, and that he considered a six-month sentence a victory. I told him that the length of the sentence was meaningless compared with the wrongful conviction of an innocent man caused only by his performance. Having no defense on the record would make my position of unjustly convicted and the illegality of the trial impossible to substantiate. He did not care about me at all and his intention was to minimize the damage to his reputation, if I opened my mouth, which I did. Few minutes before the start of the last trial’s day, on which I was expected to be sentence to jail, he took me into an office beside the court’s room and told me that he was going to withdraw and he did. His sensible soul could not allow him to listen to the defense that he had not provided nor to blaming him for betraying me. He left the court room after advising that I should seek legal counseling from another lawyer in regard to the sentencing process. The judge was very impressed from Mr. Larson for his honest advice. I did not have any confidence in the local legal mafia that would not betray the relation among its members in addition to having no further ability to borrow more money to pay for a new lawyer. I paid Art Larson a huge sum to represent me during the entire trial, but, he did not fulfill his obligation and ran away. Later, a Taxation Clerk from the Courthouse (Tennille Preachuk) told me during a proceeding that I initiated against him that he gave me a steel deal by charging only $20,000 and that my conviction was not his responsibility. She meant that the mentioned price for sending me to jail was very cheap and should have been much more. I was very lucky to be able to enjoy my vacation inside the Canadian World of Crime, only, for the price of $20,000, in addition to all my financial losses as a result of the mentioned honor. The taxation process is a legal procedure to evaluate the fairness of a lawyer’s fee based on the time spent, his experience, but also, his performance, neglect, and mistakes. Anyhow, I was not surprised because I Knew that all working professionals in the legal field are members of the same legal mafia. The lady had shown a great loyalty to her masters.

I stayed alone to finish the lost battle after the lawyer had run away. Anyhow, I considered the judge as the state itself, as the state and government are abstract terms that do not exist as tangible structures on their own that can be seen, heard, or touched. Those abstracts are alive through human beings such as the judge. I wanted to make sure that he would never be able to say he did not know what had happened and escape his ultimate responsibility for justice on behalf of the illusive state of Canada. After I read my 9-page letter, the Judge, W. Vaughn Hembroff, did not care about what happened or justice, nor my guilt or innocence. He said that he was not going to “try this again”. He wanted to end the day and go home for his comfortable life and have a nice dinner with a drink after sending me to prison and then forgetting the entire headache. His conscience did not prevent him from sentencing me as if I had really committed a crime. He did not consider drunkenness in public, mischief, the possibility of consumption of drugs, and bad home education worth condemning. The prosecutor, D. A. Labrenz, asked me during the cross examination whether I disliked people who drink trying to condemn a culture not a particular action. I answered that I had never said that. But, I never drink, smoke, or consume non-medical drugs for fun. He did not care about the truthfulness and correctness of the information he was feeding to the jury nor about justice itself. He, also, was the state in that situation. All what he wanted was to win whether just or unjust. What a democratic conscience? Cultural and class condemnation of the guilty verdict can never be excluded. All trials I had witnessed earlier were nothing but shameless cultural and racial compliments.

As the judge, prosecutor (both representing the state), and a large crowd of viewers including journalists were on their way home to have dinner with a glass of wine or a beer, handcuffs and shackles were put around my wrists and ankles and I was on my way to the Castle of Horrors, Terror, Crime, and Humiliation to pay the price of the Canadian state’s corruption. But, as in most crimes, every criminal leaves a trace. The judge, W. Vaughn Hembroff, could not hide his internal attitude. His last words to the prosecutor was to let Mr. Larson know that he was sorry for him. He was sorry for the embarrassment my letter caused him and the stain attached to his reputation. He was not sorry for sending someone to jail without having a proper defense. He knew very well that I was most probably innocent and should have never been convicted under the mentioned circumstances. The bottom line was that there was no proof of my guilt in addition to the very strong doubts that existed. That should legally lave prevented any conviction of guilt. But, the judge did not care. I was just a number and did not seem to belong to the cultural and social identity of the state’s representatives and mafia members. My sentence was not an isolated violation of the Canadian Charter Human Rights and Freedoms, but, only the beginning of an experience of the rotten reality under the democratic carpet. So, the judge, W. Vaughn Hembroff, was sorry for Mr. Larson and not for sending an innocent man to Jail. What a conscience and civility? Did he think on his way home whether he had done the right thing?Did he care about doing the right thing?

Before the jury withdrew for deliberation to produce their verdict, the judge was supposed to instruct them on the law, the legal rules they were obliged to follow. That was called charging them and supposed to be neutral. In other words, he did not direct them or implied that they should find me either innocent or guilty. That job was left to them. That was not the judge’s job. The defense lawyer’s job was to educate them in regard to all the legal rules that served the accused interests in addition to presenting all information that supported a verdict of innocence. The legal rules that served the interest of the prosecution, which was having me convicted as guilty, were to be presented by the prosecutor. The judge cared mostly about having both my lawyer and the prosecutor satisfied with the trial’s procedure, which was not bad for justice. He arranged a meeting with both councilors in private without the court’s clerk and reporter, but, in my presence as the law required to discuss his intended charge to the jury with both of them. The relation among the three men had always been friendly, but, the judge criticized some of the prosecutor’s speculations against me and supported opposite assumptions from his own experience, but, that did not affect the prosecutor’s future conduct as he continued offering his speculations in contrast to facts against me. The prosecutor’s only interest was to condemn me and to win. Justice itself was not of any concern to him and he used every unjust tool to succeed and he did. Later, Art Larson, my lawyer told me his impression that, if the verdict of guilt or innocence was in the judge’s hand, he would have acquitted me. He said that the prosecutor had the same impression. He added that that could not be predicted when he suggested a trial with a judge and a jury. During that meeting, the judge told a philosophical Socratic story about another judge who on his way home after convicting someone (as guilty) asked himself whether he had made to right decision. Our judge commented that such a question was a clear proof that the other judge had made a mistake. I have to mention here that I have never accepted any excuse for errors of certain human function such as judges. If someone wants to occupy such a job, failures could not be an option. However, the reality seems to be different. As people are used brag about themselves to impress the listeners without practicing what they say in their own lives, the judge was trying to charm his colleagues in regard to his decency, honesty, and wisdom in the field of “justice” as all of them graduated from a law school, are members of the Law Society of Alberta that protects their malpractice and misconduct, and started their careers as lawyers or prosecutors. His last words to the same prosecutor were: “I am sorry for Mr. Larson”. I guess he was sorry for the embarrassment my latter caused him, especially, that many news media reporters were present. However, he was not sorry for lack of justice, sending me to jail, and destroying my entire life. What a conscience?

THE CASTLE OF CRIME, GANGS, AND

HUMILIATION

In addition to the slave blue coverall made in the USA, a pair of brand new shoes made in China that felt as if made of paper and costs a few pennies, a tooth brush that could not be used for more than three days (my use), a comb whose teeth bent and curled and stayed so after the first use, and the bedding, nothing from outside the jail was allowed to be used inside it, except, a pair of (personal) sport shoes in recognition of the paper shoes jock. However, inmates were allowed to buy some products of the worst quality possible from the jail’s canteen at prices of first class hotels. Only one set of pants was allowed for $26 and a sweatshirt for the same price although the government buys them at wholesale prices for just a few dollars apiece. The blue slave’s coverall was not warm enough, especially, during sleeping; therefore, I was forced to buy the extra allowed monopoly clothes for the astronomical prices as Britain outlawed its colonized subjects in India to extract their own salt from the see and forced them to buy it from the colonial British agents. A pair of the worst quality of shower sandals was sold for more than $7. The extra purchased gray clothes for around $70 were not allowed to replace the slave blue clothes because they were used for identification of the prisoners, their categories, and for differentiating them from guards and employees. Without those humiliating rags, everyone would have looked like a human being. The jail’s food was less than what was needed to fill an adult man and of a quality that pets would refuse to eat in most of the times. As a result, Inmates were forced to buy the available junk food sold by the prison’s canteen at incredible prices, if they could afford that. It was clear that the prisoners were a source of financing the provincial Alberta “Correctional” Centers as a part of their punishment, although, they had no incomes. Most inmates, who could not afford to buy the extra allowable cloths and food, and those were the majority, were forced to get involved in criminal adventures such as the smuggling of tobacco and illegal drugs to be able to purchase their basic needs such as toothbrushes- and paste, extra food, and cloths. The jail provided the right environment to commit crimes because the punishment of any crime, if caught, was institutional, meaning no further jail sentences. In addition, the prison did not have any law enforcement or legal structures matching the law enforcement agencies and legal system outside the “Correctional” Centers. Legally, it has been blank. As a result, the Canadian provincial Government of Alberta had been conspiring to increase the number of crimes committed inside its prisons in addition to allowing the domination of the criminals’ rules inside the Castles of Horrors and Terror and the suspension the state’s laws as it is the case in all Canadian Jails. Further, the Alberta provincial law forced convicts to work for free inside its prisons. Because they were criminals, they were expected to accept any barbaric treatment of the democratic state such as the boiling water coming from the showers and the ultra expensive prices of the phone calls provided by a monopoly company with a level of service worse than it could be described. Most the jail guards treated the prisoners as if they had lost all of their citizens’ and residents’ rights although legally they had lost only the rights abolished and defined by the law. Their behavior was not standardized according to unified rules, but, depended mostly on their own personalities, home education, culture, views, attitudes, and level of civility. Power has always been corrupting to human beings, especially; that the Communist part of Canada protects government employees so that firing them is almost impossible for reasons that would make firing them from the private sector absolutely certain. Those employees have the habit when criticized for corruption, misconduct, and bad or no performance to compare Canada with some other Third World countries or even the USA, to let the critical voices shut up. They always implicated that, in their opinion, Canada has less corruption than those inferior countries and, thus, any voice of criticism should be silenced because no improvements are needed.

Billy was my first roommate in the World of Crime and Sadism in the proud Canada. My first cell was number 9 in Unit 6 of the Lethbridge “Correctional” Center. Billy was clean, organized, and generous. He allowed me to use his stuff such as soup and shampoo during my first days of incarceration until I could buy my own needs later according to the jail’s bureaucratic rules and schedule that took time. My wife financed my jail time needs. So, the democratic punishment for a crime I had not committed was not only the loss of my income that she had to compensate for by doubling the number of hours she had to work, but also, she bore the burden of buying toothbrushes- and paste, food, etc. for me. My daughter had to grow on her own like weed because there was no one to educate her at home. What a destructive democratic justice, Honorable Justice W. Vaughn Hembroff? Anyhow, you will never suffer from it as you belong to the lower cast of the Canadian Untouchables, about whom I will talk more in the following chapters. I wonder whether all those who are addressed by “Your Honor” have any honor! Not only, people bend in front of them as in front of living Gods! The prosecutor of my trial D. A. Labrenz was addressing the “honorable” Judge W. Vaughn Hembroff with “my Lord” and “Lordship”. I, just, wonder, what language would he use addressing the real God, if had any.

Cells of that unit and all the other units were locked and unlocked at certain intervals. I needed several weeks inside different units to understand that process. The cells were locked for 25 minutes and then unlocked for 5 minutes, if the guards remembered, to enable the inmates to enter and leave their cells. During the time, during which the cells were locked, prisoners were unable to access or exit the cells. There were a few exceptions. We were made to understand that the reason for such annoying process was preventing the inmates from fighting inside the cells without the guards’ knowledge as that was the criminals’ constitutional rule to settle disputes among them and to establish the different levels of hierarchy inside each unit. The stronger, the more courageous, or extra criminal destroyed the weaker and rose to the level of a bully, if he had not enjoyed such a position from past encounters. The looser fell to a submissive rank; and that how the social power structure was determined canceling the state’s laws that criminalize violence against any person. Bullies and master criminals rule the Canadian jails using such rules without any interference from the democratic state. The outcome has been visible as scars on the faces, necks, arms, legs, and all body parts of the involved warriors and, sometimes, fatal. Another way for domination inside a Canadian jail is not as fair as the one on one fights. Gangs subdue non-gang inmates. Their members fight with other gangs’ members or have certain arrangements among themselves. Some guards reported that quitting the association with a certain gang would lead to a certain death by the gang itself or other gangs. Gangs destroy enemies without consideration of equality of numbers and settle scores inside jails as well on the streets. Another complementary criminals’ rule to the above mentioned one is the prohibition of complaining to or informing the guards about any prisoner or violation of the state’s laws. It is clear that such laws of the World of Crime are created to protect criminals and bullies inside the Canadian jails. If an inmate is suspected to have breached that code of criminal conduct, he is labeled as a rat (an informer) and suffers physical punishment that might lead to death depending on the level of the criminal professionalism present. Once a jail’s authority knows about such a suspicion, the prisoner is removed immediately and isolated for his protection. The criminals’ rules dominate inside the Canadian jails and cancel the state’s laws. The impotency and corruption of the state and its agents are responsible for that condition. I remember that all life insurance companies refused to sell me a life insurance policy, before being convicted as a criminal, for the probability that I could land in jail. That turned me uninsurable for the simple reason that my life would be threatened inside a Canadian prison. Thus, the crime of the Canadian Government was not only allowing the conviction of an innocent man, but also, threatening my life and the lives of every prisoner due to the lawless environment inside the Canadian “Correctional” Centers and pools of crime.

I could never understand the function of locking the cells in the mentioned manner to stop violence among inmates. Prisoners were never prevented from exercising that violent way of settling disputes and asserting domination of bullies because they waited until the time the cells were unlocked after the guards finished their inspection tours, once an hour, and then entered the cells for the fights. Professional convicts could have inmate observers so that they could know exactly what the guards were doing. It was much easier for prisoners to watch the guards rather than the opposite. The cells were then locked and the looser and weaker did not have an escape before the end of the 25-minute period. Victims could not report the violence to avoid being labeled as rats. With the government and its agents’ conspiracy, the state’s laws are abolished inside the Canadian jails. The only right that the sadist state and its personnel did not allow to loose is inspecting the genitals of their victims. They have violated the dignity of each and every inmate many times according to the length of his or her incarceration and never succeeded in asserting the domination of state’s laws nor stopped the crime epidemic inside the its prisons. Revenge is a criminal just conduct inside the “Correctional” Centers. Some victims wait for the right opportunity to stab an aggressor. The jail is the most suitable place to commit crimes and counter crimes, especially, violence within the lawless confinement provided by the government allowing evading legal consequences except being thrown in the hole for, most probably, a week, after confiscating all simple personal belongings. That is very easy compared with the legal procedures that would, otherwise, lead to additional long jail terms. As a result, the Canadian “Correctional” Centers are, in fact, pools and protectorates for crimes.

Antonio, in his thirties, was from El Salvador in the same unit and occupied a bed inside the double-bunk cell number 5. He was generous and let me use his phone account to call my wife to let her know that I was still alive in the world of crime and enjoying the kind treatment of the jail’s staff and the Alberta Government as I did not have a phone account of my own or I could not use the complicated phone system of the monopoly company chosen by the Canadian Government to profit from the misery of the Canadian prisoners at incredible prices. Every time I thanked Antonio for doing me a favor, he responded that he was there to serve. It is saddening to me that I would never see him again to repay my debts because I left Unit 6 after 5 days only of arriving without saying good bye to the kind man.

I was surprised when Billy, my first roommate ever in a prison, found a bottom bed for me in the double-bunk cell number 2 facing his cell number 9 on the second day after my occupation of the floor of his single bunk cell. I do not believe that his only motivation was generosity, but, his desire to return to the comfort of his single cell without me blocking the only floor space available. Having someone sleeping on the floor of any cell was annoying to every occupant of such a cell because no room was left for movement inside the room. However, annoyance had been the main goal of imprisoning all those state’s victims. My new roommate was Alma. I guess he was around 20 years old. He recognized me as he and friends had used my taxi service earlier; however, I did not remember him. A city with a population of 80,000 was small enough to allow many people to know me. Alma was nice and chose the upper bunk because he noticed that I was much older than him. The lower bunk was easier than climbing to the upper one. He was shipped from the Courthouse in shackles in the same van that transported me, too. Our incarceration started at the same time and we were confined in the same isolation cell before our registration and striptease rape started. Although the cultural and civility level inside the prison had been low, it was possible to find some civilized people like Alma. I enjoyed, for 5 days, his company and our talks about lots of things such as computers and reasons for our imprisonment.

Outside that cell, I discovered that several inmates recognized me, too, as they had used my service previously, but, I could not recognize any of them. Many others were following the story of the trial of the taxi driver who stabbed the drunks in the local newspaper for two weeks without knowing me in person. They asked me about the story and I answered them while I was still in shock. On that same day, the morning after shipping me to the jail, the news of my conviction and my condemnation to the lawyer Art Larson was in the newspaper as some prisoners told me, but, I could not read it myself because the first inmate who got it early in the morning was most probably the last one to see it, as well, except some of his friends. The remaining prisoners could not see it at all, if they did not have some connections with other important inmates. The jail never interfered in the relation among prisoners which had led to the infestation of crime and bullying. Some prisoners cut pictures (for naked women mainly) from the paper and stuck it using toothpaste on the walls of their cells. The prison’s authority could have made the paper available on a table in the common hall and prohibited taking it away by anyone. That way would have allowed every single inmate to take advantage of the availability of the local newspaper to know what was going on in the free world outside the “Correctional” Center. I had the opportunity to let one of the jail’s managers know about the mentioned above, but, the governmental impotency had prevailed and the readers’ monopoly of the newspaper continued, not only in that particular unit, but also, as a way of life inside all other units.

Dallas in the late forties of age was annoying because he could not stop talking continuously without allowing anyone else to open his mouth. He contributed to talks in which he was the only speaker. He, also, could not speak about anything else except the bible that he studied every day.

The first day feelings were depression, humiliation, emptiness, waste of precious moments of life, and powerlessness. The only beautiful thing that the Canadian Government had left available was the ability to hear my wife’s voice using the monopoly phone service. She had to double the number of hours she worked to be able to replace my income stolen, and not for the first time, by the Canadian Government to be able to fulfill our family financial obligations that became an enormous burden to her.

From the first moment of being captured inside the Castle of Horrors and Terror, the criminals started teaching me the rules of the criminal conduct inside the jail and the grave consequences of violating them such as getting stabbed. On the other hand, the state, jail authority, and their agents offered a complete silence in regard to the legal rules that they wanted the inmates to follow and how the state expected them to deal with the criminals’ code of crime. I could see such vacuum as nothing but complicity with the World of Crime and criminals to allow their domination inside the Canadian jails. Another alternative might be the common governmental impotency. The mentioned silence was actually a protection of the World of Crime and similar to the silence that Art Larson, the defense lawyer who had stolen my $20,000, had offered the jury during my trial. As a result, the prisoners had no option except being captured firmly in the grasp of crime, criminals, and their code of conduct. Any new convict who had just fallen into the pool of crime had to face two sets of contradicting laws of the proud state and the dominating criminals. Any accused rat (informer) or sex offender poses to all Canadian jails a great difficulty to protect him as the news travel inside the jails’ system and the world of crime by moving criminals from one jail to another and through phone calls from inside the jails to the outside world. The jails’ authority finds difficulty to find a place to accommodate such threatened convicts who end in isolated cells without any interaction with other human beings, which poses a psychological torture. That kind of a solution is called Protective Custody. The safety of any prisoner is the government’s responsibility. Any physical or mental harm caused by the imprisonment could result in suing the government for compensation of a large sum of money, which most probably would be granted. The criminals’ code inside all Canadian jails is the same and had been created and fiercely enforced by members of the criminal World. In reality, it replaces the state’s laws and is considered by both convicts and government agents as the master rule. Newer prisoners learn it from the older ones in absence of any governmental instructions about the state’s expectation from inmates about how to deal with such a criminal constitution. The result is that the Canadian jails are lawless states within the state and the most suitable places for committing crimes without legal consequences. This means that the punishment inside the jail for a crime that would result in a long jail sentence as a result of the submission to the Canadian legal system would be spending some time in complete isolation (in the hole) for, say, a week or more. Anyhow, it is not really a complete isolation because inmates in the segregated cells have neighbors to chat with. That penalty is equal to no consequences at all. It renders jails to be the perfect place to commit crimes and escape unpunished. The only useless and funny action that the state’s agents enjoy implementing is the inspecting the genitals of inmates and violating their dignity. The Canadian Governments, federal and provincial, are proud to fabricate the impression that their jails do in fact correct criminals by calling their prisons “Correctional Centers”. That is manipulation and deception, which has always been the most professional job governments perform. In reality, Canadian jails are schools and centers for spreading crime, its knowledge and professionalism, in addition of being the most intensive and successful recruiting ground for crime and criminals.

Crime is defined as the violation of a state’s laws. Abiding by such laws does not mean that the obedient individuals possess higher morals than the others. Some countries or states forbid, others permit, actions such as abortion, which is a murder of the life of a human being in the early stages of its creation and most probably as a result of adultery. Some countries and states allow prostitution, others forbid it. People used to agree of the immorality of such a behavior, whose legal and moral definitions vary depending on culture, religion, and country. Prostitution in countries that legally allow it does not mean that it is conceived as a moral conduct, and therefore, moral norms vary from legal standards. Principles of most, if not all, Christian churches contradict with many of the democratic secular rules in the Western Democracies that separate between the state laws and people’s culture and religion. In addition, there is the class of Untouchables, who are above the law and, practically, not accountable to it. As stated in biography books, the wife of the former Canadian famous state’s man and Prime Minister Pier Trudeau used to consume illegal drugs in the house of her husband under the protection of the federal police (RCMP) agents, although that was a violation of the state’s law. She and her husband had never been accountable like most other Canadians. The Prime Minister was the law itself and one of the most educated in the fields of law, politics, and economics. Well, the real crimes of the rulers and their helpers are actually greater than consumption of drugs secretly, because they themselves are the law and its enforcers. The other group of people who is subjected to the full force of the state’s law in contrast to the above mentioned untouchables are called criminals when they violate it, some of whom earn their living by practicing the profession of committing crimes as a way of life such as drug dealers. Arresting, prosecuting, and sentencing them for a jail term does not stop them from the continuation of violating the law after the end of the legal “correctional” penalty. They are in a continuous conflict with the state, its agencies, and agents, who play the role of the protectors of the law and society. The state succeeds, sometimes and in some cases, in stopping some criminals, but, some criminals are smarter than the state and its agents and are unstoppable. Some individuals find themselves in jails although crime is not their way of life. Crimes differ in type and severity such as murder, physical or sexual assaults, theft (armed or unarmed), traffic violations, violation of state agents’ orders, and tax evasion. Every and each one of those Canadians and residents are put by their governments in the same criminal and narrow confinements, where all of them socialize, struggle, interact, and live together and learn from, and teach each other in a very crowded space, where in most cases three convicts share a very small cell, one of whom sleeps on the floor. In addition to the captivity in the very jam-packed space that puts a mental and physical stress on every one of them causing fights and disputes, there is no differentiation among the different kinds of crimes or its severity. The very specialized criminal knowledge spreads among all those residents and for free, where the professional criminals find future partners and apprentices. It is the optimum environment to recruit future criminals in the absence of any educational and legal instructions from the state about how the state expects all those people to respond to the criminal environment they have been forced to endure without, practically, any differentiation of crimes and severity nor protection of the weakest and most vulnerable. Guards play the most destructive role as sadist man keepers with a very few exceptions. They are the state’s tools that deal directly with the prisoners. Since the state does not exist in reality as a body of itself that can be seen, heard, or touched, those guards were in fact the state itself in blood and flesh. Many of them were beasts occupying the bodies of human beings. They have been instruments of humiliating the convicts, who were still sons of Canada and victims of the crimes committed against them by the mother land. Some of them were dumped on the streets by their parents at very early ages of life and were street educated. Others received destructive education that led to the persons who they are. Even the state itself committed crimes buy kidnapping children from their native parents and dumped them into abuse institutions. Now, the Government is compensating them with money that would never compensate for parents’ education. Guards in Canadian jails are the tools for punishment and humiliation though criminals, themselves, are victims of the mother society that is beyond accountability. Convicts hate guards, who can never play a corrective role unless they are liked and respected, which is not the case. Guards are reasons for more crimes and lack of reformation. The result is a complete correctional vacuum facing all convicts that force most , if not all, of them be sucked into the world of crime, whose members show more compassion, respect, loyalty, and honesty than the mother society. The probability is very high that the imprisonment of a Canadian, who is not a criminal by nature, would produce a real criminal.

THE BULLY AND THE STATE’S SUBMISSION

The first five days of the jail’s hospitality to me in Unit 6 were not enough for me to recognize its gangs and their members until one of them tried to affirm his domination as the local gang leader or the bully of the area. He was around 20 years old from the native Cree Nation from the North of the Province of Alberta around its Capital Edmonton. The Cree and the local Blood Nations were hostile and fought for territory, war spoils, and influence until the Europeans invaded and colonized their lands. They belong in present time to the most underprivileged groups of the new Canadian nation.

At around 8:00 a.m. of the sixth day of my punishment in the mentioned unit, the young Cree man stood outside Alma’s and my locked cell number 2 looking at us through the glass window of the steel door reprimanding Alma for using the water as he was washing his hands with water and soap after using the toilet, a habit that is not very common in prisons. He wanted to prevent everybody from using the water and flushing the toilet till noon of every day not to disturb the sleeping convicts, he claimed. Just a reason to assert his domination. Alma tried to explain his need to wash his hands after using the toilet. The bully did not back up from his attempt to enforce his control above us. I was sleeping, then, I turned looking at and telling him to get lost. He did not and stayed outside the door swearing. I started swearing him loudly. He did not move. I pushed the intercom button to talk to the guard about that annoyance. No doubt, he was following the event silently from his office that was designed to see everything inside the unit. His interference could have saved a lot of hassle to come. But, despite his large body, he had been a coward. The cell’s door was unlocked. I was told later that the Cree bully thought for the first moment that I was going after him, but, I went to the guard in his office complaining about that irritating convict who was threatening us, especially, that I did not want to get involved in any physical fights after stabbing the drunks although it was for self-defense. The big guard stood smiling without saying anything at all. The bully was around denying that he was threatening us. He was allowed outside because he was a unit cleaner and was participating in the cleaning process after the miserable breakfast. I was surprised from the guard’s reaction. He sent me back to my cell and locked its door. I guess he was consulting with his superiors. Within a few minutes, he called on the intercom ordering me to collect my possessions and to return to the office again. He accompanied me to the administration to sign a piece of paper and then to another Unit number 5 to reside there. He explained that members of that prisoner’s gang would hurt me because of my complaint against him. At that moment, I realized that I had not comprehended the code of criminals’ conduct completely and precisely and that I had just violated it. But at the same time, it was the jail’s complicity to submit to the criminals’ constitution and letting them have the upper hand and dominating the Castle of Horrors. That action was a clear submission to the code of the criminals’ world. The government was implicating by removing me to abide by the convicts’ rules. The only other alternative to my (legal) behavior would have been an (illegal) hidden violent and bloody fight inside a locked cell to settle the conflict according to the laws of convicts because I do not belong to the submissive sort of human beings. The government agents were implicating to me that the code of the Criminal World was the one to follow. However, the world of criminals was less brutal and cruel than the Canadian Government as no one has ever stained me to be a rat (an informer) understanding my position as a newcomer to the world of crime and its rules. I had the opportunity to experience that guard for a long period of time as he had moved later to my new Unit 5. His name is Slavosky and means that he belongs to the nation of Slavs. He was mean, rude, disliked from all inmates, and told me once proudly that he was making tons of money from his job. He was a caseworker who never did anything to the inmates he supervised, as they reported. Not only prisoners did not like him, but, some of his co-workers expressed dislike to his ruddiness and nastiness. Some waited for him to leave the unit to treat the inmates better. But, Slavosky was not the worst, but, his soul was mean and cruel.

LIFE IN THE CASTLE OF HORRORS AND TERROR

From the first day of my incarceration, I wondered the amount of laughter and enjoyment of the prison’s life of most convicts. Although, the jail’s life was the ugliest and most humiliating experience in my life, it seemed to me that most of the others had enjoyed it. Many alcohol and drug addicted homeless people commit crimes intentionally to be sentenced and enter the jail during the Canadian extremely cold winter months to find heated shelter, food, medical care, medication, and even sport facilities. It seems that the striptease rape does not cause them embarrassment or humiliation as it had been for me. Or maybe, the governmental humiliation of the sadist striptease rape is less painful than hunger, begging, and the brutality of the Canadian winter without shelter. People are different and their priorities vary, too.

The convicts’ extreme noise–a mix of talking, shouting, laughing for no reason–from the time they woke up until the obligatory bedtime at 10:30 p.m. was the second brutal punishment after the vicious state and agents’ useless striptease rape. I have to mention, also, that the low level of civility and culture was a punishment for itself. The most pronounced word had been “fuck” in all imaginable combinations. Guards, I mean the civil servants, the state representatives, or in fact the state itself, were not shy from using the same savage language like their victims. The general environment was superficial and primitive. The inmates were involved in a very primitive social life that allowed them enduring the state’s punishment. They treated their companions as the most important human beings they had in life, and probably, that was true under the total retributive isolation imposed upon them. Yet, they did not shed a single tear nor miss any of their dearest buddies when they suddenly disappeared as a result of release, sudden transfer to another jail, or for another reason. Sometimes, the departure of one of the closest friends was unnoticed. They found instant replacement and continued the vital timeserving social life. The opportunistic need for an elusive social life was very simple and clear just to satisfy a vital human need. Acquaintances themselves had not value for themselves, but, for the function they performed to their fellow inmates. In most cases, they were instantly and shamelessly replaceable. The prison contained 5 large identical units with an average capacity of 70 inmates at any given time for each unit. That capacity increased close to 100 prisoners during my last sentence weeks due to reconstruction. The government added an extra bunk to every single cell not for the comfort of the inmates, but, to increase the total capacity by adding a third prisoner to every double bunk cell as the Province “Correctional” Centers are jammed with prisons. That empty noise (of my fellow convicts) reminded me with a proverb: If talk is worth silver, then, the value of silence is gold. Life in prison made me disagree with that wise saying; I thought that the value of chitchat was rust in most cases. The prisoners spoke continuously from the beginning until the end of their day, but, they said almost nothing. That was a torture for me and I did not participate in such a waste of time. My future friend, Johnny, laughed always at my concern in regard to the value of the moments of my life and how I used them.

For some reason, I was not forced to work for free inside the jail as the provincial law or rules (God knows) imposed penalties for refusing to conform such as the incarceration in the hole for, say, a week. Another way of punishment was being locked up inside the own cell while the others were allowed outside. The hole was one of the cells inside Unit 2 with the maximum level of security. The level of security had nothing to do with the level of threat that an inmate posed, but, the level of harassment the prison wanted to cause the punished person. Anyhow the “Correctional” Law gives the “Correctional” authorities the right to incarcerate prisoners for 23 hours a day without a reason. Any better conditions are courtesy and kindness of the government employees, which are called privileges. A punishment in the hole resulted, as my fellow criminals told me, in the confiscation of their very simple possessions even the toothbrush- and paste, having a shower after permission every second day, removal of any so called privileges such as going to the jail’s gym or library, and the prevention form the involvement in any activity in addition to the complete segregation from any social interaction. That was emptying the convict’s life as a way of legal democratic torture. The law, also, gave the jails’ authorities the ability to be very mean by having the power to incarcerate prisoners in the mentioned hole or under complete isolation without the so called privileges, practically, for his entire jail sentence. The trick is releasing him for a few hours every 14 days. The hole is a cell that contained a bed, may be two after the reconstruction during the last weeks of my sentence, a small metal sink, a metal toilet, a plastic mirror, and a nontransparent window like every other cell in the entire jail, with very seldom exceptions. It lacked the table attached to the wall, the plastic seat, and shelves. Most convicts were put under the medium level of security in the main jail’s units number 4 to 8. The medium security inmates were left free in the common area most of the day, but, locked up inside their assigned cells from 10:30 p.m. to breakfast time shortly after 7:00 a.m., before and after the daily three miserable meals, and during changing shifts between 2:30 and 3:00 p.m. Some inmates were forced to work in the kitchen for free preparing the meager food for more than 300 prisoners under the management of July, who was one of the most disliked employees. Her only qualification besides being very cheap was being the adapted daughter of one of the jail’s managers. It had been very common that the jail employed members of the same family such as husband, wife, and daughter at the same time. That was easy, especially, that the minimum qualification to be hired as a civil servant and a man keeper had been a high school diploma. That is a very moderate qualification for a wage that is around $30/hour. In addition, losing a job with the government is almost impossible even if he or she performed nothing. This is the communist part of Canada, although, it claims to be a free market. Some employees went to the jail to read the newspaper and make personal phone calls for hours. That was OK with the government. I think that that performance can be noticed in many government offices and occurs in the developed and underdeveloped worlds, as well. Governments’ corruption is a universal fact of life, but, they always keep bragging about their incredible achievements. Taxpayers finance that by the force of law or they would end like me with all those convicts. The Government spends their money as it pleases, most of it on corrupt spending and thefts. Do not forget the profitable wars to some untouchable sectors of the democratic world. July was not only disliked from every prisoner, but also, a subject of their jokes because she claimed to be Swedish because her adopting parents were from that nation or their ancestors. She was and her appearance indicated that. The inmates did not like her. When any inmate felt or was sick and could not work, he was punished by being locked up inside his cell or sent to the hole that included the confiscation of his belongings. There were lots of other prisoners who could replace that prisoner, but, the jail wanted to show its victims who the boss was. In contrast, guards could report sick as they pleased without a proof. In addition to the kitchen, the medium security offenders cleaned the jail’s floors and washed the clothes and bedding of their fellow prisoners.

For some reason, the jail had never forced me to work during my entire jail sentence (303 days). I used my time during the first six months reading old books from jail’s library in fields that interested no one else such as history, economy, politics, and business. Most of those books were from the sixties and seventies of the last century.

Most inmates were incarcerated in five main units, four of which were medium security, and one was maximum security for remand prisoners. However, the remand unit was run in the same way as the medium security units. This means that the inmates were not locked up for 23 hours a day and had the same privileges like the medium security units. Unit One was minimum security and had a maximum capacity of 30 convicts who were selected from the all other medium security units after one half or one third of their entire sentence depending on the type of crime they were imprisoned for. Crimes were categorized in three levels. I was class three, the most dangerous. Thieves, I believe, are labeled category one, the least threatening. A clean or quasi clean record was a condition to qualify for the minimum security level, but, the jail could not accommodate all qualifiers who were around 70 convicts to occupy the small minimum security unit. A clean record meant having been neither caught smuggling nor consuming prohibited items such as tobacco and weed, nor assaulted someone. Many were smart enough not to be apprehended doing anything illegal, but, they could have been professional criminals who had practiced all sorts of crimes inside the jail. Unit One inmates were, therefore, a main source of smuggling of all kinds of prohibited materials into the prison because they were allowed to work outside the jail for free, too. So, they were not innocent although having qualified for the minimum security unit. Unit Two was the one with the maximum security level whose cells were used mainly for punishment of “bad behavior”. That Unit was the home of the famous hole cells. Two units were reserved for remand prisoners who waited for their trials. Later, only one unit was used for that purpose. They were there because they did not have money to pay for their bail, or the court had refused to release them on bail. Those who were escaping homelessness and poverty during the winter months did not have money nor wanted to be released at all; they were already at home.

Inside the main prison’s units (4 to 8), two inmates occupied each cell. One slept on the floor in the single bunk cells. Most the prisoners were shipped from other cities inside the Province of Alberta such as Calgary and Edmonton whose jails were over crowded with inmates. That Province spent $62,000 annually on every prisoner while the Federal Government spent over $100,000 for the same purpose. More dangerous convicts with sentences of over two years are incarcerated inside the Federal jails. Provincial jails host criminals with less threatening offenses sentenced for terms less than two years. Condition inside the Federal jails are much better than those of the Province of Alberta because of the more money spent on the inmates. For example, prisoners are paid for their work, food quantities and quality are much better, and the jails are not as crowded as the Provincial jails, as inmates, who spent time in the Federal prisons, reported.

When a prisoner needed to use the toilet, he waited for his roommate to leave the cell during the regular hours of unlocking the cells. But, if he could not wait, especially, during the night hours, he had no choice but to use the toilet in the presence of his roommate. That was uncomfortable for both persons. Some had no problem using the toilet in the presence of others. In Edmonton and Calgary there are high security jails only for remand prisoners. They were locked up for 23 hours according to the law. Three occupied every double bunk cell, one of whom sleeps on the floor. They had to use the toilet in the presence of each other. Many of them had to be transported to the Lethbridge “Correctional” Center and reported the above mentioned conditions. During my 303 days sentence many convicts appeared and then disappeared repeatedly up to five times. They could not keep the conditions for their release such as abstaining from alcohol, drugs, or staying at home at certain times of the day.

Wes Siemens and John van Sluys had suffered more than the others because both were diabetic. Van Sluys came very close to death. Others and I tried to observe them as their behavior changed when the level of their blood sugar decreased under the normal level. When that happened we hurried to give them any sweets to increase their blood sugar level to avoid falling in a coma that could lead to death if glucose would not be injected into the blood stream immediately. Most, if not all, diabetics know including Wes and John the right insulin type and the exact amount needed to be injected at the right times in combination with the different kinds, amounts, and carbohydrates content of food for each level of energy expected to be exerted for work or exercise to maintain their blood glucose level normal. Although that process is complicated, it is not a rocket science. Diabetics are the most qualified and experienced to do the mentioned job as they feel the effects of the medication and food qualities and quantities on their health condition according to their experience as every human body is different.

The jail’s nurses, who ran the prison’s Health Care Unit, were used to overstep their qualifications and tried to diagnose illnesses, prescribe medications, preventing inmates from seeing the jail’s doctor at their discretion. That condition caused Wes and John to lose control over the quality and quantity of the insulin injections they were receiving. The jail’s very ignorant management, especially in regard to feeding sick people such Wes and John, and the nurses imposed upon them food and medication they saw fit. That was a catastrophe. John van Sluys suffered from coma three times within two weeks before his release. His roommate, Craig, in cell number 18 saved his life several times by discovering his condition, when he fell in coma, and reporting it immediately. The reason had always been receiving more insulin (and probably the wrong type) than the amount of carbohydrates content in his meals. In other words, he suffered from hunger that his body could not adjust to like other non-diabetic inmates. John knew very well that while he was receiving his meals and protested to the ignorant guards and kitchen staff. They ignored him as they thought he deserved to be neglected as a criminal. They, also, did not know what he was talking about. Power is very corrupting. The uniform of the jail’s guards made them think that they knew better than the slaves they were keeping like animals. Even ill convicts’ concerns were not worth taking seriously in the civilized Canadian “Correctional” Center. The jail’s way to keep expenses within the budget was cutting expenses of food and health care. Of course, the millions spent on the man keepers’ salaries and benefits were not touched even if some did go to read the newspapers, chat with co-workers, and enjoy personal phone calls for hours. That situation was a reflection of the level of the stupidity of the management because the number of sick people like Wes Siemens and John van Sluys was very limited. Giving them extra food would have not changed the jail’s expenses significantly nor risked killing them and suffering the consequences. Convicts, who worked in the kitchen, reported throwing fresh food on a daily base instead of feeding the inmates or only the sick ones. Worse, some of the guards ate the prisoners’ meals as they pleased for free and without any hassle in contrast to sick inmates who begged for their lives. Those few wasted meals given to very well paid civil servants were enough to satisfy the needs of the sick ones. A few days before the release of van Sluys and after two blackouts within two weeks, I spoke to tow nice guards suggesting to advice the jail’s management to release him (one or two days) early, which was legally possible, to avoid killing him and being responsible. Of course, who was a slave like me to suggest something to the jail’s genius management? He stayed and fell in a third coma in the last night before his release. The nurses could not revive him. He had to be transported to the hospital to save his life to be released within a few hours. That experience was the government at its utmost stupidity. I have to remind you that the kitchen manager was July, the adapted daughter of one of the prison’s managers. That was her only qualification for such an important job. At the end of my sentence, she quitted her job to open her catering business. Here experience in the field of preparing slaves’ food that pets would refuse to eat gave her the feeling that she can make money from such a valuable experience. God help her free customers.

THE SECOND STRIPTEASE RAPE

The jail allowed visits to convicts for an hour in the afternoon of Saturdays and Sundays of each weekend. My wife came to visit me on the tenth day of my sentence and saw me in the blue slaves’ cloth. For my surprise, I had to submit to another striptease rape after my wife had left. There were three guards in the blue uniforms who enjoyed my erotic performance. I had to remove my cloths piece by piece, then, rotate my genitals in front of them, and at last turn around and bend to the front to let them enjoy watching the center of my bum. After they had been satisfied, I was allowed to dress again in all democratic dignity. I was naïve to think that the striptease rape was just once at the time of entering the jail and would not be repeated again. I discovered that that sex show was going to be repeated very often for different reasons, one of which was after face to face visits. Thus, the humiliating experience did not want to stop. I phoned my wife and asked her not to come anymore because of the democratic striptease rape as I did not plan continuing to offer the Canadian Government and its agents my erotic services anymore. My daily phone calls with my wife were sufficient although very expensive. I started the habit of cursing the Canadian Government and its agents because I could not revenge for my humiliation on my own, so I left the revenge to the Almighty.

THE FIRST REBELLION AGAINST THE SADIST

CANADIAN GOVERNMENT

A 13-DAY HUNGER STRIKE

Around 5:15 p.m. in the evening of the 26th day of my sentence, I was writing my diaries after the usual the meager supper. Suddenly, the cell’s door was opened and a guard in the blue uniform entered and ordered my native Cree roommate and me to leave the room. I did not understand the reason, nevertheless, I left, went to the common hall, and sat on a plastic seat in the middle of the entire unit watching what was going on. There were around 20 guards in the khaki and blue uniforms. Security guards wore the blue ones while caseworkers dressed in the khaki outfits. Caseworkers were a mix of social workers and security guards. In theory, they did some bureaucratic works for and on behalf of the convicts, only, if they wanted. Some did such a job and others did nothing based on the attitude that prisoners had not deserved such a kind of support. Each guard had his or her own different personal attitude toward the prisoners. Their behavior depended on their sentiments, not, on standard Government norms and unified training such in the Federal jails. Most of them were beasts in the bodies of human beings, a very few showed civility and treated the inmates with respect and dignity. Caseworkers, who performed their jobs, collected information in regard to prisoners needs such as further education, housing, employment, and government social services. One of their important jobs was applying for early release programs administered by the “Correctional” System and the jail. Very few had kind souls and tried to help the inmates. Many others’ souls were evil and constituted barriers between the convicts and the outside World and their needs. It was completely clear that those employees’ behavior, attitudes, and actions were defined by their own personal philosophies, not, by a government standardized policy and a particular training. Very few guards treated the prisoners with respect and those were more secure than the monsters in human bodies who were at risk of the convicts’ violent retaliation as it had happened before. Guards reported stories of violence against other guards depicting the offenders as criminals ignoring the savageness of their treatment. You cannot be a human beast and expect to be safe. Many guards did not have more than a high school diploma that was not sufficient for such a dangerous and complex function. Anyhow, those could not advance within the hierarchy inside the jail and the entire government terror system. They took orders from others with a better education and positions in the age of their own children or grandchildren. Others with higher education refused promotions and responsibilities as they did not want to carry more responsibilities and invest more time at work. It was for them just a job for the paycheck, no more.

While I was sitting in the common area, I started observing what I did not like to see. Inmates’ simple properties such as cloths, bedding items, towels, and books from the jail’s library were flying in the air and then landing on the floor in front of the cells and in the corridors. That stuff was all and the most precious belongings for the prisoners. The guards in both uniforms were wearing blue disposable gloves to protect them from dirt and infection as they touched the convicts’ personal belongings, garbage and garbage bins, toilets, beds, bedding, and cloths. However, they were spreading, at the same time, dirt and infections that they did not want to contract among all convicts who were treated exactly like dirty animals. I described that later to one of the jail’s managers as a savage uncivilized behavior. He called it unprofessional unit search as if the jail’s authority was not responsible of the guards’ conduct. I started getting angry from what I was seeing. The guards started calling inmates one after another to their respective cells. At that time, I did not understand what was happening there. I thought that they had found illegal smuggled items such as drugs inside the cells; therefore, they called the prisoners. Suddenly they called the occupants of cell number 3. Those were my roommate and me. He went first and then it was my turn. I walked above and between the inmates’ simple possessions spread on the floor. That increased my anger until I arrived at my cell. It was in a complete chaos and disorganization after it was clean and tidy. My efforts to keep it that way were double because the roommate was very dirty, messy, and to some extent of mentally retarded. There were two guards in the khaki uniform. One of them was Goldie. Later, I learned that he was one of four supervisors of the eight jail’s units. He was one of the most disliked guards by all prisoners and some of the respectful guards. He attempted to change that unsuccessfully. Every time he tried to be funny with the prisoners, they hated him more. He noticed that and stopped his efforts to be funny. He, also, hated me sending complaints to the jail’s director and warned me from the consequences. I really did not care. There were no consequences more than enjoying the humiliation of being in jail. I knew that he was disliked and disrespected by at least some of his superiors like the one I spoke to about him who criticized his behavior. He wondered once in an interview with me how could I complain about what I called his violation the Canadian Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms while I was a convict who lost (all) his rights as a criminal. His boss disagreed with him about that in a future discussion that convicts lost only the rights abolished by the law and not all rights. Goldie wondered how I dared complaining about him while he was paying for my enslavement from his taxes. He just forgot that his contributions to me enslavement expenses were very limited to the period of my incarceration of ten months while I had been contributing to his salary for his entire life, especially, that I made my income from the free economy of production of goods and services. Goldie liked to compare Canada with Mexico where he stated to have a vacation home. The difference did not allow any criticism, in his opinion, to Canadian Government’s employees and Canadian Government’s corruption. Later, Goldie knew my religion’s requirements more than me, too, as he said. He enjoyed playing computer games while replacing other guards on breaks, but, that was legal. What a wonderful job, pays you very well for enjoying practicing your sadism, and also playing computer games at the expense of taxpayers! Wearing uniforms, being civil servants, and man keepers made the guards think they knew much more than the slaves they kept. Power has always been corrupting. The other guard worked in the sixth unit where I was kept for five days. He ordered me to take my cloth off. After hesitation, I started undressing piece by piece in front of the two vultures. Later, I learned that that guards barbaric invasion of the unit was a routine surprise unit search, after which the guards conduct what is called a “strip search” to find hidden illegal items such as drugs and weapons between the cloths and the naked prisoners’ bodies. According to my 303-day experience, they have never found anything, although, most inmates were stuffed with drugs inside their rectums. In contrast, some of the jail’s employees reported that they found, sometimes, what they were searching for. I have never experienced such a success, nor heard about. In theory, only very stupid or retarded prisoners were caught. Some did not care and took stupid risks, especially, that punishment inside the jail did not result in any considerable annoyance such as increasing the jail’s sentence time. But, remand prisoners who were waiting for their trials without being convicted with any crime, meaning that they were innocent until a trial would prove the opposite, were, also, subjected to the striptease humiliation. The units’ searches and striptease rapes were repeated once a month at least. Sometimes, they were conducted more than that in an attempt to surprise the inmates, but, I have never experience of heard of a single success. Sadist government employees insisted on the opposite. The failure to uncover illegal smuggled items was not due to their absence, but, to the professional preparation of the convicts and the limitations of the means available to catch them. Here, it is very important to mention that the jail’s authority new for fact that 75% of the jail’s population were consuming drugs that could be detected by taking, legally, urine samples for chemical analyses. The jail’s management had never conducted the mass tests because it could not afford any response. The only actions available would be punishment by segregation inside the hole for a period up to 7 days in most cases. But, there were no enough disciplinary hole cells inside the entire jail for three-quarter of its population. Both drug smugglers and consumers had to hide their illegal possessions inside their rectums where no government employee could reach as the law did not allow touching the naked inmates during the strip searches. Only, visual pleasures were legal.

I continued taking my cloth off until I reached my lower underwear, then, I stopped. He ordered me to continue; I refused. Goldie asked me why. I said that my religion did not allow me to be nude in front of people. He said that I must have been strip searched at the time I was admitted into the jail. I answered yes, but, my compliance was a mistake that I did not intend to repeat. He ordered the other guard to take me to the jail’s administration. They put me inside one of the large isolation cells with the big windows in front of the administration office. After a while, the same unit’s kitchen workers were added to me inside the same cell. They wore the same slaves’ cloths, but, white with the same black strip around the waist and a black pocket at the left front of the chest area. The purpose of the different color of that coverall was to identify the function of those convicts. They were around ten and in the best mood, laughing, joking, and very noisy. They knew they were about to provide the government agents with the sexual performance of the striptease search. However, that did not seem to cause them the least of worry. In contrast to their cheerful mood, I was angry, depressed, ready for a fight with the sadist government beasts, as I considered them. Fellow inmates started asking me why I was there. I did not know and told them that I was waiting for a democratic torture session, as I thought. After the guards finished enjoying inspecting the genitals of my fellow criminals in the white slaves’ uniforms, they sent them back to Unit 5 where all of us belonged. The administration manager with three strips on each shoulder in his late thirties called me to ask again why I refused the strip search. I repeated my answer. He responded that that procedure had to be applied to every inmate without exceptions. I did not change my position of refusal. He sent me back to the same isolation cell. Later, three guards in the blue uniforms arrived. I thought that was the official terror team. They accompanied me to cell number 13 (famous for some, not because its number, but, its function) inside the Health Care Unit. It was assigned to criminals who were suspected of hiding prohibited items (drugs) inside their bodies. It was facing the administration office. I did not know anything about that cell at that time and it was the first time I saw it inside the prison that looked to me like a large labyrinth that I did not know where it started and where it ended. Before the guards team left, their boss (Lane) repeated the same question: why I refused the strip search? I repeated my answer. He said that the jail contained many members of the same religion and no one had ever protested against that procedure. That was not the first time an ignorant guard tried to convince me that what I knew about my religion was wrong and he knew better and that my religion’s principles were wrong and the Canadian Governments’ sadist rules were right. They thought that wearing the official uniforms made them know more than what they really knew and more than the slaves they were terrorizing. I tried to respond using a Christian example in an attempt to explain my position, but, I was naïve, because mercenaries are not willing to reason and acknowledge that their paymaster might be wrong. May example was that most people in the modern time, especially, in the secular democratic World do not follow the Ten Commands of the Bible, but, that does not mean from a Christian point of view that the Bible commandments are wrong and people who violate them are right. I have never succeeded in convincing anyone. No one was willing to defy the paymaster in opinion. Some recognized only in private that the striptease rape was in fact useless. Later, I asked Christian convicts about their perception of the striptease performance required by the government and its agents. All have agreed that it had been humiliating, futile, and a violation of basic human rights. The master guard, Lane, said that I must have submitted to that procedure when I was admitted to the jail. I repeated my earlier answer. He said that they were leaving me alone in the cell to reconsider my position and, then, left.

I thought that that cell was the famous hole that was used for punishment. It was not, but, almost the same. It contained a bed with a khaki naked thin mattress like all other mattresses of the jail, a small metal sink and a metal toilet without water, a plastic mirror and a nontransparent window like almost every other cell. All the jail’s cells had a small ceramic sink with two buttons. Warm or cold water could not run without pushing one of those buttons. Another button in the wall was for flushing the toilet. Those buttons were not functioning in my new home, cell number 13 inside the Health Care Unit, which was not the hole that was every cell inside the maximum security Unit 2. The only difference between my new home and the hole cells was that the latter had some dropping water when the buttons were pushed and the toilet could be flushed. Using water that way was not easy because one hand was busy and struggling pushing one of the two buttons and only the other free hand could in fact use the dripping water. A proverb says that one hand cannot clap. The same proverb, I think, would apply to using water inside the mentioned jail. I tried to guess what the reason for such a system was. I failed to find anyone except torturing the convicts. That same system was the same inside the regular cells, too. The only difference was that water inside the regular cells was, somehow, running and inside the hole cells was dripping. The idea of saving expenses or showing respect for the environment by avoiding wasting water and the energy used to clean and transport it, drain it back into sewage system, and cleaning the dirty water again before dumping it into the river had to be excluded. A very strong light was on in each of the jail’s cells during the day hours that was certainly a huge waste of energy. Inmates did not have the option to turn it on or off. Tons (not in weight) of Styrofoam that is harmful to the environment was thrown with the garbage every day after using it as containers for the prisoners’ daily meals. Each one of them received several Styrofoam containers each meal. That material is not biologically degradable and stays in nature polluting the environment for eternity. Canada has always been trailing the industrialized countries in matters of environment protection, which has never been on the top of the priority list of any of the Canadian Governments. Canada releases the most Carbon Dioxide per capita among all developed nations.

Cell number 13 inside the Health Care Unit was designated for prisoners suspected of hiding prohibited items such as drugs inside their bodies. That was in theory only because three-quarters of the jails inmates–according to a high ranking employee–consumed drugs and hid them inside the only undetectable place far from reach of the government and its agents at times of search and the striptease rapes inside their rectums. The jail could not put over 200 inmates in that single cell to uncover what was in their bellies. The water supply was cut to prevent the suspected prisoner from flushing his excrement with the smuggled stuff, in case there was any. The guards, in that case, would find their suspected targets and charge the accused with violating the jail’s rules, or whatever. That scenario had never happened during my 303 days of incarceration for the very simple reason that it was a fact that the majority of the inmates were consuming drugs and that was beyond the government ability to deal with in terms of the internal punishment capacity. Remember what I said earlier about the Canadian jails as the perfect places to commit crimes without any significant punishment. The proof of such a hypothesis was the non-application of the invincible method of urine sampling and testing for drugs. What would the jail do with three-quarters of its population after establishing their violations? The urine sampling and testing were implemented rarely against targeted convicts. The only reason I can think of singling someone out was to harass him. I am lucky that I had never been subjected to that practice because the guards had to watch you peeing, as I was told. The number of cells inside the maximum security unit was far less than needed for punishing the majority of the jail’s inmates who, anyhow, would not stop consuming and selling drugs for being caught and insignificantly punished. The sadist striptease rape was completely useless in regard to apprehending any smuggled items. The only reason could not be anything but the sadism of the state and its agents. I asked a professional drug dealer and smuggler what he would do if he was incarcerated in cell number 13 inside the Health Care Unit. He said that he would swallow his investment again when it is exposed with his excrement. I had given some thoughts about his honest answer and came to the conclusion that he would not even need to do such a gross thing. All what he needed to do would be reinserting his capital into his rectum again, which surely would be less awkward than eating his own excrement. In reality that cell was not used for that theoretical purpose. Governments and its agents take the assumption of their intelligence for granted. How can a government and its agents, especially of a developed country, be stupid? Instead of violating the Canadian Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms and degrading Canadian citizens and residents who are supposed to be reformed, the application of modern technologies such as the Magnetic Resonance Imaging or any other techniques would achieve the so called “Correctional System” goals without humiliating members of the Canadian society. Humiliation and degradation would never contribute to reforming any human being, but, the opposite is true. The mentioned above still would not contribute to any reform of the criminals of the society without change of attitudes and philosophy. Anyhow, modern technology would be in any case fraud proof. Some genius government agents claim that such equipment would be expensive. Reduction of some government corruption would definitely provide the needed resources. To be honest, reduction of human corruption is almost impossible! Avoiding invading other nations would, also, save considerable sums of money to be spent locally. But, how can Canada defy the American imperialist desires of World domination just for some convict’s opinion like myself? Do not forget that Canada was established by invading the aboriginal inhabitants of that part of North America. So, invading other nations for some invented reasons is not strange for the Canadian way of doing business. Invading other nations at costs of hundreds of billions of dollars does not serve the interests of the common Canadian. Wars are important to the Untouchables who hire governments that spend most of their energies serving the interests of their masters and their own personal benefits. Those people do not land in jails. Where do you fit within that game, if you do not belong to the Untouchables and their servants? You are one of the democratic fools!

A professional drug dealer and smuggler told me that a human being can hide up to a kilogram of certain kinds of drugs inside his body. It is wrapped carefully in plastic foils such as the ones used to wrap food in form of small cylinders like sausage. The drug has to be insulated completely. The smuggler swallows half a kilogram of them and inserts another half kilogram inside his rectum without leaving any traces. Drug dealers and consumers were more than happy to perform the striptease shows in front of the government agents because they knew how useless it was. That co-operation would not result in landing in the cell number 13 inside the Health Care Unit that had, also, been useless due to the overwhelming numbers of the drug users in addition to the availability of the urine sampling and testing that was not used except rarely.

An important question is: why do drug dealers risk smuggling drugs into jails? The price of drugs inside jails is five folds its price on the street. A gram of weed sells for $50 inside the prison compared with $10 outside it. The price of a morphine pill inside a jail is $100 in contrast to $20 on the street. The second reason is the lack of significant punishment inside the Canadian jails in contrast to the severe jail terms for the same crimes when committed outside the “Correctional Centers”. The consequences of committing crimes inside Canadian jails are negligent. Therefore, being in a jail is the perfect place to commit all sorts of crimes including murders. Violence is common inside the Canadian jails resulting in permanent scars and deaths in addition to the prisons’ saturation with drugs. If criminals are captured (rarely), the internal penalty would be their incarceration inside the hole for a few days up to a few weeks. The state’s laws are not implemented. Prisons’ staffs do not have expertise in investigating and prosecuting crimes, nor do they have the will and attitude. The perfect environment to commit crimes is offered to criminals inside the Canadian Jails. If such crimes are committed outside the prisons, criminals face proficient law enforcement authorities, prosecution, trials, and long jail terms. Jails’ employees have explained the reasons for such a lawless environment by the difficulty to prove the crimes because the victims do not provide information about the offenders fearing for retributions. This shows the impotence of the entire so called “Correctional System” in addition to the sterility of its agents who do not have expertise in running lawful environments that are falsely called Correctional Centers. They conspire to preserve such lawless climate by not allowing professional law enforcement professionals such as the local and federal police to investigate crimes inside the jails and then leaving the state’s prosecution system deal with the suspected criminals and trying them. During the 303 days of my imprisonment, I have not experience a single case of police investigating any crime such as stabbing and smuggling of drugs inside the entire jail that was infested with drugs, gangs, and violence. The jail guard’s expertise was far away from the ability to investigate and capture crimes, but, their superior proficiency was in the field of violating human rights and dignity. It is a state’s plot and impotency to preserve the described jail conditions.

When I was imprisoned for the first time inside cell number 13, I did not know all the mentioned above and wondered the lack of running or dripping water. I thought I was going to spend the night inside that cell and was cold because I was wearing only a T-shirt. The level of adrenaline in my blood was high certainly, so I walked in a circle between the bed, toilet, sink, the steel door, and the nontransparent window for approximately half an hour as I could not sleep with such a high level of adrenaline. After I thought I was tired enough, I lied on the naked mattress and tried to hide my feet inside my pants and my head and arms inside the T-shirt to keep warm and escape the cell’s light that was turned on for 24 hours a day to allow the guards to count the prisoners regularly like counting the numbers of cattle, sheep, or pig heads.

After several hours, a large man in his late fifties with the most unpleasant face in the entire jail appeared in the dark blue uniform. There were three maple leaves (stars) on his shoulders that meant he was a Deputy Director (for) Operation (DDO), the man who ran the entire jail during that afternoon/evening shift. He asked whether I had reconsidered my position. I said that I did not change my mind. He said that I was going to be charged of violating the jail’s rules and face a court in the next morning, and asked whether I understood the consequences. I responded yes, although, I had no clue what was waiting for me. Anyhow, I had, really, nothing to lose. I had lost everything I could lose. I told him that I was going to start a hunger strike as a protest. He responded that that was not the first time he heard something like that. It was clear that he did not take me seriously and left. Later, other managers at a lower level than that man with three strips on their shoulders said that, from their past experience with other offenders, my hunger strike would not last more than three days.

That night’s events had not ended with the mentioned visit of the jail’s manager. Another young guard appeared and took me to my cell number 3 in the fifth unit to collect my simple, but, important property. I found the cell in the same savage condition as I left it. Later, I learned that that invasion was called surprise unit search for all the Jail’s units at different times followed by the striptease rape of every inmate who cleaned up and reorganized their cells after the end of the invasion like slaves. The above mentioned process seemed very important to the jail although it was completely futile. During my 303-day sentence, I experienced ten unit invasions and striptease rapes. Nothing illegal was found not because of the legal conduct of the criminals, but, of their professionalism and intelligence that had been superior compared to the states impotency and sadism. The only purpose of the above mentioned humiliation can only be punishment and state’s democratic barbarism. It seems to me that the mentioned degrading punishment is not an unintended consequence of a security measurement, but, a very well planned and executed violation of the human dignity of all inmates. In addition, the Government and its agents do not expect criticisms from their victims since they have earned such a violation of their pride as criminals form the state’s point of view. Respect or violation of human rights cannot be measured at the level of the strongest, richest, and most privileged members of the society (those people constitute what is called the establishment and I name them the Untouchables) such the Canadian Prime Minister, for example. It can only be measured at the level of the weakest and least fortunate members of the society. They are victims of the society that is not accountable for depriving them from the tools that are offered to other privileged individuals.

My native Cree roommate asked the young guard where he was taking me. He responded that he did not know, although he knew. The roommate did not waste his last opportunity before my disappearance without begging. He asked for pre-prepared dry soup bought, of course, from the jail’s canteen. He was never embarrassed from begging anything, including my cloths, to satisfy his needs. But, since I had declared my intention to start a hunger strike, I could not take all the food I had purchased from the canteen at first-class hotels’ prices to the unknown trip that I was expecting inside the Castle of Horrors. I dropped all that food on his mattress on the floor of the single bunk cell number 3 before I left. I think that God was generous to him because what heavens had dropped on his head from the sky was more than what he had ever dreamt to receive for free. Not only that, he could move to occupy my bed right away. Anyhow, it was very pleasing to get rid of him. At that time, I did not know that I could kick him out from my cell or ask to leave it and go to another one with someone I felt comfortable with.

I put all my precious possessions in a bed sheet and then put it on my back; then, I was ready to return to cell number 13 inside the Health Care Unit for the unknown consequences of my rebellion. After the young guard had left, I started covering my bed and wearing all my clothes to be able to have a worm sleep inside the cold jail. Then, I started putting my property such as soap, toothbrushes- and paste, a cub, note books, pens, a comb, and socks on the edge between the bed and the wall. There was no table or shelves like all in other cells of the jail. That was a small democratic harassment. When I finished sorting everything on the mentioned edge and felt satisfied, the administration manager visited me. He was tall, good looking, and smiling most of the time. I had difficulty to understand how can anyone be happy inside such a place, except, sadist human beings. He and his younger companion gave me a big plastic bag to put my stuff inside. Those plastic bags were very important in many ways. They were transparent that the jail’s employees could always see their content. They were used to contain garbage or given to convicts as suitcases to transport their belongings from one cell, unit, or even jail to another. The guard gave me the false impression that he was helping me finding a suitable place for my stuff, but, he was confiscating them. That was one way of the democratic terror and harassment. That action would deprive the convict from exercising any activity which is a democratic mental terror. I was lucky to keep my cloths and the bedding so that I could have a warm sleep. I could not brush my teeth because the smiley guard confiscated my toothbrush-and past. Anyhow, I could not do that as there was no water available. Nevertheless, brushing your teeth without paste and water is good enough under such circumstances. I felt that my blood pressure went up because I suffered from unusual storing headache throughout the entire night. At 7:00 in the morning, a guard opened a window in the center of the cell’s door, put a tray with the meager jail’s breakfast, said breakfast, and then left. That was the first meal that I refused. At 8:00 a.m., a nurse appeared and I asked her to measure my blood pressure. She said “later”, but, had never returned. Half an hour later, another guard put the official charge against me of disobeying the guards’ orders to submit to the striptease rape. Half an hour later, another guard accompanied me to the internal court room inside the maximum security Unit 2 that was equipped with close circuit TV (CCTV). The investigator, prosecutor, and judge at the same time, was from outside the jail. It was a video conference. At the other end was a lady, I believe a lawyer. She was polite and respectful and asked me whether I refused to submit to the strip search and why. I said that my religion prohibited nudity in front of people, that procedure was degrading, a violation of the Canadian Constitution and Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms, in reality useless, savage, and can be replaced by a civilized and deception proof technology of the 21st century. She understood my position and pronounced the least sentence of denying me the one-hour daily leisure privilege for 4 days. I told her that I would refuse any future jail’s demands of the same rape. That sentence was irrelevant because I was under a complete isolation that would, anyhow, not allow any privilege such as going to the gym for an hour a day. Inmates went to the gym or library only with their respective units. No one could go outside that system. Prisoners of the different units were not permitted to meet with others from the other units. I was outside of that system and under the control of the administration, whose guards dressed only the blue uniforms.

After the internal court and sentence, I was moved from cell number 13 to cell number 7 inside the same Health Care Unit. Here, the isolation was double secured as cell 7 was one of four rooms inside an isolated section within the Health Care Unite. That section was separated from that unit by large glass windows and a door that was centrally locked or unlocked. Everything inside that area could be seen from the outside through the glass in addition to the live pictures sent by cameras installed all over the prison and around it from the outside to a central office where guards observed all that on monitors. They were able to lock and unlock every door inside the jail and communicate with every inmate inside his or her cell or in front of any door through the intercom system. The four isolated cells (number five to eight) inside the segregated section in the Health Care Unit had steel doors that were locked and unlocked centrally, too. Outside of those cells, still, inside the separated zone, there was a hall that had a TV, several broken seats, a telephone, a hot water boiler to make coffee, if you were allowed to and had money to buy it, and some books out of my interest. Inmates were imprisoned here for different reasons. Some needed direct medical attention for the seriousness of their health condition. Others needed protection by complete isolation from the entire criminal population because they were accused of being rats (informers) or sex offenders. I belonged to a different category and was punished for violating the sadist jail’s rules by refusing to submit to the striptease rape and daring to go on a hunger strike. I was not allowed to leave my cell without permission from the administration, for example, to have a shower, make a phone call, or get my blood pressure and heart pulse measured by a nurse. I, also, could not leave the cell without the company of a guard or more as if I was going to blow the entire jail up. My cell contained nothing but a bed, a metal sink and a metal toilet, a plastic mirror, and the typical nontransparent window. There were no table, no seat, and no shelves to store anything. Anyhow, I had nothing after the confiscating all my few possessions. At the beginning, I enjoyed the calm environment, getting rid of my nasty roommate and the noise of over 70 inmates in the best of mood. Guards in the blue uniforms brought the miserable jail’s food that had never filled anyone three times daily. I refused each and every one of them. They were registering every meal I refused. That was not, only, my first experience in the criminals’ world as a prisoner, but also, in the field of hunger strike. The first day on my hunger strike was the 22^nd day of my sentence. Most nurses in that unit were women and busy with the medical needs of more than 300 inmates in all the different parts of the Castle of Terror. They called some to the clinic who came alone without guard companionship. They decided which one could see the prison’s doctor, who went to the hospital for tests or to see a specialist, and who spoke to a specialist over the video phone (CCTV). They went to every individual unit or section of the jail three times a day to deliver medications to every inmate in his or her incarceration area. The funniest thing was observing every one swallowing his pills and opening his mouth to show the nurse that he was not hiding the pills somewhere inside the mouth because some medication could be sold among prisoners. That was the reason for the nurses to administer the pills personally several times a day.

Later, I could guess the reasons for blocking the inmates’ vision to see the outside World by having all the jail cells’ windows nontransparent. The windows were covered with foils that did not allow seeing through them, but, let the day light penetrate. The prisoners were to be prevented from following the security arrangements outside the jail that was observed from the exterior by police, other government, and private looking vehicles. Some convicts suggested that there were guards hiding in farm buildings surrounding the jail. The inmates were not allowed to follow that surveillance routine to prevent them from escaping and smuggling. The prison was surrounded by a huge green area, rows of large trees, and two high wire fences with 10 meters, approximately, of space between them. On their top, there were huge rolls of barb-wires.

In the next morning after moving me to cell number 7, another guard in the late fifties of his age and in the blue uniform with three maple leaves (stars) on each shoulder came to talk to me. He was another (DDO) deputy director (operation) who was running the jail that morning. Later, I learned that his wife and daughter were, also, guards with the same prison. It was common that many employees were members of the same family. He ordered me to leave the cell, to sit on one of the broken seats, and sat on the only unbroken seat in front of me. He asked why I refused to submit to the strip search and the reason for my hunger strike. I told him my position. He was intelligent, knowledgeable, and nice to deal with in contrast to his co-worker with the unpleasant face, who dealt with me the night before. He had a brain in contrast to most guards who were brainless and sadist, understood my position, and explained the importance of the striptease rape (strip search) for the safety of everyone, but, he could never convince me that that barbaric procedure could ever be justified. I have always disrespected anyone who defended such a savage procedure. He did not support the savage way the guards searched the unit and called it unprofessional as if he and the jail’s authority were not responsible for the conduct of their employees. That cruel way had never changed during my entire sentence, except, with me to some extent. They were more cautious. He asked me what would cause me to stop the hunger strike. I said never to be asked to submit the strip search. He said that that was impossible. I said that I would continue my action and refuse to submit to any future striptease rape. He explained that the law gave them the right to use force to strip search me, but, they had never used that right with me. I, also, have never experienced any jail’s employee using force with any inmate. He said that, as a result of my hunger strike, I would be deprived from what they call every privilege. That meant having me locked up for almost 24 hours a day without any contact with the general public of prisoners. He returned my possessions in the plastic bag after he made sure that it did not contain any food. I had never figured out the reasons for confiscating and returning my property many times to come except as a legal harassment that I call the democratic terror. After my stuff had been returned, I did not find any place to accommodate it except on the only piece of furniture I had, the bed, around my head, shoulders, and beside me. I could brush my teeth and continue writing my diaries that helped me write this story. It took me six and a half months of a full-time work to finish and publish it on my website:

https://democracygame.wordpress.com/justice-human-rights-and-corruption-in-canada/.

The official reason for my complete isolation (inside the Health Care Unit) was to observe my health condition as a hunger striker. That was not true as future events would prove. It was only a democratic terror punishment of applying a psychological pressure of the total segregation and the prevention of any possible activity to force me to quit that rebellion. A hunger strike was something that the government did not like for reasons that I do not know for sure. But, governments do not like focusing public attention on one of its practices to avoid discovering the usual corruption spread in the marrow of every governmental organization. If a hunger striker is hurt or dies, the public attention would demand answers for all the circumstances surrounding such an event. Embarrassing facts might surface. In addition, the government bears the responsibility for all prisoners’ safety. Any harm or death would lead to legal actions that would release more information about the system and might result in large sums of money as compensation to be paid to the “victim”. That is the least concern, I believe, because taxpayers pay for any government’s mistakes and corruption, not, the persons who commit them. Please note that taxpayers pay for the Department of Justice that defenses any legal action of Canadians against a particular government, and then, the compensation to the victims, if the courts have no choices but to rule on their behalf, because such legal actions occur under the focused lights of the mass media and a broad public attention. The amounts spent on such actions can reach hundreds of millions of dollars at the taxpayers’ expense. Please, keep in mind here that the Department of (the Canadian) “Justice” has nothing to do with “justice” at all, but, it functions in the same way mafias work. It defends the Canadian Governments whether justice is served or not and at your expense. Well, I call that the Democratic Mafia that needs to be exported to every nation on the Planet Earth. In other words, taxpayers finance governments’ corruption, mismanagement, their wars, and the Untouchables. Do not forget the resulted budget deficits of all Governments of the proud Western Democratic World. Taxpayers suffer from increased taxation to balance the those budgets and the lower classes bear most the burdens. I call them (with all due respect) the Democratic Fools. The prison’s authority put every possible legal pressure upon me to stop my hunger strike. That was the reason for my determination to continue.

I was not allowed to use the phone before the fifth day of my hunger strike rebellion. My wife was worried because I was used to phone every day. She had sent a note asking to call home or to write. I told her about my rebellion against the striptease rape, but, not about my hunger strike to avoid causing her further a agony. My jail sentence has caused a lot of irreparable destruction in our lives at that particular time and for life. In addition to the fact that going to jail is a real life threatening event, she had to double the number of her work hours to be able to fulfill our financial obligations and to take care of our 14-year old daughter, who had already started her own rebellion against my way of raising her. Being convicted as a criminal and disappearing into the prison was an opportunity for her from heavens to get rid of the only authority figure in her life. I have had a complete and complex concept about upbringing her. She did not like it and preferred what I call the social pressure (Peers’ Pressure) for her education. She liked to do what her peers did, not, following any educational concept of her father, who was there for her 24 hours a day for her entire life. I lost control over her; she became free and the main victim of my wrongful conviction. She became similar to the lost girls I gave rides on the streets whose only concerns were sex, alcohol, drugs, bars, and emptiness. Well, She, still, had been influenced by my previous education, but, she will never be able to come close to her maximum potential without the education that her father was able to provide her. God curse you all who cause that. I succeeded in having her achieve an average school mark of 80% on her own. She used to say that only she deserved the credit for such a performance. I wanted 95%, but, she could not achieve that without further help from me. She had already received gold medals in swimming, was competing at the provincial level, could play three musical instruments, and had been a reader. I was kidnapped by the Canadian Government before succeeding in convincing her to concentrate on books with substance instead of only fiction to be able to grow intellectually and have her own concepts about life. I will never forgive the Canadian Government for the amount of destruction it has caused my daughter who does not know that right now because she is enjoying her freedom like all homeless people on the streets. No doubt, she is free. Only Stalin and Mao Tse-Tung could have caused more devastation than the Canadian Government that is an abstract term that does not exist. The Canadian Government was the prosecutor (D. A. Labrenz) and the judge (W. Vaughn Hembroff) who sent me to jail wrongfully and knowingly. They were the state at that particular time. The prosecutor wanted to win and he did, however, he was not concerned about justice, but, about the rights of the drunks on the streets., and to show me what culture should rule. The judge was lazy to peruse justice. Both of them had no conscience like the lawyer. God curse all of them. But, who does have conscience? Do you?

I could have a shower by permission and a guard had to accompany me to the showers of the administration area. Shower time was, also, laundry time to be able to keep clean during that complete isolation. While having a shower, I used to wash my underwear, socks, the gray T-shirt, a towel, or the pillow cover. That was the only way to keep clean. I could not use the dripping water from the cell’s sink to do such a job. There was no way to dry the wet cloths except to spread them on the bed, the only piece of furniture available. That was, also, the reason that I spent 24 hours a day lying in the bed beside my dry and wet clothes. I planned not to drink to shorten the period of my hunger strike and its effect, but, I could not, so I drank a few drops every day. It felt as it was coming directly from Heavens, especially, with the advancement of the length of the hunger strike. The jail’s purpose of my complete isolation was to put psychological pressure upon me to quit the hunger strike in addition to separating me from every other prisoner to cut any information about my rebellion to avoid its spread. Inmates did not have any particular reason to revolt. Just having someone revolting would inspire a general revolt as they were treated worse than animals. My comparison is very inaccurate as if animals are treated badly. My courage to revolt would have been sufficient to inflame a wider uprising. The Government, like every totalitarian regime, would never allow such an expression of dissatisfaction. That was the reason for removing any prisoner from the entire jail to another prison in a different city once he started any act of rebellion. I was never put in the hole during my rebellions–there had been another one to come–for the same reason. Unit 2 was filled with prisoners who would notice my refusal of every meal and they would spread the news inside the entire jail upon their return to their units.

Inmates including myself were moved from one cell and one unit to another as if they were chicken being moved from one cage to a different one. By the end of my 303-day sentence term, I had experienced 17 different cells and 6 separate units. I did not count cells that I occupied more than once. Every time, I had to collect my possessions in the same plastic garbage transparent bags or in a bed sheet and to carry them with me. In addition to the democratic terror of the total isolation, I was treated in the dirtiest way I had ever experienced in the entire of my life in any country of the World though Canada brags about its record of respect of human rights and civility. The guard’s job in a Canadian jail is the best place for sick souls to practice sadism under the encouragement and protection of a brutal government. Their savage treatment increased during my hunger strike as an extra tool to pressure me to quit my action, of course, under the jail’s authority’s instructions. The guards in the blue uniforms and, also, the nurses were nothing but brutal machines like the terminator. Most guards treated prisoners with disrespect and indignity. That treatment was intensified with me during my rebellion. I noticed their better treatment to my neighbors inside the Health Care Unit who were not protesting anything. The jail employed a psychologist, apparently, to help the prisoners, but, the deeper reason was to observe the vulnerable ones so that they would not suffer from any psychological damage or commit suicide that might lead to law suits against the government. The psychologist measured how much pressure could the jail apply without reaching that critical point of mental damage, all within the democratic morals. One of the most important questions that the psychologist asked inmates under the democratic pressure was whether they considered committing suicide.

As the hunger strike advanced, my energy and ability to exert any effort decreased considerably. That condition played a reversible role against the government plan of my isolation. My weakness did not leave any room for the emptiness planned by the jail’s authority as a part of the mental pressure upon me. As any sick person, I spent my day lying or sleeping in my bed. There was no extra energy for any desire for any activity. It was impossible for me to continue the imposed isolation with full strength and energy. The normal result of such isolation would be a nervous breakdown. The psychologist played an important role observing me to prevent such a condition and liability for the government. Later, a guard told me that only a mentally sick person would survive a month under such a complete isolation without any (further) damage.

On the 4^th of my hunger strike and the 30^th day of my sentence, I started considering writing my story with the Canadian so called “Justice System” and the Canadian justice in general. I thought of the following titles: 303 Days in a Canadian Jail, An Innocent Man in Canadian Prison, and An Innocent Man between the Jaws of Human Dogs.

I kept in touch with my elderly parents, but, never told them what had happened to me because that would have killed them. I was not expected to be in such a place. For them, I was a respectful man with a high level of morals, culture, civility, and education.

During that suffering, I remembered that I got rid of my ugly roommate who was never embarrassed from begging anything he saw that I had. That was his way of life. I forbade him form asking me for anything, but, he had never listened and continued begging constantly. He might have forgotten or ignored my instructions. At that time, I did not know that I could kick him out of my cell or leave to another one with someone whom I felt comfortable with. I, also, did not know at that time that he was kicked out of cell number 4 by my next roommate Quinton.

Inside cell number 7 in the double isolated area of the Health Care Unit, the clang of metal keys that were used to lock and unlock steel doors and the noise of motors locking and unlocking the same doors centrally using the computer replaced the noise of 70 inmates shouting and laughing at the same time. That made it impossible to forget that I was, really, in a jail, even while I was sleeping. Most jail employees seemed to be dehumanized and lost civility to be able to perform such a brutal job with such inhumanity. I was not surprised because I knew that most human beings would do anything for pay. I call that “MERCENARINESS”.

Fasting had made me feel what I knew about the blessings that God has given to mankind who take it for granted without thankfulness, especially, in the so called Democratic World where people are mostly occupied with enjoying as much as they could of life’s pleasures destroying a lot of resources and ignoring the suffering of billions of other human beings and Earth destruction.

I discovered that my neighbor in cell number 6 was from the same Unit number 5. His head was shaved completely like many prisoners. Later, I learned that he was a member of one of the criminal gangs. He was wrapping his head with cloths and seemed to have been suffering from pain. He said that the jail’s dentist pulled 8 wisdom teeth out of his mouth! I knew that there are only four. That dentist was very famous of removing the inmates’ teeth instead of treating them. I heard that he pulled out some wrong ones. He made sure to keep all the removed teeth to destroy the evidence of his malpractice. Dentists outside the jail did everything possible to save their patients’ teeth, but, as a government policy to keep expenses within budget, the dentist co-operated to achieve such a financial goal because pulling teeth out are much cheaper than treating them. At the same time, he was breaching the code of ethical conduct of his profession. My future advice to new prisoners with teeth problems was never to go to that man as they would lose their teeth unnecessarily. That was an extra reason for me to have cleaned my teeth very well with the primitive tools that the government imposed upon all inmates. I was most lucky not to need to visit the jail’s dentist during my 303-day jail term. That was the government and its agents committing crimes and covering them up without going to jail like their vulnerable victims. Those belong to the lower classes of the Untouchables who are above the law.

My female neighbor in cell number 8 was in her thirties and used to practice masturbation four times a day on average very loudly. I learned later that she was a prostitute. The Canadian definition of prostitution is receiving a payment in return for having sex with someone who pays for that service. That is the general definition in the Western World. Anyhow, I minded my own business and did leave her alone. Sometime, she was noisy listening to the loud radio early in the morning and banging on the window and door loudly without any reason known to me. Only, when she disturbed me while I was talking to my wife on the phone, I shouted “shut up” in a way that made her to be quiet. She did not know why I was in prison and that I might have been dangerous, and that had helped. She was released several times during my ten-month jail term and returned to the same double isolation section inside the Health Care Unit as several other prisoners met her as they needed a direct medical attention later. Probably, the reasons of her return had been violating the conditions of her release. Such conditions might have been abstinence of alcohol, drugs, or prostitution. Prostitution is illegal in the Canadian Province of Alberta. But the legal definition of prostitution makes a big difference for the world of sex business. It has to include an intercourse. Anything without that was not prostitution. That was the reason for the legal availability of sex stores such as the sex massage. In those stores sex was sold without intercourse and that was legal. That meant that men ejaculated outside of the female hosts’ bodies. But, if that would not be good enough for male customers, there has been a better legal avenue called escort services. The Canadian law does not criminalize babysitting nor adult sitting. A man can hire a female to provide him with social company, exactly, like hiring someone to take care of a child while the parents go to the bar. That is completely legal and honest according to the Canadian law. But, during that paid adult sitting, the female hostess decides to have complete sex with the customer based on the sacred democratic mutual consent. That is for free. In other words of the world of business and marketing: buy that and get the other one for free. The man can ejaculate inside her body legally. That is lawful and cannot be labeled as prostitution. The famous late Prime Minister Pier Trudeau had once said in the Canadian Parliament as he was still a Minister of Justice: “the Canadian Government has no business in the nation’s bed rooms”. That was the start point of his career as the most famous Canadian state’s man. It seems that my female neighbor had sold prostitution in a direct way that allowed the honest law enforcement agents to send her to jail. Many of those people like her are victims of the broader unaccountable society. Many were raised on the streets or in homes that thought them ways of life that ended them in jails. Many were born to alcoholic and drug addicted mothers and, therefore, were doomed for life and had no choices at all because of the damage to their brains. Anyhow, the democratic governments (federal and provincial) do not excuse them nor go after the real causes of people committing crimes. My female neighbor seemed to be one of those society’s victims. She was treated very nicely in contrast to cruel treatment I was receiving for defying the jail’s employees’ vanity, arrogance and ignorance. My female neighbor slept most of the day and was very happy though the quasi complete isolation. She was allowed to watch TV for a few hours a day alone or in the presence of another female only. She, also, was allowed to walk in the internal yard of the jail, which was a jail, too, but with an open roof with a wire fence to prevent escape. Anyhow, the roof was very high and needed three people to stand on the top of each other to be able to reach it. Guards used to joke and talk with my female neighbor. She seemed to be fun to have around them. I met her after my release as she asked me for a Loony (a Canadian dollar). I reminded her that we were in the same place once; that encouraged her to ask me whether I had a car. I had neither a Loony nor a car. I did not understand what for she wanted a car, a ride or more. I was lucky to escape that encounter unharmed.

I was allowed to have a razor five days after the start of my hunger strike. The nurses were allowed to give me the jail’s disposable razor of the worst quality that could be found in the market. It was always a slaughter to shave. But, I still shaved to maintain my civility. Without shaving for five days, I looked very wild in the plastic mirror of the cell. Further, I was allowed to use a nail clipper to cut my nails. That was an achievement to keep my decency with the permission of the government man keepers. On the 7^th day of my rebellion and the 33^rd of my sentence, I wanted to call my wife to congratulate her on her birthday, but, the jail’s gods did not allow me to use the phone. They changed their mind on the next day and let me call. I told her about the hunger strike and asked her to contact the media and convey a message from me, an innocent hunger striking convict. After the phone call, I was allowed to clean the cell for the first time. I did that with a great difficulty.

On the tenth day of my rebellion, the local newspaper refused to publish anything about my hunger strike. That was not a surprise because it did business with the local authorities as a source of news. In democracy the media and government are two members of the same mafia, but, no one knows about that. I wondered that the national radio, CBC, owned by the government aired news about my hunger strike, but, it omitted my claim of being innocence and the mistreatment of inmates. I mentioned that the government agents treated prisoners worse that treating animals of the humane societies. That was a real mistake because animals are not treated bad at all to make them an example of abuse. That piece of news was put on the internet:

http://www.cbc.ca/canada/calgary/story/2010/02/26/alta-prisoner-hungerstrike.html,

http://www.cbc.ca/canada/calgary/story/2010/03/06/calgary-prisoner-hunger-strike-ended.html.

http://www.hollywoodistalking.com/hj3erer90/173280/aion+power+leveling+sentence.html

Many people agreed with the government on the basis that criminals deserve whatever treatment they are offered and earned. All those I wish a just or unjust conviction of an honorable Canadian court to send them to any Canadian jail for at least a period of ten months to enjoy what I had enjoyed. Probably, they think they would never be in such a position. I thought the same once. Many people are mercenaries. They produce whatever opinion that supports their paymasters such as government employees and their families supporting their employer. My jail sentence had prevented me from publishing a very long article about democracy and how it works. May be that was the real purpose of my wrongful conviction. The Canadian media and public opinion did not care about what is going inside the Canadian jails, which I hope to change by publishing this story. Most people do not think that they might end in one of the civilized Canadian jails. So, since their personal interest is the only driving force for their actions and attitudes, I understand their position. This story might change that because it proves that innocent people can become victims of the Canadian governmental corruption. But, do not forget that most criminals are in reality victims of the broader society that does not bear any responsibility for its crimes. The national radio, CBC, invited the Provincial Solicitor General to comment. As in any Banana Republic, the lady did not have any idea about the subject she was talking about. She recommended that I complain to the jail’s director implicating that the man had no clue about what was going inside his jail, and worse, implying that the strip search was something to complain about! Well, they told me in the jail that it was legal. If it had been legal, why did she recommend complaining? You cannot complain about anything that is legal, or, can you?

On the eleventh day of my hunger strike, the trip of going to have a shower, of course in the company of a guard, was very difficult. Afterward, I had to lie down on the bed immediately because I had used all the energy that was there in the poor body. Breathing under the shower’s water was a kind of a relief because my lungs absorbed some of the humidity of the air under the shower. The smallest jobs such as making the bed and brushing my teeth were very difficult to perform, but, I did that. Fasting caused my sleeping time to be reduced considerably, although, I was lying in the bed almost 24 hours a day, just because of the lack of any other piece of furniture. The taste of my saliva was bitter. I had no doubt that that was the result of the fasting that caused the catabolism to exceed any anabolism in my body. In other words, my body was degrading its tissues to gain the necessary energy that needed to continue life such as for the heart beat and the lungs’ function. Protein was, also, needed for the essential body metabolism and that was gained from degrading the body tissues, too. Catabolism caused the secretion of byproducts that needed to be eliminated, some of which landed in my saliva.

An American lady from Seattle, she said, replaced my neighbor, who lost eight teeth at the hands of the jail’s dentist, in cell number 6. She did not have soap, so, I gave her a piece. That opened the door for her to beg on a daily basis for money and food. I wondered that because she received three meals a day and I had not eaten for 12 consequent days, which means that I missed 36 meals. Though, she was not embarrassed from asking for food. I could not, anyhow, do that because I was on a hunger strike which would have made it a joke to order food from the jail’s canteen. My other neighbor in cell number 8 kept busy practicing masturbation several times a day very loudly. I really cannot remember whether that behavior was funny or annoying for someone who was suffering from hunger, humiliation, and the destruction of every element of his life at the hands of the civilized democratic Canadian Government.

When I reached the 13^th day of my hunger strike, my news reached several local radio and TV stations. I believe they just copied each other. I decided to discontinue the hunger strike not to harm my health permanently, but, determined to refuse every following order to submit to the sadist striptease rape by the sadist government’s agents. My family was still intact and that was a reason for the desire to continue to live. My hunger rebellion lasted ten days more than what the smart jail supervisors expected of only three days. It was good to beat stupid people who though that their government uniforms and jobs as man keepers would increase the level of their intelligence, knowledge, and intellect. Of course it did not. My first miserable meal drove most of the blood in my body to circulate to and from my digestive system and left little blood going to my brain. That caused me to faint for a moment as I tried to stand up and fell to the ground in the darkness of the night. The digestion of the first meal caused an equal suffering to the one resulted from the fasting itself. The knowledgeable kitchen staff sent me a liquid meal, but, filled with spices. That was very difficult to digest. I do not blame them. They did not know any better, nor did they care. They were just dealing with criminals. I lost 12 kilograms during that hunger strike period above the 3 kg I lost after entering the jail and enjoying its meager meals.

RETURN TO THE CASTLE OF HORRORS AND

TERROR

After a 15-day period of a complete isolation in cell number 7 inside the Health Care Unit, the jail’s authority sent me back to Unit 5 without the company of any guards. On my way, there was a female parole officer (Melanie MacDonald) waiting to talk to me because I had applied for parole and based my application on my claim of being innocent and that my lawyer sent me to jail intentionally or unintentionally. At that time, I still believed that he might have made a mistake. Later, I became convinced that he sent me to jail on purpose for a reason that, only, he knows. She said that my parole application could never be approved as long as I denied committing the crime for which I was convicted, refused to express remorse for the crime I was supposed to have committed, and at last the lack of any participation in the jail’s programs. She added that I had to show that I had changed during the period of my imprisonment. That lady was the most stupid government employee I had ever met during my involuntary incarceration inside the Canadian Castle of Terror. My encounter with her would continue and cause me much more agony only because the stupid person that she was. I responded that I had not committed any crime and received no defense at all. I added that I had not changed, nor had I planned to change. In my parole application, I referred to the history of incidents in North America when the development of the DNA test has proven the innocence of convicted murderers who had spent tens of years of their precious lives behind bars. That fact alone shows that no legal system is error proof. She asked whether I wanted to withdraw my application. I said no. She handed me a questionnaire containing hundreds of questions that were based on the assumption that the respondent was a confessing criminal or a serial outlaw. Furthermore, the questions were shamelessly utmost personal and covered the entire life of the convict. I had never answered a single question of such a questionnaire nor admitted the crime I have never committed.

At the administration office of Unit 5, a female guard wanted to send me back to my former cell number 3 with the same roommate. I said no way. She sent me to cell number 4 and gave me the naked khaki mattress. I had all my belongings inside a bed sheet on my back. Many inmates greeted me as I was, to some extent, famous. My news were still being aired on the radio. Every cell contained a radio device that could receive a selected number of stations. They let me know what was said about me in the media.

I proceeded to the assigned cell that was one of ten single bunk rooms on the lower floor. They were always filled with two prisoners, one of whom slept on the floor and he was the newcomer. I knocked on the door and entered. Someone was sleeping in the bed. I said sorry for disturbing you. He looked to me unhappily because I spoiled his comfort of being alone in the single cell and returned to sleep without saying a word. I said “whether you like it or not, I am staying here”, and started spreading the mattress on the floor. I, also, removed his stuff from one of the four available shelves on the top of each other and facing the bed without his permission. That was not very professional, but, I did it. I continued arranging my few belongings on that shelf. Like all other cells, the room contained a wall table and a plastic seat. That was a comfort that I was not used to during the previous 15 days. My roommate got up and started removing his stuff from another shelf for my belongings in a complete silence. I apologized for being rude and explained that I had just been released from a 15-day period of a complete isolation and a 13-day period of a hunger strike. For goodwill, I offered him a box of chocolate chips cookies. He showed understanding and I stayed alive. He told me that my last native Cree roommate living in cell number 3 was his roommate, before he kicked him out, as he could not stand him exactly like me. This is how he landed in my former cell. I said that his punishment was having me moving into his cell and spoiling the comfort of being alone. I felt a fool to have suffered from the company of my past roommate so long while I could have left the room for him or kicked him out. It took some extra time to learn the jail’s life. I told him my story and he told me his. I was shocked to know that his arteries were clogged up to 95% and could not see the jail’s doctor for the past 60 days. Well, I saw him every time he came to the jail, twice a week, during my hunger strike without having such a condition. I said that his illness could kill him at any time. He agreed and explained it further. He was very educated about his health and how to deal with it. Any wrong food could kill him, and that exactly was what he was getting form the kitchen. He received regular miserable meals high in fat, cholesterol, and calories. He begged the nurses and guards to get a low fat and cholesterol diet, but, they knew better, denied him that kind of diet, and kept arguing with him in all ignorance, stupidity, shamelessness, and stubbornness. He knew that the regular meals he received would kill him in a very short time. To save his life, he traded the parts in his food with high content of fat and cholesterol with fruits and vegetables from other inmates. The criminals were more compassionate than the Government and its employees. I gave him my fruits for free and witnessed all that myself. I suggested to him to fill another request to see the jail’s doctor, write that he was at risk of a heart attack and a stroke, and he had to see the doctor immediately. That was the truth formulated in a way that made it clear to the nurses who decided who could see the doctor and who could not that they would be legally responsible for his death if not allowed to see the doctor. Well, he met with the doctor on the next day who ordered the right diet for him immediately.

All sick human egos could be satisfied by an employment with such a sadist environment because prisoners are criminals who have lost (all) their rights, as the hated supervisor Goldie thought, and can be mistreated to the maximum satisfaction of such cruel souls. Quinton was an extreme example for the mentioned abuse, which was by no means an individual maltreatment, but, a way of performing a job and an attitude.

My transfer from the total isolation and the company of terminators, Frankenstein creatures, machines, or dehumanized guards into the general public of criminals was a relief. The criminals were humane and those who knew me were happy to see me again. I could get any help I needed. They were honest; most of them told me the reason(s) for being in jail and trusted me. I appreciated such a confidence and have never betrayed it. They even believed that I was innocent that meant a lot to me. They advised me to the best of their knowledge. Loyalty to each other was most important to the prisoners as they had so much in common. The savage state’s behavior and attitude reflected in the jail’s employees’ conduct was an extra reason to consider the state as an enemy. You do not want to be loyal to your enemy and your enemy would never succeed in the illusive job of reforming a criminal behavior. For such an important social job, the reformer has to be respected, trusted, and believed in, all are factors that are absent from the Canadian Banana “Correctional” System. The main cause for such a failure is the Government corruption and the extreme stupidity and the unprofessionalism of the governmental employees in charge. Governments and their agents never acknowledge doing any mistakes, abuse of power for personal, financial and psychological benefits at the expense of the public good, and claim serving the public’s best interest. The strongest defenders of the Government and state are, no doubt, their personnel as they make their living from that powerful monster. In most cases, they cannot bite the hand that feeds them and gives them all the benefits they enjoy and form a moral alliance of interests. Have you ever heard that a police officer charged his community judge for drunk driving or his co-worker’s wife for a traffic violation? A smart police executive, once, responded to such an argument that his wife had recently received a speeding ticket in the mail, but, did not mention that the street radar photographed her vehicle and could not identify who she was. Such stubborn and shameless arguments are very important to protect the corrupt state and its beneficiaries. State and government are illusive terms that are not tangible and cannot be seen, heard, or touched, but, just an abstraction that incorporate all individuals representing it and their actions. Inmates have an important function for the jail’s guards. They are the reason for the enormous salaries they receive to maintain humiliating them that causes a lot of satisfaction to many of their sadist souls. Prisoners are a great fortune for the guards, their livelihood, psychology, and families, as the Canadian Provincial Government of Alberta pays more than $60,000 and the Canadian Federal Government pays over $100,000 to punish every inmate a year. A great portion of that expense goes to the man keepers’ salaries. To maintain the flood of those funds to guarantee the well-being of those state agents, my life, livelihood, and family had to be destroyed.

Prisoners’ social life plays a vital role for their survival under the powerful state’s punishment, degradation, isolation from the broader Canadian society, and the non-reforming corrupt influence of the government employees. For honesty, I have to mention that there have been extremely few bright examples of guards who were struggling to play a constructive role in the lives of the inmates they had been in charge of. Those will be mentioned (by name) at the relevant part of the story. The criminals’ social life, however, had been illusive, opportunistic, and primitive in most cases because it had only the function of satisfying a temporary need.

Staying on the floor just beside and facing the toilet in Quinton’s cell number 4 let me smell the bad odor continuously, but, I survived. There was no other space available in each cell except on the floor between the bunk, the wall table and seat, the wall shelves, and the toilet. I have to admit that having a running water and a toilet was much better than having none or a bucket instead of the toilet. I spent just a day and a night with Quinton and enjoyed his company, honesty, and humanity. We stayed friends for the following weeks until he was released. I had always been pleased to see him alive and well. In the morning of my 42^nd sentence day, I was given a bunk in the double bed cell number 13. The upper bunk was occupied with Red Crow, yes, the same man who made room for me to be able to sit down beside him in the Courthouse’s jail. Both of us entered the jail on the same day, the 21^st of January 2010, but, he was supposed to be released two weeks later. He was snoring in his bed. Well, that was an opportunity for me to occupy the lower bunk because it was easier than climbing to the upper one. He occupied his bed the night before and had requested to be in the same cell with me. This is why the guard asked me if it was OK to be in the same cell with him before sending me there. His roommate who occupied the lower bunk had left the unit just a few minutes before I was given his bed. The room was very dirty and needed many hours to clean while Red Crow was sleeping. He returned to the prison because he breached the conditions of his probation again. Cell number 13 became our new home for a while. But wait a moment, I was put in cell number 13 in the Health Care Unit and my unplanned hunger strike lasted 13 days! My home number is 13, as well. I started writing this story on the 13^th of July 2010. Earlier, I lived in different places with the same number 13, too. I have never had anything against that number, although, it has a very bad reputation like me as a criminal. Number 13 is as innocent like me, but, no one wants to believe that. The only difference is that number 13 does not have feelings, dignity, and honor like human beings. Now, I understand the connection between that number and myself. Both of us are victims, say, of human corruption. Red Crow left the cell after 12 days of his sentence and 54 days of my jail term. That was not the last time that he came back during my 10-month sentence.

Half an hour later, a good looking young man looked through the glass window in the center of the upper part of the steel door and knocked. He entered and introduced himself as a quiet and respectful man. He was polite and nice. Red Crow’s two empty shelves were available for him and he occupied the upper bunk. I stayed in my easy to reach lower bed. My new roommate, Johnny, was suffering from the shock of being sentenced to jail that he did not expect. He committed fraud, but, paid every penny he owed to the bank in addition to interest of 7% before going to trial, though; he had been sentenced to 15 months imprisonment. A jail sentence was a trauma for him and for me, as well, especially that he had a family to look after and going to jail would destroy his family that, in fact, happed. However, such humane considerations did not seem to be important to the legal system, especially, that there was no harm done to the cheated party that collected the entire amount of money owed in addition to a considerable profit. Johnny went to court without a lawyer. This is the situation when the accused are most vulnerable. The outcome of a court trial varies from acquittal to a severe jail sentence depending on many factors. Having a good lawyer who exerts a maximum effort to defend his client would result in the most favorable results to the accused. Such lawyers must be imported from outside the local corrupt legal community. The fact that a trial’s outcome varies depending on whether a lawyer is employed and on his quality means that justice does not exist at all. If the outcome of any trial would be the same under any circumstances, this means that the legal system provides justice, which is not the case. It is built around the core of maximum profit to the lawyers involved, a community, from which judges are chosen based on their connections within the legal community and the political system. Johnny was quiet and spent most of his time in the cell reading like me. Time has proven that the description of himself was honest and true. He became my best friend and ally. We discussed almost everything that was there to discuss and learnt from each other. His daughter was nine months old and he missed her so much. The jail did not have a barber to save costs. Inmates shaved each other’s heads. That had been very dangerous because they unintentionally wounded the skin. The shaven heads bled and the hair clippers transferred blood from one head to another. That was good enough to transmit AIDS and Hepatitis C. That practice had been worthy only of a Banana Republic and the reason that I had never let anyone cut my hair before Johnny arrived. Still, after my release, I asked my doctor for blood tests for the mentioned killer diseases. A single electric hair clipper was used for the entire jail population of over 300 inmates. Each one of the eight units used it on a certain day every week. Just one unit must have not got it at all, but, I do not know which one; the females of Unit 4 or inmates of the remand unit(s)! Johnny assured me that he knew how to cut men’s hair and that he would cut my hair the way I wished. I asked him to disinfect the hair clipper before using it and he did, most of the time. I got a haircut after 60 days of incarceration. That was a great relief for me to look civil again within the limits imposed by the slaves’ clothes. That helped me keeping myself groomed to the maximum under the degrading conditions imposed by the sadist Government.

THE SECOND STRIPTEASE RAPE REBELLION

A 15-DAY HUNGER STRIKE

On the 67th day of my sentence, Unit 5 was raided again by the guards to conduct another search of each cell and enjoy another striptease performance by their victims. Before our cell number 13 was invaded, I prepared myself and dressed well so that I would not freeze during the upcoming battle.

Two guards in the blue uniform entered the cell. The older one asked whose shit was that pointing to the contents of our shelves. I said that was called food. He did not respond. Most probably, he was one with a high school diploma, only, because of his low rank and old age, around 60 years old. They ordered Johnny and me to leave the cell. I stood outside the closed door looking to see what they were doing through the glass window of the door. Both guards started throwing our belongings all over the room. The younger guard threw my clean cloths and towels on the floor underneath his shoes. After the devastation, they let me enter the cell and ordered me to take my shoes off. I said no. I did not mind taking my shoes off, I meant no to the striptease rape and they understood. The younger guard said that they were doing their job and that I would be charged if I did not comply. I responded that I would react with a hunger strike. They ordered me to leave the cell. Before I left, I picked up my towels from under the younger guard’s shoes, raised them in front of his eyes, and asked how come that he was trampling on my clean towels that I used to dry my face and body. He could not answer. I repeated my question without receiving any response. He seemed to be embarrassed. I left the cell. They let poor Johnny enter for his striptease show, during which they were reporting my defiance to their superiors on the radio, as Johnny told me later. Then, they locked us up and left.

The guards continued searching each cell, terrorizing all 70 prisoners, and enjoying the striptease rapes. They found nothing, not only during that individual search, but also, during each and every search they conducted of the entire jail during my 303-day jail experience. How I knew anything about what was happening outside that unit, is a good question. Information and drugs could be exchanged by the inmate cleaners and library workers. In addition, some guards liked to talk too much and informed inmates about things that other guards regarded as secrets. Did that outcome mean that the prisoners were clean? Of course not, they only were smarter than the Government and its terminators. In addition to the drug dealers, who earned five folds the prices of outside the jail from selling any kind of drugs, 75% of the prisoners–according to a high ranking jail’s officer– were at any given time consuming drugs and hid them during such futile searches inside their rectums where no Canadian official could legally reach. The jail’s authority knew that very well but continued the terror searches and striptease rapes as a proof of the state’s sadism and impotency. The official attitude has always been that the criminals have earned such a humiliating treatment ignoring the Canadian Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms. May be, they thought that such a charter applies only to the Canadian Prime Minister and his financiers. The respect of such a charter can only be measured at the level of the least members of a society, not the most privileged (the Untouchables). Anyhow, the state’s and its agent’s sadism was unstoppable. Such a useless routine is implemented in every Canadian jail without success, except, with a few retarded inmates. How do I know that, is a fair question. Experienced criminals had moved around many Federal and Provincial jails and reported to fellow inmates their experiences. Any logical and neutral conclusion would lead to the purpose of the savage searches and the striptease rapes to be the desecration of the prisoners’ lives, possessions, and dignity as a part of the democratic punishment that is supposed to be associated with the function of reforming the criminals. This sounds like the logic of a Banana Republic. The barbaric systematic search of the Canadian jails’ cells and the sadist striptease rapes had never been an exception or misconduct, but, a very well planned and executed procedure violating the basic human rights of the victims contributing to the failure of reforming the convicts’ characters and attitudes making the “correctional” goal a stupid dream. Violating the human rights of prisoners in Canadian jails should disqualify Canada as a country that respects human rights. It might be a better country than others, but, it still violates basic human rights intentionally and stubbornly.

After the humiliating procedure had ended, inmates of Unit 5 were allowed to go to the gym for an hour. That was the time for the government agents to give me a lesson about the power of the state and its dogs above criminals such as myself. I spent 15-20 minutes in the gym, while the jail’s managers were consulting what to do with me. Then, they were ready; the gym’s guard called and ordered me to return to Unit 5. There, one of the most hated guards was in charge. Prisoners called him Shrek and I called him Frankenstein. I have never known his real name, nor wanted to. He was fat with a large completely bold (brainless) head that looked like a mirror. He seemed to enjoy being hated and not to mind the names given to him by the prisoners. He was an animal occupying the body of a human being and could have not found a better matching job for his sadist personality. He was vulgar, but, not the most vulgar; that description had been reserved for Dixon, with a completely bold head, too. Shrek Frankenstein in his blue uniform ordered me to collect my belongings and come back to the office. The most important thing was to remove me from the unit to stop the spread of my rebellion. My disappearance from the unit was enough warning to others not to follow my footsteps. Many fellow convicts admired my ability to say no.

I was sent to the administration and met a very young and stupid officer in the blue uniform behind the large windows of the administration office. From there on, every guard would be in the blue uniform only. He explained how he was a very tough person and pronounced all threats that were legally allowed. I told him not to waste time, dropped my possessions in the bed sheet on the floor, and walked to cell number 13 of the Health Care Unit right in front of the administration office. I was already an experienced rebel and knew that my next trip would start in that room.

After I spent the night inside that cell, I was moved in the next morning to cell number 13, yes again, inside the Administrative Custody Section in Unit One. In the same way as in the Health Care Unit, that section was completely (double) isolated from Unit One and the entire jail. It contained only three cells. Outside those cells, there was a small hall that contained a shower, a telephone, and a small room for cleaning tools and supplies. Unit One was the only minimum security unit inside the prison and the most privileged. This meant that the state’s harassment was less than in all other units. It contained 12 cells, 6 of which were single bunk rooms. That had changed by the end of my sentence, whereby every single room in the entire jail was fitted with a second bunk to increase the total jail’s capacity to three inmates in each cell with one sleeping on the floor to relieve other provincial jails from the crowdedness they were suffering. In Unit One, the cells could be left open without regular locking every 25 minutes, if the conditions would allow. This occurred when the guards did not sense any aggression among the residents who were less than 30 in total that allowed a better control. Those prisoners landed in Unit One after one third or a half of their sentence terms without violations or, may be, with light offenses. It was a rewarding unit for good behavior. However, that unit’s inmates were very special because only they were allowed to work outside the jail (of course for free) and presented a low escape risk, if they had the opportunity. That was an important function to be able to clean the large jail’s property around the buildings, mow the vast lawns around the prison, and remove mountains of snow in the severe Canadian winter. When all that was not needed such as during the summer, they were sent to labor for free for the municipal, provincial governments, and other businesses and organizations. Those free laborers were the milking cows of the jail and, therefore, they had enjoyed some relief of the extreme sadist governmental harassment. However, they were the main source of smuggling from the outside world into the jail of everything that could be sold at profit such as tobacco and all sorts of drugs, especially, weed. More will be revealed about Unit One in its relevant chapter. Now back to the completely segregated section inside that unit, the Administrative Custody.

It seems that there is really something between me and the number 13. My new completely isolated cell number 13 contained the standard single bunk, a wall table with the plastic seat, a metal sink and a metal toilet, a plastic mirror like in every other cell, and the standard nontransparent window. I was allowed to clean the cell at my arrival so I started my punishment clean. The cell did have neither running nor dripping water. This was the reason to move me, only temporarily, to the famous Unit 2 with the maximum security containing the prominent holes. I have never learned how many cells or holes that unit contained, but, It was one of the smaller units like Units 1 and 3, with a maximum capacity of 30 prisoners. Those units were on the bottom floor of the jail. Unit Two was relatively dirty and dark with a shower in the center of the hall facing all the cells. I was led to cell number 3 without a wall table, a seat, and shelves. Anyhow, I had nothing to put on the table and shelves. I was lucky because the very strong light that was in every room from breakfast time at 7:00 a.m. till 11:00 p.m. was burnt out and did not radiate any light. When I looked at it, it appeared red. I could sleep that night without the light penetrating into my eyes because I had nothing to cover them with as most prisoners did to have a better sleep. The famous Shrek Frankenstein was in charge of that unit that night. The terror journey could have not been complete without someone like him. But, more terminators were to come. I was given a toothbrush- and paste and used them. There was nothing to do with all the amenities available except to lie in the bed. I started hearing the prisoners in the neighboring cells shouting and talking to me. They wanted to know who I was and why I was there. They kept banging on the walls and shouting, but, I did not respond and kept quiet. I thought that that new cell number three would be my final grave until the end of the battle.

In the next morning at 7:00 a.m., I was offered the miserable Jail’s breakfast and that was the first meal I refused in that second hunger strike. The neighboring punished prisoners shouted to get my food, but, they were denied it. Most inmates of that unit, if not all of them, were punished for some reason such as being caught smoking, consuming drugs, fighting without distinguishing the aggressor from the victim, or even swearing a guard. I, also, experienced one who was at risk from being among the general public of criminals. The jail was incapable of performing and lacked the resources to conduct thorough investigations such as the ones accomplished by the police and, therefore, crimes went unpunished disregarding the state’s laws. Prisoners were punished upon suspicion not a proof, violating the legal principle of being innocent until proven guilty. The hole was the answer for suspected offenders. Thus, Canadian jails had been the perfect place for committing all sorts of crimes as lawless islands inside the broader state. While criminality and the law of criminals had been controlling the Canadian jails, called “Correctional Centers“, the impotent state and its agents have been claiming that their Castles of Horrors play a reforming role in the lives of their victims calling them criminals. That can only be described as hypocrisy, dishonesty, deception, and impotency, which is normal for governments in general. There is an additional logical reason for the mentioned lawless environment inside the Canadian jails, which is saving money spent on investigating staff, expertise, and resources. The prisoners noticed that I was on a hunger strike and started to inquire why, but, I kept silent.

As soon as the sink (water tap) of cell number 13 had been repaired, I was returned to it again because I was not supposed to be kept in Unit 2 during my first and second hunger strikes. The jail’s authority could not keep me in the sight of any convict to prevent the spread of my news to all the prison’s inmates. Everything had to appear completely under control and submissive to the state and the vanity of its dogs. Those prisoners in the holes of Unit Two were there temporarily for a maximum of 7 days in most cases and returned to their units afterwards, whereby, they would expose any information they could gather about me or anything else. This why, I was kept under a complete isolation in the Health Care Unit during my first rebellion and not to monitor my health condition as the jail’s manager claimed (falsified). The jail’s plan for my second hunger strike was to segregate me in a different place as they expected more than a 3-day action, since my first one lasted 13 days. Before I was returned to cell number 13 inside the completely isolated section in Unit One, I was led to the room with the close circuit TV to face the internal court where internally charged inmates are questioned, convicted, and sentenced by an outsider (lawyer) who played the role of the investigator, prosecutor, and judge. That time, a male (lawyer) interviewed me. I had not denied the charge of refusing to submit to the strip search and repeated my reasons. My religion does not permit nudity in front of strangers regardless of their gender. That procedure was completely useless, humiliating, and violating the Canadian Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms that applies to state prisoners, as well, and, hence, the Canadian Constitution. It could be replaced by another modern deception proof technology that, definitely, is available in the 21^st Century. A few honest guards agreed with me, but, in private that that procedure was completely futile and degrading. I added that I would refuse any future striptease rapes as I had already done twice. Being the subject of such an independent and outside investigation had always been an embarrassment to the jail’s authority because I exposed the savage behavior of the guards that was not a legal but informal part of the state’s official sadistic punishment of its prisoners. I exposed the common language used by many guards, such as “fuck” with all the available word combinations and “shit”, who are civil servants and represent the state; actually, they had been the state itself, a state that claims to be a leader among civilized nations. I described the barbarism in dealing with the prisoners’ belongings and having my clean cloths and towels under the guard’s shoes for no reason except savageness. I asked the investigator whether such a behavior was supported by the law. Both the jail’s representative and the investigator ware embarrassed so that the interrogator asked me to leave the room for a private talk with the jail’s officer. The investigator was in a mood to hear more, so, I told him about Quinton’s health condition and his inability to see the jail’s doctor for 60 days and receiving meals that would kill him. Quinton was still in jail and the story could easily be verified. The lawyer believed every word I said, I believe, and sympathized with me. Anyhow, I broke the jails rules and he had to convict and sentence me. I noticed his hesitation and confusion. He seemed to hate what he had to do. I encouraged him to continue. He chose the least severe sentence prescribed by the “Correctional Act”. I wonder who gave that stupid name to such a law. That must be someone from a different Universe. That was a four-day period of segregation. Well, the jail had the power to determine the quality of such isolation and it did it in a very mean way using two of the ugliest guards that were available for such missions. Although I was under a complete seclusion during the past 3 days, the jail’s authority started my penalty from nil.

I was returned to cell number 13 inside the completely isolated section inside Unite One. According to the law, I was supposed to perform another striptease performance before such a penalty, but imagine, the jail’ management breached the regulations and exempt me from that procedure. I discovered that the holey Canadian laws or regulations could be breached without the occurrence of earthquakes or the Doomsday!

In addition to the earlier confiscation of my belongings, everything had to be removed from my grave including the toothbrush- and paste by a different terminator called Hutchins. He had a large brainless body and was a very proud retired Canadian military mercenary. This is the definition of people who kill for pay. He seemed to have enjoyed what he was doing. My underwear and towels had to be removed. That was a reason for me to get angry. I was given a distinctive orange slave’s coverall that had the same black strip around the waist and a black pocket on the left hand side of the chest. That uniform had the function of labeling me as the most punishable (distinguished) convict in the entire jail. Such an outfit was very seldom to see inside the prison and I was inside it. I was given two very strange thick white sheets. Later, I learned that they were called fireproof security sheets. Those people had a rich imagination. I could not brush my teeth for the next eight days and that caused me to be very angry. Notice the legal democratic terror. Everything was legal, the jail’s director wrote so. My multivitamins – and minerals were, also, confiscated earlier. My body had fat reserves that supplied my energy needs for a while. My protein vital needs could be met by degrading the body tissues such as muscles and bones. In contrast, vitamins and minerals are not stored in the human body and need to be supplied on a daily basis. I kept writing to the jail’s director to return my multivitamins- and minerals and toothbrushes- and paste that I purchased from the jail’s canteen. He refused and kept responding that I was put under standard acceptable hygiene conditions.

I covered my bed with one of the white fireproof sheets and my body with the second one. The orange uniform was too small. A female guard replaced it with the right size, but, took the smaller one away that I used as a pillow. I could not fill the space between my head and the mattress, when I slept on my sides. I tried to fill it with my arms and this caused a lot of pain in my spine and shoulder bones. I lay in the bed all the 24 hours a day as there was nothing else inside the cell. The terminator Hutchins was very proud of being a very thorough mercenary and man keeper. He, also, was one of the most hated guards because inmates sensed his mean and sadist soul. The jail used him to perform the most difficult missions as his appearance was really terrible. His reality was different than his appearance as I had discovered later. It was completely unhygienic to be deprived of underwear with the possibility of a shower only once every second day at the mercy of the guards. Sanitation was similar to that of a pig in a pen, all within the democratic civility. The jail’s authority knew very well what they were doing, which I used to call the democratic terror because they said everything was legal. The terror squad of tow terminators appeared at the beginning of the punishment period. They were the brainless Hutchins and Lane. Both were proud former mercenaries with the Canadian military (a mercenary is someone who is paid to kill, no questions asked!). They made certain that the cell was empty of anything that could be used for a human life. They asked for my socks and shoes. I refused. They did not know what to do. Lane was brought to the aid of Hutchins who did not know how to deal with me and I clearly showed him how I despised him as a brainless mercenary. I asked him what education he had to perform such a job. That almost killed him. He seemed to have nothing but a high school diploma and a proud history of an order taker as a former soldier. He went back in the corner of the narrow corridor outside the cell and seemed terrified from my question. Lane came to his aid and answered that I would be surprised to know what education he had. That answer confirmed my thought that he had only the high school diploma. I actually did not care. What qualification the Canadian Government requires for hiring its dogs was not my concern. Only their behavior and attitude concerned me. As Lane did not know what to do after my refusal to give away my socks and the pair of the paper shoes; he asked me whether I spoke (understood) English. I said yes, but, I would not give you my shoes. Most probably, my English is much better than his despite my accent. It was clear that they were not instructed to escalate the hostility with me. I do not know what else they could have done as a punishment. At last, I gave them my socks, and enjoyed my victory of keeping my shoes because I did not want to walk with my bare feet on the cold filthy floor for four days and collecting dirt to my clean bed. You notice here that a criminal can be picky, sometimes. The two members of the terror squad accompanied me to the Health Care Unit as a nurse was supposed to measure my vital signs. They stuck their nose in everything, told me what to do and what not to do, what to say and what not to say. I became very mean due to their violation of the Privacy Act that did not allow them to behave in such a barbaric way. The poor nurse, Jackie, was terrified from that horror exercise. My blood pressure jumped very high, although, it had always remained in the normal range under the worst physical circumstances. Lane knew that my high blood pressure was a result of the terror they were subjecting me to and told the nurse so that she would not be alarmed. I started shouting at both to leave the room, but, they continued to be irritating. The two guards were so stupid that they could not understand my hostility although they were there to take my toothbrushes, underwear, towels, socks, and shoes, and everything necessary for life. They had not noticed how sadist they were. That is how terminators, Frankenstein creatures, and animals behave. Those two people were occupied in the right jobs that matched their evil souls. All that governmental instructed terror was a punishment for my hunger strike rebellion that the Government did not like. As any totalitarian regime, the Canadian Governments did not like any action of expression of dissatisfaction from any prisoner. I suspect it feared the scrutinizing eye of the public if any prisoner would be harmed inside a jail. Any government does not like any scrutiny that might expose the corruption spread in its marrow. I have always believed that the greatest enemy of human corruption is openness. This is why I am writing this story and making it available for mankind to discover the democratic Canada and democracy in general that is supposed to engulf the entire human population as the only dream possible for mankind. In contrast to the mentioned two guards, there were other civilized employees who hated humiliating prisoners and tried to avoid implementing the state sanctioned sadism that was supported by all kinds of interpretations. This means that certain procedures were allowed, but, were not mandatory. Two guards had exempted me from the striptease rape twice out of a total of ten striptease violations I was subjected to. That happened after my two hunger strike rebellions. A guard did not ask me to remove my underwear and that was just fine with me. The other one did not ask me to remove any of my cloths.at all. Others told me that they would not ask me to remove my underwear if they happen to be assigned to strip search me. They, also, expressed dissatisfaction with the desecration of the inmates’ possessions. Those are human beings that show respect for human dignity and prove the sadism of every other hysterical defender of the striptease rape of the state’s victims.

In contrast to the stupid sadist guards such as Hutchins, Lane, Slavosky, Goldie, Shrek Frankenstein, Dixon, and many others, some smart managers kept niceties for themselves to leave a better impression about their personalities when dealing with inmates and left nastiness to the pervert underdogs. My property was returned only by one of them, although, they are the ones who ordered the confiscation. A guard’s job in a jail had been the best opportunity to show the kindness or evilness of a human soul. The provincial government did not have strict standards like the ones implemented in Federal jails, as experienced prisoners reported. That left a considerable room for personal expression of the employed human beings’ characters, qualities, morals, and attitudes. In other words they were left free to show what kind of human beings they were, and they did very clearly. Many of those have enjoyed practicing their sadism and the resulted over inflation of their feel of personal worth. That was a job from heavens for them, in addition it paid very well, and they almost could never be fired.

During the sentence of a four-day complete isolation within the broader 15-day, also, full segregation, I was allowed a shower only once every second day by permission without underwear and with the only piece of cloths permitted, the orange slaves’ coverall. Toilet paper was once denied by another bold monster in the blue uniform. That man was capable of changing his behavior from completely nasty into completely nice within a moment depending on the persons he was dealing with. He treated prisoners who flattered him much better than the ones who despised him like me. My condition during the 4-day isolation with the 15-day segregation was filthy, unhygienic, and with a lot of spinal and shoulder bones’ pain because the lack of a pillow and I was freezing due to the lack of cloths. One of the guards joked with me saying that I was a terrorist and terrorizing the entire jail which gave me an idea about the effect of my defiance action. I kept complaining to the jail’s (acting) director about my unhygienic condition, which I thought was illegal. He responded that everything was according to the legal standards. I was denied the jail’s standard razor of the worst quality available in Canada during the four-day segregation within the 15-day isolation period. That precious shaver had to be returned after half an hour to the guards because the blade could be used to make weapons. The face of one of my future co-prisoners was cut with such a weapon without any consequences to the assaulter. His good looking face has been mutilated under the supervision of the Canadian Provincial Government of Alberta. In his place, I would sue the government for lack of protection. Every day without shaving, I looked wilder and thinner. On the 74th day of my sentence term, the four day complete segregation within the 15-day, also, complete isolation expired. On that day, I had lost 8 kilograms from my weight before the start of my second hunger strike and 13 kg from my weight before being forced to be a guest with the noble Lethbridge “Correctional” Center. The orange slaves’ uniform was replaced with another blue one. I was given the standard jail’s amenities such as two pieces of the used black underwear (briefs), two pairs of used black socks, two very much used white towels, and a set of used bedding. Mentioning the word “used” here does not mean that I expected brand new stuff, it is only the accuracy of the depiction of the jail’s environment for those lucky people who have never seen a jail from inside as convicts. The strange fireproof white sheets were taken away. Most important was receiving a toothbrush that had never lasted more than three days with my use and a small tube of toothpaste. My teeth were rotting for the previous eight days and that was a part of the democratic legal terror.

The battle was not over, but, I did not understand what was going on. My isolation and deprivation of my very few, but, precious belongings continued. The planned democratic legal torture was based on withdrawing every possible ability to exercise any activity even self-grooming– and cleaning, writing on paper, reading a book, etc. The creation of a complete vacuum in the life of any human being is very torturous, but, still legal and democratic. I think that that is valid for animals, too. In addition to my refusal to comply with the state sanctioned striptease rape, my hunger strike was the reason for the punishment with the 24-hour complete isolation. However, fasting was the sole element that helped me endure the 15-day period hunger strike (and more if I wanted). Fasting left no extra energy to create the need to fill my empty life with any activity except to spend the entire day lying on the bed thinking and praying. I knew I was fighting the mighty state’s power of terror and sadism. But, the state is only an abstract term that does not exist on its own. It only exists through the people who represent it. Humans made that illusive abstract body exist as they practiced their sadism against their victims. My torturers and terrorizers were the state itself, exactly, like the judge who sent me to jail. They were determined to defeat the powerless convicted criminal who has refused to admit any guilt, was smarter than most, if not all, of his man keepers, had a strong personality and will to stand for himself, and was anything but submissive to the state’s terror and sadism exercised by its dogs.

On the 8^th day of my hunger strike, I was trying to understand why I was kept under the total isolation. A guard lied saying that Unit 5 was a threat for me. I decided to continue my action until released from seclusion. The guards dealing with me and regulating my empty life were nothing but animals in human bodies, living machines, terminators with ugly faces and souls. One of them was a short guard in his early forties. He treated me as if I were his own dog. He pointed to me with his finger as if he was instructing his dog. After a few times of such behavior, I shouted at him in front of other guards and prisoners outside my cell number 13: “Don’t point to me like that, I am not your dog, otherwise you will keep getting shorter and shorter”. He did not respond and, probably, was shocked from my reaction. He was guarding me while other younger guards, probably in training, were searching my cell. That search happened every day. The guards kicked me out of my cell to conduct a security check. They searched my stuff. There was nothing except the bedding. I did not understand what they were looking for every day while I was under a complete segregation. I had no contact with anyone except the terminators. They were very annoying and, of course, that was the jail’s main, if not the only, purpose of the routine search. In contrast to the animals in human bodies, the environment of the general public of criminals, as they were described, seemed to me to be as paradise.

On the 9^th day of my isolation, not earlier and not later, I was allowed a jail’s slaughter razor. Using that razor had always been a bloody process. I shaved at last, but, did not understand why I was given the razor at that particular time. After shaving, I could see my face again and how thin it had become. On the same day, my wife let me know that the media was not interested anymore in my hunger strike nor anyone else.

http://www.country95.fm/news/news-detail.asp?ID=2333

The powerful state had won. I felt the disappointment, but, did my best to fight for my dignity and honor and that was a fight for the basic Canadian human rights at the same time. I knew the result of being incorruptible, losing most of the life battles. However, such struggles have always led to improving human lives and their qualities. On that same day, I was taken by a female guard (the same who deprived me from the too small orange coverall I used as a pillow) to the Property Department to retrieve my few belongings. That department was facing the administration office and area for the ease of confiscating prisoners’ properties and handing them the prison’s amenities including the slaves’ cloths and paper shoes. A man in his late fifties in civil cloths, probably the manager, ordered me to sign on a large card. I asked to see my stuff first. He got mad, and said that I was fucking around and that he was busy out there. I shouted back that a government employee should not use such an obscene language. All the present guards and new prisoners looked at me. The same man looked at me, too, surprised as inmates did not shout nor told government employees what not to say. Without signing and having my property returned to me, I was escorted back by a young male guard to my cell. I was removed immediately because the guards did not want to let the newcomers have the impression that shouting at the staff was the norm or an acceptable behavior. In contrast, guards were supposed to be treated as little gods on Earth. The fasting and isolation (psychological pressure) imposed upon me caused me to be nervous, and the jail’s authority knew that. I could not accept further provocations that, probably, I would without such pressures. Unit One guard blamed me for my behavior because, he said, he had to pull some strings to let me get my possessions back. Therefore, I missed the opportunity to have my property returned to me through my misbehavior.

On that (same) day, the (acting) director of the jail came to my cell to inform me that I would remain under the complete isolation as long as I kept refusing the striptease rape (search) and continued my hunger strike. After he had left, I was allowed to clean my cell and to have a shower. I used the last load of energy left in my frail body to perform those two jobs, which were extremely difficult to accomplish. After I had finished, I succeeded in dropping my exhausted body on the bed. My tongue was dry as a piece of leather. That was a result of the lack of water in my body that caused difficulty to talk. During the entire fasting period, my blood pressure remained steady within the normal range. However, with the advance of the hunger strike, my pulse rate went up, probably, to help maintaining the blood pressure stable.

On the 77^th day of my sentence term and the 10^th day of my rebellion, my belongings were returned upon orders from the Deputy Director (Programs). Although I had never had any direct contact with her, she seemed to be one of the very few intelligent jail’s employees, as other prisoner, who dealt with her, had reported. In other words, I think, she had a brain inside her skull, not mud. However, she, still, had been a man keeper and a part of the brutal state’s sadistic system. I lost ten days without taking notes about my life inside the Castle of Horrors. There was nothing to record the events on except a few permitted legal sheets that the living machines had not confiscated because they contained legal information from the jail to me such as charging and convicting me for violating the holy rules. I used those papers to take some notes; otherwise, I would have not been able to recall all the events of my punishment within the broader penalty (being in jail). With those notes, I started recovering my missing diaries that helped me write this story. On that same day, my weight loss reached 18 kilograms less that before being a guest with the Lethbridge “Correctional” Center. A few sips of cold water, although that was a betrayal to my determination, felt like a Heavenly fluid from Paradise.

As the deterioration of my condition advanced, I started thinking of death and leaving my family in God’s hands as they had always been. I thought that God, somehow, would end my fight in victory. During all that suffering, I thought about all kinds of food I liked and of course were not on the jail’s menu. I felt the blessings given to man, who takes them for granted without thankfulness. I have always been thankful, but, my current lesson had been practical. My fasting helped me understand how thirst worked. Lack of water in the digestive system caused it to dry and contract. Its temperature increased and felt solid. That caused the thirst feeling. Drinking would lubricate and cool it again. It would relax and soften until reaching an optimum condition. Then, the feeling of thirst would stop. Well, that was a worthy lesson. On the 12th day of my hunger strike my weight loss reached 20 kilograms compared with my weight before entering the prison. I lost 2 kg, mostly fluid, in one day. That caused my body to shake, to speak with great difficulty, and I could not sleep. As a result, I started drinking water as I needed which stabilized my condition. Later, one of Unit One guards told me that I smelt after acetone, probably during the last third of the fasting. That coincided with the bitter taste in my mouth, which must have been the results of the higher catabolism (degradation of body tissues such as fat, muscles, and bones) than anabolism (synthesis of tissues and replacement of used ones). In my case, more tissues were degraded to produce energy and amino acids for vital body functions. Under normal conditions, both natural processes go hand in hand in balance and produce byproducts that are excreted with the urine, sweat, and saliva. Under my long and complete fasting, the byproducts must have been excessive so that I tasted them in my mouth and people smelt the acetone odor around me. The mentioned guard said that, at that time, he was filling out legal forms in preparation of sending me to the hospital and that I caused him a lot of grief as my health deteriorated to such an extent. Other jail managers lied to me saying that the jail would never send me to the hospital and leave me die in my isolation. They meant that they were going to do their best to minimize the effects of my action.

One of the most stupid and provocative guard actions was their efforts to convince me that my religion did not, in fact, forbid nudity in front of strangers because many other prisoners of the same religion had never protested the striptease rape, formally. The legal and less stupid response of civil servants should have been that the laws of the country dictated that, which had been paramount to any cultural and religious concerns of individuals living in a secular state. I have to admit my disrespect to such ignorance in regard to a religion that includes over 1.5 billion members. Just the formal uniform let them feel that whatever they said must have been correct. Power is very corrupting. Guards, their ignorance, and sadism were a significant part of the democratic punishment. It was a corrupt discussion that led to nothing, but, I never wanted it. They imposed their intelligence upon me. I used to ask myself about the Third World corruption, whether it is as stupid as that of the Developed World. I have never found the answer.

On the 15^th day of my rebellion and the 82^nd day of sentence, after meeting the jail’s doctor and then the prison’s director, I was transferred to cell number 5 back in the Health Care Unit where I spent my first rebellion under the claim of monitoring my health. The door was made of thick plastic, I guess, that was completely transparent. Not only that, but, the cell included a camera. That meant that I was completely naked. Another way of the democratic terror was moving prisoners form one cell and one unit to another as if they were animals moved from one cage or one barn to another. The mentioned cell contained nothing but the standard bunk, sink, toilet, plastic mirror, and the nontransparent window. I put all my belongings on the edge between the bed and the wall.

On that same day at around 5:00 p.m., the (acting) jail’s director appeared and offered me to be exempt from the striptease rape as long as I was kept isolated from all other prisoners. I accepted his offer and agreed to end my hunger strike. The nurse Mike gave me two oranges and I ate them. They felt as coming directly from Heavens although the jail bought the worst and cheapest quality of food available in the market. The 13^th of April was the day on which I ended my hunger strike. That number kept accompanying the events of my life. My first meals were canned fruits as I requested from Mike to avoid digestive problems after 15 days of a complete shutdown of the digestion. That way, I did not suffer from any digestive problems such as the ones agonized me after my first hunger strike of 13 days.

As I was preparing myself to go to bed inside the glass cell number 5, two guards came to move me to another cell number 7 inside the Health Care Unit, in which I had spent my first hunger strike. There, I was permitted the privilege of having an extra moving table on which I enjoyed putting all my belongings. The director returned to confirm with me the agreement that had to be approved by his superiors in the capital city of Alberta, Edmonton. He offered that I contact him in person, if anything annoyed me.

After my first meal, my body became charged with energy again, and I turned into a different condition. I felt the emptiness imposed upon me right away. I was living in a vacuum. My mental condition deteriorated quickly, and I came close to a nervous breakdown. I asked to see the director as he offered and promised, but, he refused and wrote that I had to stay in the cell till the following Friday when the jail’s doctor could see me and decide whether I could leave the Health Care Unit. That was two and a half days later. I was about to suffer from a nervous breakdown. The 24-hour isolation continued. There was nothing to do except to lie on the bed. When supper was offered, I refused it. Two guards, one of whom was Lane, came later, confiscated all my belongings again, gave me the orange coverall once more, and returned me to the glass cell number 5 with the internal camera. I used to call that behavior the democratic terror. I spent that night inside the see-through cell and tried to urinate with my back facing the transparent door and the camera. Right now is the right time to mention that prisoners suspected of consuming drugs (although 75% of them did in fact whether the Government liked it or not) had to urinate in front of the guards to give a sample for analysis, if the jail decided to test anyone. I do not understand what part of human dignity had been spared in a country that brags that it is a leader among nations of the World in the field of respect of human rights. Does the Canadian Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms apply to Canadians in jails, or, are they exempt from being subjected to the Canadian Constitution? The level of respect of human rights is measured at the bottom of a society, not, at the level of the Untouchables. The Untouchables are people, who are above the law, officially do not exist, practically; they are a reality of life. On the next morning in the transparent cell, which was the 16^th day of my uprising and the 82^nd of my sentence term, the director returned after breakfast that I had already refused. He asked whether we had had an agreement. I said yes, nevertheless, part of it was “to contact you if I needed and you refused to meet with me”. I explained to him that my isolation without the hunger strike was different and would lead to a nervous breakdown. Our talk did not lead to any resolution. The intelligent and knowledgeable, but of course not innocent DDO, who had been the only negotiator during my first hunger strike, appeared in the picture again to return my possessions. Niceties came always from smart managers, but, harassment had always been caused by the underdogs who were taking orders from their bosses who showed niceties when dealing with the convicts. He said that I had overestimated the reaction of the outside world to my action and he was right. No one cared about me. I became tired and defeated. I decided to give up and to accept the state’s rape every time it was requested. I submitted to the humiliation dictated by the terror and sadism of the democratic Canadian Government and its agents. I had to be subjected to the striptease rape right away before returning to the general public of criminals. The same DDO was present during scrutinizing the center of my bum and the rotation of my genitals to make sure that there was nothing hanging in between. He asked me afterwards whether that was so bad; I said yes it was humiliation and violation of my religion. I did not tell him that I said to myself “God curse all of you”.

People outside jails think they do not belong to such classes (the criminals) and do not expect themselves to suffer from such treatment that they think had been deserved by prisoners as long as they do not imagine themselves to ever be subjected to such a degrading condition. They do not think that the dignity of the society as a whole is to be measured at the level of the least of its members. I wish all those people to have the same experience like me, just or unjust, and then cry, but, on one would care about them.

LIFE AFTER SUBMISSION TO THE DEMOCRATIC

SADISM

After my striptease performance, I was allowed to dress the regular submissive slaves’ blue coverall and returned to Unit 5. There, I was sent to the single bed cell number 6 that was occupied by a young local man who recognized me and my name as he and friends had used my taxi service previously. However, I did not remember him. I slept that night on my thin khaki mattress on the floor and enjoyed the terrible toilet odor. In the next morning, before breakfast at 7:00 a.m., my roommate was released. I took his bunk and was glad to see Wes and Johnny again. Their kindness let me feel the brutality of the state and its dogs. Johnny gave my coffee and sugar to have the first taste of coffee after 16 days. He was in the worst shape a human being could suffer. His personal life had been destroyed exactly like mine. He kept pacing alone in the corridors of Unit 5 mourning his losses and disappointments and broke my heart, but, there was nothing I could do except observing him.

In the next morning, I was sitting in the main hall reading a book. Someone approached me with his right hand stretched to shake my hand. That was Red Crow after breaching his probation conditions again. He asked to be sent to my cell, which was a single bunk, and occupied the floor. His lawyer, Steven Virk, a lawyer from Calgary, fought for him and succeeded in having him sentenced for 14 days jail time only rather than 6 months that were expected and wanted by the prosecution and his probation officer as a result of his third breach. Red Crow explained that his lawyer did not take no for an answer, stood his ground, knew and used similar cases from the past with light sentences, and was insistent and persistent. He charged a $1,000 for the mentioned outstanding performance. That story reminded me with my local lawyer, Art Larson, who for some reason sold me out, although paid $20,000. Well, the only conclusion must be never hire a lawyer from the local corrupt legal mafia, if you find yourself in such a situation. Otherwise, you will repeat my experience. An outsider is most probably not involved in what is called the secret local politics of the local ruling mafia.

Fellow inmates noticed how thin I became. Sleeping was very exhausting. I kept gaining weight gradually. After three days in my cell, Red Crow departed, suddenly, as he appeared from nowhere. Afterwards, I enjoyed being alone in my cell for a few days.

On the 91^st day of my sentence, a new roommate was sent to my cell number 6. John van Sluys of a Dutch ancestry had been recently undergone a quadruple heart bypass surgery and was diabetic among other health problems. He had been the same victim who got almost killed by the prison’s ignorance, stupidity, and impotency. After 5 days, I succeeded in helping him to move into the single bunk cell number 5 that faced my room. The most important thing for him was the ability to sleep on a bed instead of the floor. His cell was unique as its window’s glass was not covered with anything to make it nontransparent. This meant that he could see the outside World such as the blue sky, rain, farms, roads, and trees. Not only the window was transparent, but also, the cold ceramic toilet had a plastic seat and a cover in contrast to almost all the jail’s cells. Another cell among the 36 cells of the entire unit had the same features. That was cell number 23 on the upper floor, exactly above van sluys’ cell. I could never uncover the reason for such a luxury of both rooms. John van Sluys moved into his new cell and did not only enjoy sleeping in his own bed with two mattresses, but also, liked watching the outside World through his window in addition to the comfortable and warm touch of his toilet cover/seat.

35-year-old Prince from Nigeria was my next roommate. All those newcomers had to sleep on a mattress on the floor. It was difficult to clean the room and to move around. This was why I wanted to move with Johnny in his new cell number 15. He chose that room instead of our older cell number “13” because he thought it was quieter. It was the last one in the row with only one direct neighboring cell. Having a newcomer every a few days was exhausting as I helped them to know their new environment and the rules even when they had been frequent visitors of Canadian jails. I did not want to continue performing such a job.

On the 102^nd day of my sentence, I was shaving in front of the plastic mirror in my cell number 6 before 9:00 a.m. with only my pants as I have always used to shave. Suddenly, the door was opened, of course, without knocking and one of the guards I hated (for accuracy despised) most entered. That was the bold man in the blue uniform, who refused to give me toilet paper during my hunger strike isolation in the double segregated section within Unit One. That was not the only reason for detesting him, but, for his changing personality like a chameleon. He was extremely mean when talking, of course to some inmates including myself. In a moment, when talking to a female nurse, he changed into a very soft and nice person. He ordered me to leave the room for a security search. Usually, they did that while prisoners were present. I left and stood outside the cell waiting for his Excellency to finish. He left the room saying how I protested against the strip search while I was standing half naked in the middle of the corridor. Well, that man seem to have enjoyed being stupid and thought that there was no accountability for idiocy. There is no culture in the entire World that is sensitive to nudity of the males’ upper body parts. I protested for the nudity of my genitals that are considered privates in every human culture. I have to admit feeling sorry for such a level of stupidity that could not qualify someone to occupy such a civil servant position. He was around 50 years old with a low ranking position meaning that he, most probably, had only a high school diploma as a qualification of being a governmental beast. One thing left to mention about him. He is a lucky man because I missed his name to be immortalized among the records of human history. Well, if I get it one day, have not doubt, I will included just right here so that next time you know for sure that not only God, whose judgment you certainly do not care about, but the camera of mankind’ history records is watching your stupidity. In that case, you will behave in a different way. Remember, opennes versus corruption?

On the 104^th day of my sentence and the 21^st day after the end of my second hunger strike, Johnny’s roommate was evicted from cell number 15 and sent to the “hole” one day before his official release. That was his punishment for reporting sick as he was a kitchen worker. He did not care about the penalty because he needed the time to think about his life outside the jail and draw plans for his future. Well, he was a human being like you, me, the man keepers who enslaved him, and the judge who sent him to jail, too. In jail, you cannot report sick like the guards themselves, when they need a few days more for camping or a visit outside the province. I moved with my friend Johnny and occupied the upper bunk for the first time. For some reason I had never been ordered to work anywhere in the jail. That was luck for someone like me and spent most my time reading. I did not want to work for free for the corrupt Government that put me wrongfully in jail and destroyed every element of my life and my family’s life. Two days later, Johnny decided to take my upper bunk and to give me his lower bed, although, I had never complained. The reason might have been that I was not athletic enough while climbing my way up.

A VISIT TO THE DRUNKS’ TANK

In the afternoon of the 111^th day of my sentence term, I was ordered to go to the administration in my blue slaves’ uniform–most inmates dressed their extra purchased more comfortable and normal looking sporty gray outfits–and the paper shoes. Many convicts left their very expensive gray clothes (one set of pants, one sweat shirt, and two T-shirts for $70.00) to other less fortunate ones as gifts or donations, before they were released. The same clothes could be resold or traded among prisoners several times. The only currency available inside Canadian jails is tobacco, drugs, or canteen items that could be traded among the state’s victims. I had no idea why I was called to the administration. There, I was locked in the large cell number 11 with huge windows from three sides. It was between the administration office, the hall in front of it, and the jail’s garage, where detained people were delivered and the jail’s prisoners’ transportation vans were parked. That room was very famous within the entire city and called the “Drunks’ Tank”. Here, drunks collected from the city streets mostly during the night hours, especially during the weekends and holidays, were locked in until they sobered up usually in the next morning. Meanwhile, the drunks lay on the floor or the wall concrete benches, threw up, or urinated in their pants. That was what I knew about the Drunks’ Tank and the reason for me not to sit down during my entire waiting of around half an hour until two guards showed up and told me where I was going. I had an appointment to see a specialist in the hospital, but, prisoners did not know about such outside arrangements for security reasons.

A TRIP TO THE HOSPITAL WITH SHACKLES IN

THE HANDS AND LEGS

The two guards put handcuffs around my wrists and shackles around my ankles. I could walk only in very short steps. That was the first time I was going to see the outside World after 111 days of my imprisonment. The guards let me get into the jail’s van with the double containers, one inside the other. The inner one was made, probably, from steel or may be aluminum with very small holes. The two guards sat in the front comfortable seats and drove to the hospital while I was struggling to keep my balance and not to fly inside the empty box. That day was a few days before spring would explode in green and flowers. When we arrived at the hospital, I walked like a slave in the slaves’ uniform and shackles in the very short steps just to allow every non-criminal individual to enjoy watching something very exciting, a convict in chains. A guard was present while the doctor was interviewing me and listening to all my private health problems, although, it had been claimed that Canada has laws for privacy that do not allow any uninvolved person or organization to know any personal information. Probably, the Privacy Act does not cover convicts who are below the radar of the Canadian Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms.

THE BANANA PAROLE BOARD OF CANADA

On the 8^th day of my sentence, I applied for parole without having any idea about that thing. My case worker, Monica Duske (the wife of the intelligent prison’s manager and the mother of a young female guard, too) did not provide any useful advice in that regard. She, also, did not like me announcing my innocence as she wrote in a report about me, later. She believed I was a criminal who deserved the punishment I had already received, irresponsible, and short tempered because of my first hunger strike rebellion, although she recognized the futility of the strip search procedure, in private. Her entire family had been specializing in the business of man keeping. My application led to a lot of waste of time and hassle. The Parole Board of Canada is a part of the Canadian legal system that would never admit that that system does any mistakes because governments do not make any mistakes (forget the DNA tests that have proven the innocence of hundreds of North American murder convicts)!

I based my application on my claim that my conviction was wrongful on the ground of the misconduct of the defense lawyer who had provided, practically, no defense. Instead of rejecting my application on the basis of my conviction by a court of law, the parole officer, Melanie MacDonald, started a new trial and played the role of the investigator, (expert in the fields of human psychology, psychiatry, sociology, law, criminal justice, “correctional” law, man keeping, and forensic evidence), prosecutor, and judge. She produced much more convictions that the qualified courts have never delivered. She fabricated events and crimes that I had never committed nor heard of. She falsified information and facts to produce the conclusion that I was a criminal with criminal personality and history of criminality. She dealt with matters that can only be dealt with by experts; and she was not. She ignored every documentation of my claim of innocence such as the trial’s transcript recording my lawyer’s misconduct and his deficient and empty defense. She had never reviewed such a document and manipulated my statement that I wanted to be acquitted in return for the $20,000 I paid the lawyer instead of my clear demand of a proper, professional, and a strong defense in return for my money. In addition to her dishonesty, bias, and under-qualification, or no qualification, her comprehension of the case was superficial and extremely limited. She manipulated and falsified facts and events and speculated to produce a customized report supporting the predetermined rejection of my application and to compensate for the lack of proper education. Her report, unjustly, stained almost every element of my personality and character as a criminal. She considered self-defense unlawful, although, it is legal according to the Canadian law. She, also, completely ignored the proven fact of the extreme level of intoxication and impairment of the alleged victims implicating that alcohol and drug abuse in public was legal and acceptable socially. She excluded entirely the possibility that their impairment did in fact lead to their aggression and assaulting a sober taxi driver while working. She concluded that I needed intervention to change my values, attitudes, principles, way of thinking, and my claim of being innocent. With such mental a terror, the Canadian Government seems to conduct business in the same way Banana Republics do.

In response to her 12-page report, I had no choice but to reply, not to affect the approval of my parole application, but, to provide facts and a defense against the unqualified and undereducated clerk. My letter discussed every element within her report. The final letter from the Banana Parole Board of Canada that I received on the 113^th day of my sentence, denying me parole, ignored every single word of my 36-page letter. It was similar to Middle Ages European executions. Once a victim had been accused, that was his or her death sentence.

No doubt that the mentioned parole officer did an excellent job for the Banana Canadian Government as she was expected. I would suggest saving all her and my agony by basing her reports on the outcome of a Canadian court without playing the expert’s role that she did not qualify for. That final experience with the Banana Parole Board of Canada had turned my consideration of emigrating out of Canada to become a final decision. I can not trust that country anymore. It has not been any different than any Banana Republic except that the Canadian human rights violations are less in extent and severity, but, principally the same.

JOHNNY’S SMASHED HAND

Johnny had been my roommate for 66 days when he received some legal documents on the 120^th day of my sentence that caused him to get very angry. It was 5:00 p.m. when he climbed with the papers to sit on his upper bunk in silence. He did not want to talk to me and I left him alone. He became angrier, climbed down, and started pacing in the very small space between the steel door, toilet, and the corner of the two bunks. That area was not enough to complete two steps. His face looked pale and different. I asked him to calm down several times, but suddenly, he punched the steel door with his right hand. I held my head with my both hands saying “oh my God”. His hand did not look the same. I told him that he needed to go to the hospital. He called the guard on the intercom and said that he broke his hand and needed to go to the hospital. The guard let him out. Later, I learned that he fainted outside, and Josh held him, before the guards took him to the hospital. Josh was a nice big young inmate. Six of his hand bones were broken. The document was a request from the mother of his daughter to the local court asking to have him prohibited from seeing his 11-month old child for two years. She had to justify her application with all sorts of lies and wanted to deprive him from the only thing left for him in life. The jail’s manager knew the content of the letter because he read it, but, sent it to Johnny and, then, sent him alone to be locked up inside his cell. An intelligent action would have been giving him the documents and letting him read them among guards to protect him from such (expected) reaction. Johnny could not imagine the deprivation of his only daughter in addition to the false accusations against him. After returning from the hospital, he was kept in cell number 8 in the double isolated area within the Health Care Unit, where I spent my first hunger strike and a few days of my second one. He needed a surgery (or more) after receiving 7 different antibiotics to help healing his infected hand.

On the next day, the jail, surprisingly, invited me to visit him to help writing a formal response to the court. I had never experienced any visits among prisoners inside the Castle of Terror and Horrors. Johnny’s hand would never return its original condition. He could not wait for me on the next day to finish the letter and rewrote it completely with his broken hand. The judge denied the mother’s request, obliged her to bring the daughter to visit her father 6 times a month, and was very impressed that Johnny wrote the entire letter with his smashed hand.

On the 141^st day of my sentence, someone was knocking on the glass window of the cell’s door. That was Johnny. He said that he returned to the unit after 21 days of the almost 24-hour isolation in the Health Care Unit and showed me his hand with two pins sticking outside the flesh and inside a blue plastic cast. The smart guards put him in a single bunk cell with another roommate who was occupying the only bed in cell number 28. Johnny slept on his mattress on the floor where his roommate stepped accidently on his broken hand during the night. His hand needed to be reexamined and re-fixed in addition to the extra pain. In between, many prisoners were caught consuming drugs and landed in the holes of Unit 2. Four days later, Johnny returned to my cell number 15 and occupied the lower bunk. Later, he tried to send me down and take the upper one as his hand started to heal, but, I refused. His hand improved slowly and he kept using it as advised by his doctor.

SHACKLES AROUND THE WRISTS AND ANKLES

IN THE HOSPITAL BED

At 9:00 a.m. on the 125^th day of my sentence, I was ordered to go to the administration in my blue salves’ uniform and the paper shoes. There, I was locked in inside the Drunks’ Tank again until two guards came and put handcuffs around my wrists and shackles around my ankles. It was time for a medical procedure in the hospital to examine the inside of my abdomen microscopically. One of the guards was one of the 4 supervisors of the prison’s 8 units. After the slaves’ trip with the chains to the hospital, the guards left me with both shackles on the hospital’s bed so that I was almost paralyzed while the specialist was inserting his tools inside my body and conducting the examination. Both guards were present and watching the most private proceeding while I was thinking about the Canadian Privacy Act that did not apply to Canadian slaves. With the shackles, I was unable to put my underwear on, after the end of the examination, and needed the nurse’s help–I hope that you are enjoying the depiction of all my sexual adventures imposed by the democratic Government of Canada. After the nurse helped me dressing my underwear, I had to urinate while one of the guards was watching me. It took very long time for me to finish that business because I am not used that someone watches me during such private activities. I was still thinking about the civility of Canada and its Privacy Act that did not apply to me in the depth of the toilet room, either.

STRIPTEASE, BOILING SHOWERS’ WATER, AND

SEX IN CANADIAN JAILS

My fourth striptease performance was secretly scheduled on the 118^th day of my captivity with all other fellow prisoners of Unit 5. The guards insisted on enjoying the view of the center of my bum. I had to give them my back and then bend forward to allow them to appreciate that sight. Further, they did not let go without instructing me to hold my genitals and then rotate them to satisfy theirs’ and their employer’s sadism. The next rape was repeated 38 days later on the 156^th day of my incarceration. That was accompanied by the usual savage cell and unit search. The Lethbridge “Correctional” Center’s slaves reorganized everything after the barbaric assault. As always, the guards had not found a single illegal item to confiscate because everything, mostly drugs, were professionally stuffed inside the prisoners’ rectums.

One week later, on the 163^rd day of my incarceration, I experienced the sixth striptease rape and barbaric cell and unit search again. The smart jail’s authority wanted to surprise the prison’s inmates with unexpected chase to catch them unprepared in attempt to find anything illegal. Those inspections were conducted usually once a month. The trick included changing the expected standard time of the search from after 5:00 p.m. to 9:00 a.m. Despite the genius of the jails’ generals, not a single prohibited item could be found or confiscated. Some inmates started to question the sexual orientation of the jail’s managers and guards, were they gays? Are the law makers sexually disturbed, also? Questioning is still legal, I believe! Fact is that criminals had been smarter than the state and its dogs. Another fact is, also, that the Canadian state’s dream of reforming its criminal victims is impossible and just a deceptive propaganda.

Not only the state’s and its agents’ sadism was smashing my soul, but, my body was, as well, cooking under the (almost) boiling showers’ water, despite the many complaints that were being filed for weeks. I started to record the boiling water in my diaries on the 168^th day of my incarceration. The water thermostat was not working so that the water’s temperature was unsteady and most of the times extremely hot. I had never been surprised from the fact that the heating system was never intended to be repaired because I understood the sick mind setting of the jail’s employees, especially, the maintenance technicians. Anything that was considered as a tool of comfort for prisoners was ignored indefinitely. Convicts were in jail for punishment and everything had to be annoying and distressing. In contrast, anything related to security was dealt with immediately. That philosophy would never fit the dream of reforming convicts, but, with revenge and hate. Another factor had been the nature of Canadian governmental jobs that could only be described as Communist. Keeping a job with the Canadian Government does not depend on performance standards, but, it is a right for life disregarding to any level of achievement. A government employee does not fear for his or her employment and that would be the driving force to keep a minimum standard of performance. Add to that the fact that jail employees are serving convicts who lost (all) their human rights. Torturing them becomes a justified attitude. The nature of governmental jobs forced the brains of the mentioned government employees to become lazy and stupid. All pressures applied on the convicts constituted security risks that could escalate and cause great damages to victims (prisoners) and torturers (jail employees), such as violence towards inmates and guards. In addition to the boiling water, one of the four showers in Unit 5 had never been repaired during my sentence time of 303 days. It was working but with a lower water pressure. That was the reason for prisoners to avoid using it, and the total showers’ capacity had been reduced from 4 to 3. Competition among convicts for the reduced number of available showers increased and caused significant frictions. The jail’s authority did not understand nor cared about the increased number of assaults among its criminals’ population. It was stupid and impotent. There were, also, very little tools available to control the employees and their performance because they could not be fired or even threatened to be terminated, especially, for bad service provided to criminals. I hated the maintenance technicians mostly after guards because of their savage attitude. Further, whenever they came to repair anything in the unit, we had to be locked up immediately, even if we were under the showers. A savage female guard cut the water once while I was under the shower because the maintenance technicians appeared for some repairs. Respectful guards let prisoners finish their showers. I told you, a jail’s guard is the best place for sick and barbarian human creatures to satisfy their sadist needs. In addition, sexually abnormal ones enjoy lots of legal nudity and excitement. Several times, I wrote very harsh messages to the jail’s director in regard to the boiling water that caused me lots of agony; nevertheless, I changed my mind and destroyed them understanding the vanity of men in power. I was exhausted from the jail, humiliation, physical and emotional suffering, and the life threatening condition of being in jail. No doubt, my harsh complaint would have irritated the arrogance of many jail’s employees including the sick Goldie and caused me more harassment. I changed my plans and decided to put all that experience in this story I am writing to the general public of humanity. Openness is very embarrassing for corruption. Corrupt humans hate exposure. I kept cooking under the showers’ water with my fellow convicts. The showers did not have two separate taps for cold and hot water to be mixed for a comfortable level to suit different individual preferences. The water came at the temperature that the technicians chose or the broken heating system provided. I do not understand what is wrong with having separate cold and hot water to be mixed by individuals as they need. The boiling water kept coming and convicts kept complaining to the deaf jail.

On the 189th day of my enslavement term with Canadian Government of Alberta, the boiling showers’ water caused my heartbeats to become irregular and the heart pulse to increase and to be felt like banging. I became pale and felt exhausted. Circles appeared under my eyes that were not there earlier. Johnny had an appointment with one of the jail’s managers in the next morning and told her about the boiling showers’ water. She dispatched technicians on the next day to inspect them. No repairs had ever been performed until I was removed from the mentioned unit. That had never surprised me because nothing could be done with employees who could not be fired, especially, for bad service to convicts.

The guards (striptease) raped me and shattered my cell for the 7th time on the 161st day of my sentence. No smuggled items had ever been found. On that same day, we were told that in one of Alberta’s jails, a male guard was caught having sex with a female prisoner. That was the reason for the provincial government immediate decision to have only female guards tend to female inmates. All female guards in our unit had been withdrawn to serve in the female unit number 4. We lost two of the nicest guards. One of them was the humane Amanda McMurran with a kind soul and a much better performance than most guards, although she did not brag at all about herself and was a quiet person. She was the beast Slavosky’s partner and could do little about his savagery, but, the difference in the level of civility could not be missed among the two guards. She was the only guard during the summer, when inmates were allowed an hour in the jail’s outside yard, to stand in the middle of the open field and observe the entire population of prisoners. That made it impossible for any smuggling from the outside World that was common. People from outside threw packaged drugs over the fences to be found by convicts to sell them inside the jail. All other guards, such as Slavosky, sat down for a chat at the expense of the taxpayers while the smuggling process was occurring behind their backs. They looked very stupid, but, they did not know that. No one cared because no one could lose his or her job. Only Amanda McMurry was a lioness with a rare level of civility and humanity among the governmental monsters.

The second female guard, we lost to Unit 4, was the smiley Magloclen. Her partner was one of the very rare kind male guards, Brad Moser. He had, also, been smiling almost all the time. The shift of the smiley male/female guards was one of the most pleasant shifts I had experienced. Inmates lined up waiting to chat with Mrs. Magloclen. Their sensors captured her kind attitude toward them. She thought, correctly, that many free people including government employees should be in jail for crimes they were not caught doing. I believe that she had been one of the guards least at risk of the criminal environment she was immersed in because of the affection inmates had had for her. She went on her routine inspection tours joking with everybody, and everyone tried to provide her with any help they could offer. I spent lots of time talking with her. When she told me that she had to leave the unit, I thanked her for her compassion and providing us with one of the most and rare pleasant shifts. I shook her hand, and guess what, I kissed it. When she returned again to collect some of her items while we were having one of the miserable meals, I went to the office to help and carried a small drawer for her. That was a behavior I would never show another monster guard. The quality of our jail lives had deteriorated considerably after the removal of both ladies.

NO STRIPTEASE BUT MR. DOG

The sadist striptease rape and barbaric units’ searches had always been futile. Despite that governmental sterility, the jail was saturated with drugs during my jail sentence, and before and after, I guess. To understand the game it is important to know the reasons for smugglers to take the (small) risk of smuggling drugs (mainly) into jails. The price of drugs inside the jail is five folds of that on the streets in return to the risk taken by the smugglers. One gram of weed (marijuana) is sold for $50 in jails versus only $10 outside on the streets. Selling 100 grams earns a trafficker $5,000 under the nose of the government and its agents. Smugglers, drug dealers, and drug consumers, all of them, need to hide the drugs from the guards. The safest place has always been the inmates’ rectums where the Canadian Governments and their agents have not succeeded to invade, yet. 75% of all inmates consumed drugs according to a high ranking and expert jail’s officer, which made it impossible to take any significant actions such as mass urine tests and mass disciplinary actions as the government’s resources are much limited than accommodating 75% of its jail guests inside maximum security cells. Even if that would be possible, only in theory, drugs’ smuggling and consumption would not be stopped nor reduced. The Provincial Government of Alberta had tried very hard to outsmart, very unsuccessfully, its slaves in the jails using its single lovely yellow Labrador sniff dog. He had been very busy traveling between all the provincial jails investigating that matter. On the 174^th day of my sentence, that dog was invited to investigate the Lethbridge “Correctional” Center. The dog entered and sniffed each cell inside my unit and then the genitals of every prisoner in person as all the unit’s inmates lined up in the corridors to allow Mr. Dog to investigate their privates. The master dog stopped in front of only a single inmate among the 70 convicts. That was a surprise for me, just one? The smart guards left that person alone in his room so that he got rid of his load and flushed it in the toilet. The evidence was gone, and the punishment, too. I was really ignorant and naïve to believe that just one person had drugs on him. Later, a professional drug dealer and smuggler told me that almost everyone had been stuffed with drugs and that the captured person was unprofessional in his performance as he left traced of the drugs outside his body. That means that he did not clean himself well enough after inserting the drugs inside his rectum. That was the reason that the dog caught him, but, could not smell anything at all at the other professional inmates who washed themselves properly after the insertion of the drugs. Even the sniff dog could not find the drugs; nevertheless, the Government and its agents were continuing performing the mass striptease rapes. That can only be described as a massive democratic sadism. The same dog returned to the same prison later on my 277th day of enslavement. At that time, I was a resident of the famous Unit One. There, he did not catch anything, although, the inmates of that unit had been the main source of smuggling into the jail.I was astonished to realize that Mr. Dog had equally been unable, like his human colleagues, to find and catch the hidden drugs. Do not be surprised from the formality of the title “Mr.” before the dog’s name that had been a state’s secret. Those are the governmental rules; all government employees are addressed with respect inserting a proper title before their family names in contrast to criminals who are deprived of any respect and any titles in front of their names. Disrespect is a part of the democratic penalty for committing crimes. Therefore, I could not equate a hardworking, lovely, honest, and respected dog official employed by the honorable Government of the Canadian Province of Alberta with the lower class of convicted criminals.

CRIMES IN UNIT FIVE

The association of number 13 with the events of my life continued. The 13^th of August 2010 was Johnny’s birthday and, also, the day on which he was transferred to the privileged and famous Unit 1. He fought hard for that goal. An inmate had to qualify for such a favor. An important qualification had been the reclassification from the medium level of security, which was assigned to almost every convict, to the minimum security category. That day was the 204^th of my sentence. By that time, I knew and witnessed most of the illegal activities that were happening around me. In Unit 5, there were no gangs such as the ones that were present in Units 6 and 7 which were dangerous. Remember that I lasted only 5 days in Unit 6 because of the threat one of those gangs posed to my safety. In contrast, real harmful fights were seldom in Unit 5. Illegalities were mostly trafficking and consumption of illegal drugs and tobacco that, also, was prohibited. Around 75% of all unit and jail’s prisoners were involved. Drugs could be tested and found in urine, but, the jail’s authority did not want to conduct such massive tests because it did not have enough “hole” cells in the maximum security Unit as a punishment for that enormous number of suspects, who were not going to quit their habits anyhow. Confiscation of drugs could not happen because they were hidden in the inmates’ biological safe hides were the Canadian Governments, their laws, and agents could not invade, but, continued implementing the striptease rapes of their jail slaves with the certain knowledge that such a measure will never stop the trafficking and consumption of illegal drugs inside the Canadian jails.

I was trusted by and posed no threat to everyone involved in the sale and consumption the mentioned drugs although I had never participated in any illegality not because my respect of the state and its agents, but, for the reason that my way of life was completely different. I could not allow anything to impair my mind nor would I waste any precious moment of my (remaining) life in the illusive desire to feel happy (have fun), a disease of the spoiled Western Democracies. As a result, I never smoke, drink (alcohol), and use any kind of non-medical drugs. Some inmates tried to change that but failed. Others tried to get me sell for them, but, were unsuccessful, too. They had only confirmed my conviction that all those habits should not be there at all and having, instead, more serious lives.

I had never considered betraying the people I shared my life with and who had never harmed me in contrast to the devastation of every element of my life caused by the mighty opponents (the Canadian federal and provincial governments and their mercenaries). Yes, the use and trafficking of illegal drugs are very harmful to the society, but, a solution had not been my job nor responsibility. In addition, the safety of my family and myself was paramount than helping the corrupt Canadian regime solving its problems. Further, most involved people were not totally (or may be completely) responsible for their actions, but, the society carried the main responsibility without any accountability. Parents who dumped their children on the streets at age of 12 or 14 had never been held accountable for the crimes their kids commit. There are thousands or more of societal crimes like that, but, only their victims are held responsible. Democracy is very proud of that social element and calls it freedom (our freedom and the Free World). It is trying very hard to export that sick value (irresponsible unaccountable freedom) to all nations of the Earth based on the modern material success of the Western Democracies.

It is not expected that a dumped child educated on the streets plays a constructive role. A deeper study of the conditions of those parents, who dumped their own kids on the streets, would show in most cases that the conditions of their own upbringing provided by their parents and the broader democratic society had, also, not provided them with a proper education (and habits) to be able to give their children a better guidance. But, why should you have children at all, if you are not ready for and able to raise them properly? That is the unaccountable freedoms of the modern democracy. In the mentioned societies, people buy homes, cars, food, and, in the same way, ups produce kids. In many cases kids are just mistakes. Roots of crimes are much deeper in the society far beyond the responsibilities and abilities of most convicts.

Knowing and witnessing almost every illegality in the unit made me feel complicit and uncomfortable, but, that exactly was the jail’s function, making every prisoner feel anguished. I always wondered how convicts are expected to learn better habits while immersed in an infested environment with crime. That can only be described as impotency, laziness, and corruption of the collective governmental democratic brain. By now, you must have noticed that I, in fact, do not like democracy. Well, you are absolutely correct. It is not what it claims to be, but, a very sophisticated inescapable deception that has enslaved people of the World, people who have it and those who do not, but, wish to enjoy it. That is the reason why I landed in jail. Democracy is similar to Stalinism and Maoism, etc., it does not like its opponents and destroys them. Do you not wonder the continuous war condition the World is suffering from since the end of the World War II and since the inception of the noble democracy? Democracy blamed Germany, Hitler, Japanese, Communism, Socialism, Stalinism, Maoism, Vietnamese, Fidel Castro, Guevara, South American nations, Arabs, Palestinians, Mosslems, Persians, North Koreans, Fundamentalists, Extremists, and the illusive Middle East Terrorists for all the death and destruction it has caused to mankind; and you believe that.

The only way to solve my inconvenience in Unit 5 was to move to another place within the Castle of Horrors and Terror. Moving to another equal or parallel unit had always been a cause of suspicion to all convicts. The ones accused of being rats (informers) were transferred that way as a first step to protect them. That worked sometimes for minor breaches against the criminals’ code of conduct. Another safer solution was to apply for a transfer to the privileged Unit One as I had approached half the term of my sentence of 15 months and that would qualify a dangerous criminal like me to be reclassified as a minimum security offender. In that case, my transfer to the mentioned unit would seem normal and expectable.

LIFE IN THE JAIL’S HOTEL

GENDER INFLUENCE ON GUARDS’ BEHAVIOR

AND ATTITUDES

After upgrading me to the minimum level of security, I was moved to the prominent Unit One on the 218^th day of my sentence term. That meant that I became less dangerous than earlier. My past two hunger strike rebellions and the agony they caused to jail’s management did not seem to have affected the decision to upgrade my security level and transfer negatively. Anyhow, those professional man keepers new very well from their observations and the tools available to them that I had never been involved in any illegality in contrast to many, if not most, prisoners.

One of the seldom kindest guards, Brad Moser, woke me up at around 8:00 a.m. and informed me that I was leaving to Unit 1. He had been working as a man keeper for 23 years and was always smiling when he was not mad at some inmate or inmates who were trying to get away with some unlawful activities. I called him the Smiley Guard. His female partner was the same, before she was transferred to the females’ unit. Their shift had been one of the rarest pleasant ones. They were humane, respectful, and free of the general sadist character of most jail’s employees. Mr. Moser had never said no to me for any request and tried his best to satisfy my (legal) needs. That was in contrast to most guards who wished to be left in peace playing computer games, solving newspaper’s puzzles, or chatting with others. He went the extra mile trying to help. I made sure to let him know what I thought about him because I detested and despised all man keepers in general and they knew that very well. It was a relief to be allowed to leave Unit 5 and its crime world.

As I arrived at the outside door of Unit 1, Johnny was ahead of me and had noticed that I was moving into the same unit. He was carrying a bucket in his hand with cleaning supplies and tools. In contrast to me, he liked to work for the jail (unpaid) because that allowed him to leave the unit and be free during the fixed lock up periods for all other inmates and to move around inside the prison and meet more people. That helped his imprisonment time to pass faster. I had a different concern which was trying to use that brutal time to achieve the maximum possible value of every moment of my life within the limits imposed. During the first 173 days of my sentence, excluding a month of my two hunger strikes, I read books, although old, in history, business, economy, and politics. Then, I started writing my story about the Canadian Banana Legal System, its agents, and the humiliating experience imposed on every victim inside the Lethbridge Castle of Horrors and Terror, misleadingly called Lethbridge “Correctional Center”. After I finished the first draft of the mentioned story, I wrote an article and named it “Human Dogs: The Social Pyramid Structure of Power and Mercenaryness” with the intention to publish both on my internet website after my release. Johnny was smiling and accompanied me to the female caseworker (Weir) in the smaller office of Unit 1. The office was smaller because the maximum capacity of that unit was 30 versus 72 inmates of the larger units on the upper jail’s floor number 4 to 8. Later, he told me that I seemed nervous or too serious. It was unfamiliar grounds for me and I did not know what to expect. The guard in the khaki uniform assigned me to the empty double bunk cell number 7 at the end of the corridor between two rows of cells. She was one of the most liked caseworkers/guards as prisoners reported their experiences with her. Although, she was my first theoretical caseworker only for five days in Unit 6, I had never had any direct experience with her, except, escorting me once during my second hunger strike to the clinic without causing me any grief or interfering with my medical tests as the male terminators did. She waited outside the room patiently, respectfully, and politely. Have you noticed that all female caseworkers had been liked and appreciated by the prisoners? One more is left to be mentioned later. Female guards occupied either security positions with the blue uniforms or chose to be caseworkers and wore the khaki outfits. Caseworkers were security guards, but, had some social and bureaucratic training to be able to do some social and administrative work for the inmates. Some occupied such positions without any personal interest except the higher pay they received for wearing the khaki uniforms. As you know, yourself, money is the strongest driving force in human lives. All female caseworkers I had experienced and heard of were different than most male colleagues. They served the prisoners, treated them with respect, showed compassion for them, helped, and performed real services for the ones they had been in charge of and for the ones who had other male caseworkers who went to jail to solve the crossword puzzles and flex their muscles. Some expressed the attitude that they were there to serve and others just served without much talk such as Amanda McMurran and Weir. When many male guards stood as barriers between prisoners and satisfying their legitimate needs like filing applications for different governmental programs, convicts spoke to any female caseworker available, even filling a temporary shift for some absent guard, the ladies did the job behind the back of the formal male caseworker. I do not know a single exception for the positive and honorable attitudes and actions of all female caseworkers, but, there are some whom I know nothing about. The last one mentioned, Amanda, has proven that being kind did not stand in the way of being the best in terms of security and honesty as she had been the only (female or male) guard who stood in the center of the massive green jail’s outside yard in the summer, when inmates were allowed to spend an hour on the green lawn and enjoy some fresh air. That outside activity had been a significant source for smuggling into the jail as outsider collaborators threw drug packages over the wire fences. Collecting the drugs was a piece of cake because the very well paid guards such as Slavosky were busy chatting together or with the recreational employees. Any such smuggling and retrieving attempts had been impossible with the caseworker Amanda McMurran standing in the middle of the field, like a lioness, observing everything around her and, in the same time, chatting nicely with the prisoners. At the same time, she had earned her salary. In contrast, many female hyenas in the blue uniforms were competing with their male colleagues to prove equality in savagery. They were just in the bodies of human beings. Several of them cut the water on inmates having (legal) showers because some retarded maintenance workers appeared to repair something. Convicts had to be locked up instantly as if the maintenance workers had been the Prime Minister of Canada. Those are the good things about democracy that some people can be more important than the apparent rulers. Back to the female caseworkers and their superior ethical and professional qualities that were impossible to miss. What is the reason for such superiority? Is it the gender? I cannot think of anything else. Is it the same instinct that does not allow a female to dump her baby and run away like most human and nonhuman males? It is a fact of life that males and females mate without marriage, especially, in the modern free Democratic World. The absolute majority of males runs away and never looks back. The predominant majority of human or nonhuman females stays stuck with the consequences of the sexual pleasure and raises the resulting baby. This is the only explanation I can offer for the superior morals and performance of female caseworkers.

Johnny took me to my new home, said that he had just moved out of it to another single bed cell number 10 just before I had arrived, and provided me with all cleaning supplies and tools I needed to clean the room thoroughly. Thereafter, he took me on a tour to show me the small unit and its amenities. It was very quiet and relaxing, but, that was because most of its occupants were outside the jail working for free. The cells were open most of the time and I could leave and enter my room as I pleased.

There was a large room for laundry and cleaning supplies and tools that was larger than its purpose. It contained a washer and two dries. In contrast to all other units, where cleaning the cells was permitted only during a certain hour a day, I could clean my room any time I wished throughout the day because the cleaning supplies and tools were available and unlocked. Broom and mop handles are consider weapons and could be used for such a purpose if some prisoners would get into fights.

An important qualification for inmates to reside in Unit One was having a clean or an acceptable internal criminal record during the first third or half of the sentence (depending on the nature of the conviction), in other words being clean in regard to convictions with assaults, drug smuggling and consumption, or any other violations. Of course, that did not mean the absence of involvement in the reality, but, being not caught committing any violations. That former statement is very important to understand the fact that residents of that unit were a main source for smuggling from the outside world into the jail, so, some or many of them were in fact not completely innocent. Courts classify convicts according to the nature of their convictions and that determined the length of the sentence period before considering reclassifying convicts from the medium to the minimum security levels. Thieves were classified as the least dangerous and needed to spend only one third of their entire jail term before evaluating their suitability for a security reclassification. Someone as dangerous as myself had to spend a half of the total sentence before such an examination and a decision. Being a minimum security prisoner meant that he could be entrusted with the cleaning tools such as the mop and broom handles without using them as weapons. However, that did not mean that every convict could leave the prison to work outside for free. I was not allowed because the seriousness of the threat I posed to the outside world, in theory. I was very lucky with that fact because I could use my entire time either reading or writing this story. All the above mentioned did not prevent placement in that unit from being as dangerous as in any other unit. What really counted for the prison was the low risk of escaping of the unit occupants to be able to perform important jobs outside the prison such as removing snow in the severe Canadian winter and mowing the jail’s massive lawns in the summer. I do not know the level of importance of the work that the jail’s workforce had provided for free to the City, Municipality, and businesses. All members of the outside workforce were very much interested in working outside the prison for many reasons. Some wanted to get out of the terrible jail’s environment; others were interested in smoking and smuggling items to sell inside the jail. Anyhow, no one was interested in the charity of such a free work. A mutual interest had always existed. The jail was interested in having convicts working, who wanted to work for their own reasons, so that they would not perform sloppy jobs. I was asked if I wanted to work as a cleaner twice in Units 5 and 1 upon requests from fellow inmates who noticed my interest in a clean environment. Anyhow, after I was told that I was allowed to decline, I did. I kept helping my fellow inmates on a personal level so that I would not encourage the jail to appoint me officially for any job that I could not refuse. My reason for helping my fellow convicts was thankfulness for the free services they provided everyone including me.

Unit One contained two TV rooms for the smaller number of inmates and a smaller hall with tables and plastic seats for the daily miserable prison’s meals, chatting, and playing some board games. Although the unit’s office was smaller, as well, and designed to accommodate only one guard to run the unit, it contained the same controls, computer system, and screens that all other units had and allowed monitoring the unit with some intended exceptions. Hot water maker was available for coffee (and some food items) and the water did not become cold from the overuse as it happened in the overpopulated units. That, also, had been a significant reason for frictions among inmates that caused violence and insecurity, because providing sufficient supply of hot water was a privilege that criminals did not earn. Inside Unit One, there was the completely double isolated section of the Administrative Custody that contained three cells where I was kept during my second hunger strike. In addition to the three cells number 13, 14, and 15, that zone included a shower, a telephone, and a small room for cleaning supplies and tools only for the residents of that area. That section was the opposite to the unit that enclosed it because it allowed no privileges at all. The same astronomically expensive and very bad telephone service was available upon permission. In unit One, there had been no problem finding an available functioning telephone to use in contrast to Unit 5.

The most important amenity for me, in addition to the open cells most of the time, had been two transparent windows in the common hall that allowed to see the outside World, the sun, the blue sky, clouds, fields, the green lawn, trees, the green leaves on the trees during the summer, the golden leaves under the golden sun light in the fall, rain, wind, birds, and working inmates. I was lucky to be able to sit beside one of those windows most of my time while writing my story or playing backgammon with anyone of my acquaintances. It was a blessing to be able to see the outside scenery without being in the slaves’ clothes and chains in hands and legs and watched by members of the free public many of whom knew me in person in a small city. There was a pair of Canadian geese lovers, a family or what so ever in the birds World, that spent most of their time on the lush lawn feeding in peace. I was able to recognize their gender from their behavior. The female was occupied completely with feeding with her neck low and forward searching for the most delicious parts of the grass. In contrast, the male had his neck and head upwards vigilant looking out for any danger protecting his wife (mate). He was always behind and following her.

Unit 1 contained 12 main cells, 6 of which were single bed and the other 6 were double bunks with a maximum capacity of 18 inmates, but that had changed a few weeks before my release. The Government had added an extra bed to every single bunk cell of the entire jail to increase its maximum capacity to relieve the overcrowded jails of the Province of Alberta. However, the plan was not to fill every cell with only two occupants, but, with three, one of whom on the floor. One of the TV rooms was supposed to be converted into a cell to contain further eight bunks. Another larger room for overflow inmates contained four bunks. All the mentioned bunks were in units of twos, one of which on the top of the other.

Guards’ inspections of the unit’s cells were seldom in contrast to the regular units where they entered the cells regularly, of course without knocking on the doors or asking for permission, checked the windows, looked around for any sign of illegality, and performed a quick search such as looking under the mattresses. They, also, looked inside the cells through the glass windows every hour to inspect the safety of inmates. Certainly, a lot could happen during those long hours inside the locked cells. Prisoners’ safety is a government’s responsibility and any harm to any inmate would lead to a lawsuit that would result in a large financial compensation paid to the victim from the taxpayers’ money, of course. Here is one of the significant elements of the democratic world. Employees (and politicians) make the mistakes and taxpayers are penalized, not, the direct cause of the mischiefs. Please, do not forget that compensations of governments’ mistakes, in general, reach millions of dollars at your and my expense. This means that you and I are punished always for the Government’s and its employees’ mistakes.

Next day after my arrival was the designated day for haircuts performed by unprofessional prisoners with a very questionable hygiene. Johnny did it again who had never realized how valuable his service had been to me. He only saw what I did for him and underestimated what he did for me.

SECRET ABSENCE OF THE LAW IN THE JAIL’S

HOTEL

There was a large bathroom that contained two showers, a big mirror, a ceramic toilet, a ceramic sink, and even a real bathtub. It was, also, larger than its purpose. Only one shower could be used because there was only a single curtain that was extremely filthy.

Later I learned and experienced that the bathroom was one of two places where inmate smokers did smoke with the jail authority’s knowledge and complicity. Smoking was prohibited and punishable everywhere else inside the prison. The jail’s management let the prisoners think they were fooling it and the guards. The unit included a small yard only for its inmates including the prisoners inside the double secured Administrative Custody area. The yard had an open ceiling to the sky covered with a wire barrier to prevent escape. Its official purpose was to give the inmates the opportunity to exercise by walking in circles while breathing fresh air. That was the second place where convicts smoked regularly with the jail’s awareness and secret consent. Of course, there were functioning cameras installed. The guards either shut them down or watched silently. They had never entered nor inspected the yard while the smokers were inside. The mentioned lawless condition could have never stopped the smoking convicts from consuming any kind of prohibited drugs inside that blind area. Guards knew for fact that prisoners entered the lawless zone to smoke and may be to do whatever they pleased and never interfered. They closed their eyes intentionally. The entrance door to that yard was always locked centrally like every other door inside the prison. Smokers (and may be drug consumers) asked the guard in charge to unlock that door. The guard did open it. They entered and, after completing their illegal business in groups, pushed the intercom button to be let in. The guards played the role of being stupid flawlessly. Many guards and supervisors, if not all of them, participated in the breach of the correctional laws/regulations. The main unit guards were often replaced by many different guards and supervisors, such as Goldie, temporarily during regular breaks, days off, vacations, sick and other absences, and leaving the unit to perform some other duties in other parts of the jail. All those replacement employees had participated in the mentioned breaches without exceptions. The jail let the convicts understand that allowing them to smoke and may be more had been just personal decisions of the involved guards. The contrary had been true. It was a jails secret policy of rewarding that unit’s inmates for some reason. The only logical rational could only be rewarding the free work performed outside the jail without escaping. The same guards and supervisors worked in other units and had never followed such an illegal secret policy nor permitted any breaches, yet, followed a different unlawful policy in Unit One intentionally. In such a military setting, guards and employees had to follow orders blindly and (in most cases) brainlessly to be able to keep their very well paying jobs that required a minimum of only a high school diploma and not to miss advancement opportunities within the hierarchy of power within the “Correctional System”. They could not follow an illegal policy without instructions from the jail’s authority and most probably the Government itself, especially, that they did not have any personal interests in being kind to the convicts they mistreated in most of the times. People take risks only to satisfy personal interests.

Guards spoke openly about smoking in the mentioned yard. One of them told all present inmates in the common hall, plainly, to be more careful, not to forget that smoking had been illegal, and they should not be caught nor smell after smoke. That courage astonished me. One thing made the guards, really, mad. Many convicts forgot that smoking (and may be consumption of other drugs) in the back yard was, if fact, illegal or acted as if it were legal and asked individually to be permitted to the yard. Several guards corrected such (irresponsible) behavior instructing the smoking public to do the smoking business in groups rather than individually. The purpose has been reducing the time spent on the unlawful permitted actions. In other words, if you are committing or participating in a crime, you have to do it fast to reduce the risk of being caught. A night shift guard caught a stupid inmate smoking inside his cell during the night lock up hours between 10:30 p.m. and 7:00 a.m. He breached the rules outside the secret illegal frame that existed, and the jail meant business. He was charged and penalized. That same guy had once stolen my turn to have a shower so I did not feel sorry for him.

The illegal secret absence of control, supervision, inspection, and enforcement of the honorable “Correctional” laws within the blind areas inside the jail meant not only the illegal complicity and permission of smoking of tobacco, but also, any other sort of breach and crimes such as the consumption of illegal drugs or even fights among inmates. Smoking and consumption of drugs within the lawless areas of the jail meant that such items had to be smuggled unlawfully, as well, and that the jail’s authority and the Government were, in the same way, collaborative in that illegal process, too. Practically, that was the case.

The above mentioned real story has been a very minor example of the corruption and hypocrisy of the proud democracy that includes two tiers of classes. The inferior classes contain all people including the prison’s inmates who had been and can be subjected to the devastating force of the law. The superior tier consists of the untouchable classes who are above and not subject to the same law. The law makers and enforcers including the jail’s managers and their governmental superiors are by no means the strongest members of the untouchable classes. They breach the law on behalf of the Government of Alberta, but in contrast to the jail’s convicts, have never been held accountable for the crimes they commit while they punish others for committing crimes. Of course, such crimes had to be committed secretly and covered up. A more important question is: what other laws have they breached secretly? Do you know anyone from the Untouchables? Can you think of someone? Are you one of them? Or, may be, there is none?

On behalf of the honorable, but, sadist Government of Alberta, the sick agents of the Lethbridge “Correctional” Center could not breach the unbreakable Correctional Laws and exempt my genitals from the regular striptease rape although they knew for fact that I was not involved in any illegality because the law had to be implemented equally and fairly, of course, outside Unit One’s yard and bathroom. Secretly, they had some justification for supporting the smuggling and consumption of tobacco and drugs inside the mentioned unit. The intelligent and knowledgeable DDO explained to me once that everything had a reason, but, convicts might not know it. There is no doubt that the government agents had their reasons for participating in the breaches of the laws of their own employer. Anyhow, they cannot be called criminals nor held accountable for such crimes.

THE UNTOUCHABLES

and

THE SECRET CANADIAN

UNDER GROUND WORLD

Corruption has always been the strongest element of the human behavior and actions. Its main, if not the only, driving force has ever been the individual human self-interest. At all times of human history, laws have been enforced against some classes of every human society and suspended for members of the untouchable classes and servants. There have constantly been, also, secret deals between the centers of power on one side and law makers and enforcers on the other side that results in the suspension of the law for the Untouchables and employees.

My research had been stolen by senior government scientists under the protection of the Canadian Federal Government. During the past 13 years (remember number 13?), I have had the opportunity to experience the corruption of all levels of the Canadian Governments on the streets through my operation of delivery/courier and taxi businesses.

People who deliver newspapers, pizza, prescription drugs, fast food, letters, parcels, etc. do not declare their income for taxation under the protection of all levels of the Canadian Governments that have enacted the laws requiring every working Canadian citizen and resident to declare income for taxation. There might be some exceptions that I do not know of. I am one of them. Almost all my competitors have been illegal even the subcontracted parcel delivery drivers of Canada Post, a Canadian Government agency, who drive privately licensed and insured vehicles. That saves many thousands of dollars for each vehicle operated each year. Those savings are passed to the customers who need their products to be delivered to their customers at the cheapest rates possible. Of course, Canada Post is not responsible like all taxi companies, food/pizza stores, and newspapers for such illegal actions because the drivers are self-employed and responsible for their own relation with the Government and its taxation agents. In contrast, my employees and I have been declaring income for taxation for the past 13 years.

My business has been almost the only one that operated commercially licensed and insured vehicles as the law requires. That increased my expenses for each operated van by $5,000-$7,000 a year in contrast to every illegal operator including Canada Post, whose subcontracted vehicles are privately licensed and insured. The illegal savings are passed to and gained more customers for my competitors at my expense. The Canadian Government agencies and agents such as the Minister of Revenue, local police, Mayor, and Municipality have been intentionally closing their eyes in the same way the jail’s management had been doing with the smokers and drug consumers of Unit One. The above mentioned businesses are worth many millions of dollars a year, but, this is only at the level of the City of Lethbridge market with a total population of only 80,000 inhabitants. Such an underground economy would be worth many billions of dollars at the country’s level. Government collaborators have never been held accountable and ended in jails. Illegal operators and drivers have been sheltered not because they belong to the Untouchables, but, because they benefit them and fill the democratic black holes of breaching the society’s constitution and core principles. The Untouchables hire all state’s agents by the financial donations for election campaigns and ownership of mass media. That is how the noble democracy works. In democracy, you do not mess with the Untouchables as the late US President John F. Kennedy did. If you have no idea what I am talking about, read my article: “Game of Money and Destruction” at:Game of Money and Destruction (American Democracy??? ). I wrote to the (Honorable) Minister of Revenue 8 years ago about tax evasion of the competing businesses (pizza, newspaper delivery, and taxi drivers). He said that tackling the underground economy takes some time. That was a Liberal Minister. I wrote to a different Conservative Minister and addressed him with “Your Honor”, like the judge how sent me to jail, again 7 years later asking whether 7 years were not enough to do the job and gave him particular facts. He took many months to respond and gave me his answer which had been the general policy of the Ministry of Revenue of random audit of taxpayers. Well, that have been very convincing, especially, for someone like me who knows how things really work in democracies. That man and similar Untouchables do not go to jails for the crimes they commit, allow to be committed, playing stupid. The delivery persons who deliver newspaper and pizza are still outside the legal system although most of them collect Welfare and AISH checks paid by the taxpayers. Many of them are richer than their supporters.

Do you want some more undemocratic facts? The economy of the democratic Canada is constitutionally based on the principles of the free market. One of those rules is the noninterference of the government with pricing of goods and services in the market as it is supposed to be in all members of the capitalist world including the leading developed Western Democracies. However, municipal governments do the opposite and impose taxi fare prices like every economic activity of the former Communist World. Since such interference would result in the elimination of any economic activity controlled by governmental decrees (called laws) such as taxi services, those services would vanish as the entire former Communist World had disappeared mainly due to the controlled economy by the communist governments. Controlled economy was the core of Communism and the reason for its collapse. But, why should price-controlled services or goods vanish? The imposed prices are below viability and serve social purposes. Free market does not put social burdens on businesses and social redistribution of wealth such as free social services are financed directly from tax money. Taxi fares are below viability. How to solve that? Illegality and government complicity is the answer. Taxi companies collect from the self-employed taxi drivers whatever they want to be profitable. They lease the vehicles for say $100 for a 12-hour shift and that is profitable. The driver works 12 hours a day, pays for gasoline, cleaning, accidents, and, then, goes home with, sometimes, $3.00 a day. Some other lucky days, he (or in rare circumstances she) returns home with $100 or more. In total, he earns much less than the minimum wage per hour, if he knows how to calculate that. The only way to be able to make a living is to work 12 hours a day and 6 days weekly. Those are 72 hours a week, 32 hours above the acceptable democratic standards of the maximum number of hours worked a week by a single employee with a particular employer. In addition, taxi drivers earn much less than the standard minimum wage. The solution is to ignore the underground world of taxi and delivery drivers and let them make a living without expecting an honest income declaration for taxation or considering that they exist at all for tax purposes. That is genius, but of course, illegal. However, no one lands in jail for committing tax evasion and complicity. Government employees do not go to jail, anyhow, for such crimes, otherwise, you will scare people from working for the government. Canadian local (municipal) governments with complicity of all level of federal and provincial governments left (illegal) black holes to allow such services to exist by letting taxi drivers be considered (legally) self-employed. They are free from the law’s protection and obligations to have the right balance to be illegally able to exist (earn a living). As the labor laws do not apply to them because they are self-employed, there are no limits imposed on the number of hours they work a day and a week. In most cases, a taxi driver works 12 hours a day and 6 days a week. Those are 72 hours a week versus the legal standard of only 40 hours a week for all democratic employees protected by the labor laws. How many hours a self-employed works is his or her own concern. Practically taxi and delivery drivers are not self-employed but very much employed and follow, practically, the employers’ rules. The only reason for their classification as self-employed is the legalization of their democratic exploitation and filling the democratic economic and social black holes. They receive income in cash and in most, if not all, cases never report it fully or completely for taxation. In the same way, the government’s taxation agents never want to know anything about the income of taxi and delivery drivers and many others serving the interests of the Untouchables.

Many of those illegal earners receive extra free taxpayers’ money in the form of Welfare (social assistance) or AISH support. Welfare is a governmental financial support to people who are unable to provide for themselves such as the unemployed (willing to work but cannot find jobs). AISH is a governmental financial support to the permanently disabled. Some of those support recipients are richer than the working taxpayers who finance them. Many of Welfare and AISH recipients perform such jobs such as delivery or even driving taxi and still collect the extra undeclared and illegal income with the secret and illegal support of the government. As you may know, there is no accountability for spending taxpayer’s money in contrast for the strict accountability of some taxpayers.

The conclusion must be that government agents close their eyes to allow some inmates of Unit One of the Lethbridge “Correctional” Center to smoke, consume all sorts of illegal drugs, and do whatever they please and, also, allow hundreds of thousands, if not more, to hide their incomes and commit all sorts of crimes. None of the criminals and the government collaborators ends in jail.

Ignoring certain crimes, certainly, leads to disregarding more crimes associated with the crimes brushed away at the first place such as ignoring smoking in the yard of Unit One must be associated with disregarding the consumption of other illegal drugs, since there had been no control of what was going on. Ignoring smoking and the intake of illegal drugs in the mentioned blind spots of the jail must be associated with ignoring the source of those prohibited items which must be smuggling from the outside World. Does that make sense? Government employees have, of course, reasons for the mentioned complicity with crimes and criminals, but that actions or no actions are illegal and can, only in theory, send them to jail. Like all corruption, such process of eye closure in regard to crimes in jail and the outside within the Democratic World must stay secret and the image of the government and its agents must stay holy. Solidarity among each group of people, class, and profession is most important in keeping crimes of government officials concealed. The exposure of just one corrupt employee is a grave threat to everyone else within the mafia system.

Although all levels of the Canadian Government brag, especially internationally, about the Canadian leading role among all nations of the World in regard to the respect of human rights, it does not consider corruption and discrimination in implementing the Canadian laws among its citizens and residents as violation of human rights of equality and fairness. The same government does not regard that some Canadians carry more financial burdens than others, some bear unfairly no burdens at all, others collect more than their fair share in return for their work, and some are wrongfully terrorized by the Canadian Injustice System while others are completely shielded from its fangs as violations of human rights because the above mentioned stories exist only in my mind.

A newspaper delivery person is not above the law because he or she is a center of power, but, his employer (the media), certainly, is. A government of any level would not step on the feet of a (significant) newspaper because it can make or break it by forming the voters’ views about almost anything they want. Anyhow, the newspaper delivery person is self-employed and, therefore, the newspaper is not responsible for his or her relation with the government and taxation authorities. The catch is that if the delivery person would be legal, he or she would not be able to accept what the newspaper pays in cash for his or her service. Obviously, a viable legal pay would increase the price of the newspaper delivered to your (the readers’) door steps. Maintaining the newspaper delivery person illegal is just a nice gesture from all levels of the Canadian Governments toward the newspaper (the media in general since the owners are very few) in return for the cooperation with the general democratic propaganda. This is just one small example of the Canadian Governmental Corruption.The local newspaper advertises shamelessly cash payments of delivery drivers which means tax-free income.

Democracy is swamped with illegal compliments to serve certain important democratic interests by closing the eyes of governmental agents. They do not go to jails and enjoy the democratic secret immunity against discovering the reality of their world. The ones who are caught and prosecuted are just escape goats for their masters and to cover up higher corruption. If someone is going to fall anyhow, all the mafia would turn against him or her to prove honesty to the public. Well, it is a very sophisticated game. If you are interested to know more about the untouchables in more details, you can read my article: “The Devil and Associates”. It was about to be finished and published just before my 10-month visit to the Alberta “Correctional” Jail. It took me 15 months to research and write. My punishment would be this time a democratic assassination because no Canadian jail would accept me to report later about what I would see there. Do not wonder, people die in democratic accidents.

CONSTITUTIONAL BREACHES BY GOVERNMENT

AGENTS

Consumption of drugs on the streets and in homes is treated by law enforcement agencies and agents as if it were legal although it is not. No charges are laid and, therefore, neither prosecution nor convictions follow. This means no penalties for illegal actions unless the police officer does not like you, then, all the mentioned will happen for sure. Why do not law enforcement agents enforce some or, may be, many laws? The answer they provide is very stupid, corrupt, and unconstitutional, which is saving taxpayers’ money for minor crimes! This means that the consumption of drugs is so a minor offense so that it is a waste of time and money to prosecute. The result has been the spread of the intake of illegal drugs to become a national habit so that visitor drug users ask shamelessly anyone they meet including taxi drivers where to find a drug dealer in addition to a prostitute. In contrast to drug dealers, drug and prostitution customers are not afraid to ask about suppliers as they do not fear or expect any legal consequences for practicing their habits. Law enforcement agencies are only after drug dealers who will never be eradicated because of the, practically, unpunished nor threatened mass demand for their services in addition to the limitations of the cultural and legal environment and system. Do not forget that landing in jail is not so bad for many professional criminals who profit five folds from selling drugs inside the Canadian jails without any serious legal consequences such as prolonged jail terms. You remember, they only land in the hole-cells for a few days, if there were a room available. Lack of prosecution of illegal drug users provides a very comfortable environment for them and a strong demand for the services of drug dealers so that the illegal drug consumption is perceived by many people as legal. Some do not know at all that it is in fact illegal. Here, a very important hypocritical cultural and legal attitude and conduct of the Canadian Governments (federal and provincial) have to be explained. Prisoners in Canadian jails (described misleadingly as Correctional Centers) have difficulty to understand and accept the fact that drug consumption on the Canadian free streets and in homes are, practically, legal while in the jails are not. Canadian prisons are still within the Canadian state, I guess. What is not wrong outside should not be incorrect inside, and the opposite must be true. Do not the Canadian Governments need to be consistent with their cultural and legal offerings and demands inside and outside their “Correrctianls” Centers, not to confuse their criminal victims about what is considered right and what not? Lack of consistency, respectability, and honesty cannot help the Canadian Governmental dream of correcting the least criminal victims of the society in the Canadian “Correctional” Centers. I mean with the least criminal victims that the really significant criminal ones never end in jails nor have the spot lights focused on them. They are the Canadian Untouchables, an element of the international Untouchable mafia. If you are interested to know more in details about the World’s legal ruling mafia, pleased, wait for my one-year delayed article/book: The Devil and Associates. I will tell you there who really rule the World and some names, too.

Drunkenness in public and disturbing the public peace through the drunken behavior is illegal, as well. However, police provides protection in most cases to drunks in public who harass and assault members of the sober world, especially, if the victim were a lonely taxi or delivery driver. Very often, crimes of drunks are covered up and never prosecuted, especially, if the offender were white. Of course personal acquaintances and friends enjoy additional protection. The purpose has been providing a comfortable environment to alcohol consumers not to upset the interests of the booze producers and dealers as the volume of that famous business is in the billions of dollars, $16 billions a year to be precise.

Law enforcement agencies and agents treat many other illegalities in the same way such as bicycling during the night hours (for example at 2:00 a.m.) without lights and all other legal requirements and small thefts such as not paying a taxi fare and running away. The reason is not laziness, but, the desire to save taxpayers’ money because the crimes are so minor and not worth pursuing.

Sometimes, it took me hours under a temperature of minus 40°C to chase a thief who used my taxi service and ran away without payment. More time was needed for police officers to come, negotiate with the thief, and then let him pay the taxi fare disregarding all the time spent between his escape and reaching such a resolution, as if that expense and loss of revenue to be on the house, my house, although the city bylaws included charges for waiting time. Police had the courage to disagree and annul implementing the mentioned bylaw. After payment of the few dollars, the officer let the thief go in peace as if the taxi driver were a provider of a free social service to the local society’s thieves. Do not forget that that police officer and his partner were paid, anyhow, very well for their time like the jail’s guards who spent their time reading the newspaper, solving puzzles, chatting, and making personal phone calls. Are police officers much better in term of earning their salaries? Well, I have seen lots of them for years spending hours inside Tim Horton’s (coffee) stores with their police vehicles parked outside. Sometimes, it had been not so busy and criminals were lazy so that police officers had nowhere to go to spend their paid working hours. The theft of a $5 dollar item from Wal-Mart or a similar corporation leads to an instant charge of shoplifting, and that is very correct. However, it is a constitutional crime and violation of the Canadian Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms to discriminate in implementing the same law among individuals and members of the different sectors and classes of the same society. Please, note that the damage to the taxi driver or a similar poor worker or entrepreneur is by far much greater than that to a large corporation. Constitutionally, a theft is a theft and a crime is a crime. This is why the symbol of justice has been a woman with her eyes covered carrying the scale of justice weighing only the subject that is beeing examined. In contrast to that theoretical concept, all Canadian judges, I have experienced, were not blind to everything (such as race, origin, religion, culture, personality, attitude, class, job, and similarity with the judge himself and his culture, attitudes, and origin) except the matter they were considering.

One of the important aspects of law enforcement concepts that are taught at college Criminal Justice courses (in particular in the City of Lethbridge) is the financial cost of and the length of the time spent on the legal process of charging, prosecuting, trying, and imprisonment of a thief who stole a small sum of money, a petty product or service, or committed a minor fraud. That is why law enforcement agencies give the law a break when dealing with such “small matters” which is unconstitutional, corrupt, and discredits the entire system and state. The victim would never accept any excuse for denying him or her the constitutional right of the so called “JUSTICE”. Further unpunished corruption is, also, penalizing someone for committing a particular crime while others are let free for perpetrating the same offense. Getting away with such small thefts has always been an encouragement and a proof for thieves that stealing is a viable, risk-free enterprise, and a cause for repeating of the business of thievery.

All the above reported attitudes and actions of law enforcement agencies and agents are illegal and unconstitutional, yet, no one of the involved theoreticians and practitioners have ever been held accountable nor penalized for breaching the Constitution of the country because they belong to the (lower casts of the) Untouchables.

Laws are enacted by the legislature to be enforced by the executive law enforcement agencies that, constitutionally, do not have the right to choose what laws to enforce and what ones not to be applied; nor do they have the right to provide any reasons for not implementing certain laws. That is, constitutionally, not their job. Neither should financing the entire state and legal system be their function. The choice of not applying any law for whatever reasoning is a constitutional breach that is practically exempt from punishment because the illegal secret immunity that the Untouchables enjoy.

Immersing deep down to the bottom of the dark hole of corruption, the illegal option available to choose to enforce certain laws and give other ones a break is associated with the convenience of conflict of interests such as the protection of oneself, family members, acquaintances, friends, superiors, their families and friends, the Untouchables, and gaining benefits in return for bribes and ignoring crimes. All that is known as abuse of power and position and happens all over around you, just, open your eyes. Goldie, one of the jail’s supervisors, would jump and shouting: how I dare mentioning anything about bribing a Canadian police officer because he saw in Mexico, where he has his vacation home, police officers receive bribes on the streets openly not to give you traffic tickets or not to charge you for any just or invented violation. Canadian police officers do not do that. The types of bribes depend on the level of development of a certain country; corruption remains the same. In all poor countries, you can see the primitive form of corruption of openly and directly bribing a police officer/soldier with money payments on the streets because their wages are incomparable with a police officer from a developed country. A Canadian police officer does not need the humiliation of receiving $10 or $20 bribes. He or she makes enough money so that such an act is not seen on the Canadian streets. But, do not tell me that many police officers do not let the wife of his coworker gets away with over speeding or even shoplifting. Do not tell me that some police officers would not let the community judge, a city Mayor, an important politician, a movie star, or a prosecutor escapes being captured impaired driving or even committing a more serious crime. Do not tell me, either, that they do not let people of their choice escape the legal consequences of committing significant crimes for personal and career interests. What is the benefit from such an illegal behavior? It is the exchange of illegal favors such as Judge F W Coward letting Constable Lyle Millhouse commit three crimes, but, convicts his victim letting the police officer go home happy keeping his job as if he had been an honorable civil servant. The police officer and his employer (the Lethbridge City Police) has to pay back that favor. Here is the true story of both honorable civil servants:

Constable Lyle Millhouse (Officer’s Regimental No.: 9197) from the Lethbridge City Police broke into my home without the legally required court order, assaulted, wounded, and then arrested me for no reason as he came to hand me an order to appear in front the city court. He arrested me because I refused to accompany him to his police car in my pajamas after he woke me up from sleep. I did not have to accompany him at all as he could have handed me the document and left. I told him that I could accompany him only if I dressed. He jumped inside my home illegally, pushed me to the rear putting one of his legs behind my legs so that I fell on my back having him on the top of my body. That caused me injuries at different places of my body. He put handcuffs around my wrists and led me to his car. I did not resist the arrest, but, swore him badly as disrespect of a criminal state’s agent. He was acting upon advice of his superiors as he testified in front of the court so that his behavior had been racially motivated by the city police. I knew very well that swearing is not illegal in the Canadian law and considered freedom of expression, so, when the police want to get you for swearing them, they have to find another crime except being sworn at, which is not a crime at all. That is called fabrication and perjury. It is criminal, but lying and judges’ complicity cover up for any state agents’ unlawful actions. Anyhow, judges are appointed and paid by the state. They have to be (unconstitutionally) considerate in regard to how they treat their paymaster. The police officer had to invent a cover up story to justify being inside my home without the necessary court order because what he did with the encouragement of his supervisors was a crime, two crimes (home invasion and assault), which would cost him his job, only in theory. However, states agents do not commit crimes as you already know. They are honest and honorable.

As his lie was very weak and clear, the prosecutor, R. N. Paziuk (a state’s hero), offered me to drop the charge of resisting arrest in return of admitting committing another crime that I did not commit either. Here, we are going to touch a very important element of the Canadian Banana Legal Bystem, which is the deals offered by the state’s agents and negotiated with the accused or their lawyers. It is a kind of bargaining as it happens in oriental souks and offers opportunities of having bad or good deals as if justice (innocence or guilt) is open for negotiations. In reality that is the way it works. I refused to accept the prosecutor’s offer as I, at that time, did not know the extent of the Banana Legal System corruption that I realized later, and am pleased to offer you my experience because you will not find it anywhere in the free democratic mass media. I declined the offer because I was innocent and the state and its agent were guilty of breaching the law it has legislated itself and sworn to respect. The state’s prosecutor was extremely mad at me because of my accusations of the local police of corruption in general and in the particular case of invading my home and assaulting me. He was mad as if he was defending himself although freedom of expression granted by the Canadian law permits to speak out, only in theory. I thought that a judge would evaluate the matter in front of him disregarding his personal loyalties, culture, and what is called in general “politics”. A judge is supposed to be blind except in regard to the matter he or she considers. You have to wake up from your sleep if you really believe that it is the way it works. The outcome of the bargaining between the state’s prosecutors and accused depends on many factors including the relation among the involved business partners (lawyers, prosecutors, judges in the quiet background) and how the accused is important financially to the lawyer as a source of income. I am talking about money, here. Justice in the Banana Republic of Canada depends on your financial abilities. The more money you throw into the “Justice” system the more justice you can achieve. Tell me I am wrong! Is there more or less justice? Note, at this point, that there are many justices or outcomes of trials depending on many factors including the amount of money invested. For my naïve and simple mind, having several or many possibilities for the result of a legal process depending on the factors, I mentioned above and the factors I do not know yet, means that there is no “Justice” at all. My backward brain can only imagine one single outcome under any and all possible circumstances to be able to call the Canadian legal system a “Justice” system, which is, in fact, not. It is a mafia, corrupt, and a further violation of the Canadian Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms that stipulates equality in treatment of all Canadians in terms of the (amount of justice) they receive disregarding their social and financial status. It is, also, a violation of the same Charter to convict an innocent man for any reason.For the crimes of invading my home by the police (the executive branch of the Canadian Government) for no reason and without a court order and assaulting me, I was condemned guilty and paid a fine of $500. There was no proof, but, the sympathy of the Judge F W Coward to his paymaster, the state, and business partners (police officers) and a proven cultural, racial, and biased dislike to a non-submissive accused such as myself. The judge’s prejudice has been impossible to miss as he had not stopped shouting at me from the first moment I started testifying until he convicted me, wrongfully. That fact alone did not allow him to hear anything I said to be able to judge me at the end. Anyhow, it was not difficult to guess his final verdict against me (guilty). A smarter man would have hidden his personal emotions before convicting the person he disliked. His lack of concentration and understanding of what I had said is provable from the trial’s manuscript as he claimed in his reasons for convicting me that I said things I had never said. I cannot blame him, because if he was yelling during my entire testimony, he could have not listened precisely to anything I had said. He was not neutral and that was the first reason that he was not qualified to play the vital role within the Canadian society as a judge addressed with “Your Honor”. His knowledge of the Canadian law is irrelevant, but, more significant is his personal attitude of the paramount position of being neutral and objective. I am going to dare and declare more reasons about his disqualifications to be a Canadian judge except his personal connections within the Canadian legal mafia.

He interrupted me so frequently during my testimony so that he could not have comprehended what I was saying, did not seem to want to listen to anything, and appeared to know already in advance what verdict he wanted to pronounce. The prosecutor was extremely mad because of my accusations of police corruption and that I did not trust the local police. Furthermore, I accused the police officer, Lyle Millhouse of lying 11 times during his cross examination to cover up for his crimes of invading my home and then assaulting me. That was, in legal terms, an accusation of committing perjury, lying under oath, that would cost him his job, if not covered up. Well, perjury is a regular habit in Canadian courts. Everyone lies, but, perjury is just a theoretical element of the Canadian law practice, unless, they really want to get you. The mentioned police officer had committed in fact three crimes on behalf of the executive branch of the Canadian Government. That could have never been acknowledged by loyal state’s employees such as the mentioned judge and prosecutor because the legal consequences for the particular police officer and his employer would be serious, but, thanks God; there are people like Mr. F W Coward to help out. Practically, it was impossible that that judge would have decided differently, because, justice has never been the main concern of the state’s agents. What is their main concern, then? Well, you guess, self-interest that does not go hand in hand with justice in many cases. It is only propaganda calling the Canadian Banana Legal System a “Justice System”. Only the fool public might believe that. Someone like me had to pay dearly to find out the qualities of the mentioned regime. Under the political realities of the Canadian legal system, the corrupt police, state, and agent (Lyle Millhouse) were not going to be exposed as criminals. If you expect any different outcome, I am sorry, then, you must be a fool as I had been. In his reasons for convicting me, the honorable judge said that I blamed everyone who drinks, which I never said. I mentioned facts of life that “some” drunks in public can be very dangerous to sober people on the streets including taxi drivers who are completely alone facing groups of bar drunks. That statement was manipulated into a general condemnation of every person who drinks. Anyhow, I have to remind you that personal opinions, what so ever they are, are considered a form of freedom of expression that is lawful and cannot be a reason for legal condemnation. However, I did not state a personal opinion, but, a fact of life. The extreme anger of the mentioned prosecutor and judge with me as I had been giving my testimony gave me the impression that both were defending themselves and personal habits, in addition to their personal loyalties to their business partners within the local legal mafia and not to the illusive “Justice“.

The police officer had to justify why he entered my home without my permission or a court order, especially, that he had no reason to do so. He said that I grabbed his uniform and pulled him inside my home. In that (invented) case, he had not breached any law that he protected. As I accused the officer of lying and counted the number of his lies, the judge had delivered his final stupid proof of disqualification to occupy such a position. He said: “We don’t lie”. That was a constitutional breach from someone whose position must have allowed him to know the Canadian Constitution. The core of the democratic system is, only in theory, the separation of government branches to allow the judicial one to check and hold the executive (federal/provincial/municipal) branches of government accountable for their conduct. The mentioned judge pronounced himself including the judicial branch as a part of “We” that included the lying police officer and his employer, an executive branch of the government. The judge did not fear any accountability and breached, himself, the Canadian Constitution not dreading me holding him accountable for his clear violation of the country’s constitution. Well, you can go to the official records and hold me accountable for my claims. The Case No. is: 061435848P101001-002, 30 April 2007, Police File No.: 06018251, Date: 22 November 2006). The problem here is not only the infestation of corruption in every vital tissue of the Canadian democracy, but also, its shamelessness as in the banana republics. Canada has never claimed to belong to that league of nations. The last incompetency to be a Canadian judge is being stupid; you must have a minimum level of intelligence to be able to play the government games without such immature mistakes. Forget about justice and such propaganda rhetoric. The honorable judge did not hide his bias nor that he belonged to the same entity such as the criminal police officer. What did he mean with “We”? May be, he meant the group of white people or of European origins, the conquerors, the superiors! Did he mean, “We”, government employees? Did he mean, “We”, the superior class, or the Untouchables? Did he mean with “We” the group of friends, mafia members, or may be the group of people who scratch each other’s’ backs. All that is illegal according to the Canadian Constitution and a violation by its formal protectors. But, who knew that an inferior taxi driver would cause much trouble to the lower classes of the Untouchables? The Untouchables are the group of people in every society who are practically above the law. Since “We” did not lie nor breach any law nor the Canadian Constitution, I was convicted for Constable Lyle Millhouse’s perjury on behalf of the executive branch of the Canadian Government and declared an official criminal who resisted arrest by a noble and innocent Canadian police officer. The banana legal performance was not any better than the American performance of accusing Iraq of having weapons of mass destruction. The only difference had been that the eyes of the entire World were not pointed at Judge F W Coward so that he thought he could get away with anything he wanted under the protection of all his governmental democratic peers (conspirators). Convicting me had to be based on a proof of guilt and there was none, except, the judges attitude, feelings, and prearranged agreements with his peers of the local police and prosecution. From the point of view of an inferior taxi driver, he should have never been appointed a judge. Well, how many more are out there like him? I believe that most of them are like him principally based on the concept of a Banana Republic. Are there any honest judges and government employees in Canada? I believe yes, but that would not make any difference because the democratic concept is infested with corruption that is much stronger than any individual decency and honesty. What do you think about the Canadian democratic revenge? Are they going to send me again to jail? But, what jail is going to accept me to report and analyze everything I would experience. I am dangerous for such an environment. The perfect democratic solution would be a democratic assassination in the form of a car accident or a similar event. I, still, have another important article that is dealing with the bigger picture to publish before such a solution. If they make the mistake and wait for me until having it published, I will be satisfied to go and leave the new Empire of Sodom and Gomorrah.

I had experienced only a few Canadian judges. Justice was not their ultimate concern or even a priority although the entire system, within which they operate, is called the Canadian “Justice” System! I have, also, noticed the bad manners of most of them; they were behaving like Gods on Earth although they used the toilet like every other human being to poop such a stuff that Gods do not defecate. All of them were copies of the honorable Judge F W Coward. The above mentioned judge had provided a clear example of what I wanted to explain, of course, in addition to Justice W. Vaughn Hembroff, the kind man who had sent me on a vacation to the Lethbridge “Correctional” Center costing the Canadian tax payers $52,000, if the stats say $62,000 a year. No one had ever been so generous with me like him, financially I mean. Mr., sorry, his Honor, I mean his Holiness Judge Coward asked me with all the arrogance that his vanity could charge whether I would follow (respect,abide by, believe in, or something like that) the law and pay the $1,000 fines he imposed on me to for crimes I had not committed implying that I could not mess with the Untouchables like himself and police officers! Allow me your Holiness to tell you that your performance had been shamelessly corrupt, I mean banana, as you yourself could not even act as if you knew and respected the constitutionof the country that had made you a Holy judge.

Mr., sorry, Honorable Justice W. Vaughn Hembroff agreed with his colleague, Judge F W Coward that “We do not lie”. He denied that his colleague would do any mistake because he had been a good man who had arrived to the town (Lethbridge) at the same time as he did. That was a very strong logic from a Justice position. He, also, disagreed with me that a police officer would lie, although, “no one is perfect”. He could not look into my eyes while saying that statement that caused me some confusion because I took it a little bit more seriously than I should have. The two statements were contradicting. The police do not lie, but, no one is perfect. The second statement deleted the effect of the first one. That man sent me to jail and did not give a damn about justice. Well, he said go to the appeal court, because, he was tired of the two-week trial. A retrial was too much for him. He was not paid enough to serve justice. He was paid to serve the legal system. There is a difference. Do not expect any of the above mentioned “accused” to agree with me. The quality of their lives is more important that the illusive justice. Keep an eye on me because I might disappear soon!

A BUTTERFLY AMONG THE DRAGONS

On the 225^th day of my sentence and the 7^th day of my transfer to Unit One, a new (for me) female guard started her afternoon/evening shift at 3:00 p.m. I remembered her as I had just one encounter with her during my complete isolation inside the terror section inside Unit One while I was on my second hunger strike. Once, I called using the cell’s intercom to ask for something that I do not remember anymore. In contrast to the other beasts occupying human bodies, she did not refuse, brought what I needed, was kind and polite, and even I saw sympathy in her face.

As soon as I remembered that incident, I went to her in the office after she had just started her late shift and said: “I am new and would like to say hello”. She said that she had seen me recently on corridor. I said that I remembered her from the time when I was kept in the horrors’ section of Unit One and that she was kind to me. She said that she and most of her colleagues believed that I was innocent and that I should have not been in jail. She had the courage to disagree and to express her difference with her employer (the Government of the Canadian Province of Alberta) and with the Government Canada, as well. I was more than touched. She had not been a common mercenary who sold his or her soul to his or her pay master. She had been very intelligent, honest, conscience, objective, fair, calm, polite, cultured, civilized, respectful, kind to everyone, and therefore, liked by everybody. All those unique characters have given her full control over the unit’s inmates. I loved, respected, and kept returning to chat with her. I was not the only one and missed her very much after being released from jail. Well, Canadians say: “What goes around comes around”. You cannot be a human monster and expect, at the same time, to be liked or respected. She had been one of the most successful guards (caseworkers) I had met and she loved her job. I hated to hear that, but she did. She saw herself as a servant for the prisoners supervised by her. She was always busy because she had been serving their needs. That was very exceptional for a government employee. It takes a very hard work and honesty to earn love and respect, and even to be missed.

In regard to her co-workers’ opinion of my innocence and that I should have not been in jail, I have never had such an impression. All what they cared about was their paychecks, but, my perception could have been wrong. I do make mistakes, too, not only judges and lawyers. I discovered that she was my caseworker. You do not know what a good luck that had been. I felt that I owed her my life for her belief that I had been wrongfully convicted and courage to express it to me. It was impossible to miss her uniqueness in the darkness of the jail’s brutality and its general guards’ inhumanity and incivility.

To be honest, she was not the first one to tell me about her belief that I was innocent and that that prison was not the right place for me to be. The other person was an old friend who was a higher ranking jail’s official whom I knew years before he started his jail’s career. I felt the same towards him with the difference that he had a strong reason justifying his opinion. That was many years of acquaintanceship that allowed him to judge my behavior and character. She did not have such an experience, yet, dared to disagree with the entire legal system. Have you met someone like her?

That was not everything about her, yet. She asked me later whether I wanted to apply for the Temporary Absence Program that allowed an early discharge up to 60 days prior to the official release date administered by the provincial jail’s authority. I said no because I did not want to go through the same agony of retrying and condemning me above the courts’ convictions by the Banana Parole Board of Canada. She responded that she wanted to study my file and advise me, something never happened by another case worker. I trusted and gave her all the documents about my case including the character assassination by the mentioned banana organization that she could have not had on her own as it is protected under the Canadian Privacy Act. In return for such a unique creature among the human terminators of the Castle of Horrors and Terror, I wanted her to have the most objective picture about me. In other words; I did not want to fool her in any way abusing the purity of her personality and soul.

After she studied all the mentioned documents and interviewed me for over an hour, her belief of my innocence had not changed. I believe that her conviction had been confirmed after seeing the evidence of my claim. The strongest one had been the transcript of the lawyer’s blank defense in contrast to my own defense after being condemned. She decided to apply on my behalf for the mentioned Temporary Absence and to support the application. She was very serious about her job and mission of serving the convicts under her. Her attitude and action were another proof of her courage and uniqueness. I have to explain the point of her courage, here. If I had been approved for the early release under certain conditions, which had never happened, and breached them, she would have been responsible mainly for causing my release. That was the reason for most other caseworkers for not getting involved in any of such early releases to avoid any responsibility and risking their important careers. She was an exception to that general human cowardice and apathy. During my 303-day punishment in the Castle of Horrors and Terror, I had five caseworkers, most of whom were as good as dead. If anyone would be able to play any reforming role in the lives of criminals; that would be someone like her. Anyhow, such very few decent individuals’ positive effects get lost within the monstrous corrupt system. I agreed to let her apply for that thing. Her attitude, belief, and actions were much more important than the mentioned Temporary Absence. I had never got a single day early release and never asked her about it. I did not want her to feel that that early release had been of any importance to me. That would have added an extra stress on the beautiful soul. She cared about everything that happened around her and took that with her home. I made sure that she knew that I did not care about the outcome of the mentioned application. I never asked her about it until my formal regular release.

13 days (not another number) after my arrival to Unit One, I was moved to the single-bunk cell number One that was facing the unit’s office, the common hall with tables and seats, and beside the large laundry room because Johnny put my name, instantly after my transfer, on the waiting list for one of the 6 available single bed rooms. At that time, only, those cells were kept single most of the time, a condition that changed after the addition of an extra bed to every single-bunk cell in the entire prison during the last weeks of my sentence. Single bunk cells in all other units were filled with two inmates, one of whom slept on the floor.

I enjoyed my single room for the following 9 days and kept it clean and shiny because that unit had the privilege of having floor wax available in addition to the accessibility to the cleaning supplies and tools without restrictions. On the 239^th day of my imprisonment, the jammed Alberta jails caused the deterioration of the life quality inside the privileged Unit One by increasing its maximum capacity and filling all the 6 single-bunk cells with an extra inmate to sleep on the floor. My new roommate had been 29-year old Ken from Unit 6 and a local Lethbridge resident. As always, every newcomer needed some information about the new environment for orientation and I did the job again.

Four days later, Dixon, one of the least liked guards and the most vulgar among all of them was replacing my dear caseworker, Sharon Koot. Her absence was a very unpleasant event and no one could replace her lovely soul. I knew Dixon very well as he was a regular Unit 5 guard, where I spent most of my democratic punishment inside that “correctional” institution. Without telling Ken anything about Dixon, he disliked him instantly like everyone else. Dixon had a sick soul and spent most of his busy time solving newspaper puzzles in Unit 5. He hated to be approached by any inmate. He had a big problem dealing with people and most probably he would never be successful in any job he would occupy because of his zero people skills. There was no doubt that his attitude towards the prisoners was very negative in contrast to someone like Sharon Koot. She came in the next morning to her regular day shift. It was the first time for Ken to see her. He asked me how she was. The contradiction among both co-workers was so drastic that I had no choice except giving him a short, but, meaningful answer. I said: “She is a butterfly”. Ken understood, smiled, and left without the need for any further explanation.

ALI BABA AND THE GANG

Ali Baba arrived to Unit One on the same day I moved into it, too. He was a 30-year old small and weak man from a Third World country and belonged to a minority that was oppressed and massacred by a tyrant who was supported, financed, and armed by the proud Western Democracies among other nations. Ali Baba and some of his family members, had, therefore, been granted a refugee status in Canada. He had never gone to a school and lived in the darkness of his ignorance, especially, in the developed country of Canada. In his homeland, his nation was occupied with the concern of surviving the annihilation they were facing at the hand of the Democratic World’s friend and oppressor. He missed twelve years of the standard education that almost every Canadian has had. Some members of the underprivileged Canadian classes do not finish all the 12 years of the basic education, but, almost no one has been analphabetic like Ali Baba. He could not read and write in any language including his own native tongue.

He was perceived and described as retarded because of his lack of understanding and reacting to the outside stimuli, but, he was not. In contrast, he was genetically very intelligent because no one could beat him in the backgammon game that required calculations and strategizing. Yet, his lack of education has allowed him to reach only the minimum of his genetic potential. Although he had a very superficial understanding of what was happening around him, he was, however, very pleasant and smiling all the time. His backgammon partners, including me, were often mad because no one could defeat him. He kept playing as long as he was winning, but, when his opponent succeeded at last to beat him, he quit. Nevertheless, most of us liked and tried to protect him!

Some inmates with good hearts supported and gave him extra food, as he did not have any resources, and made sure that he did not miss any meal because of lack of understanding of the English announcements. It is important to note here that I had never experienced any charity from the very well paid guards towards the very needy inmates. Only criminals supported the poor ones among them. Can you explain that to me? Criminals were charitable and civil servants had never been. I am not surprised. Other inmates laughed at and disrespected him and swore the Canadian Government for wasting their tax money on people such as retarded Ali Baba. Others kept an eye on those convicts who insulted him to make sure that no one crossed the line of the mean behavior to abuse. Some tried to teach him the alphabetic, but, he refused because he, also, had never learnt the attitude to learn which requires a lot of other qualities such as patience, persistence, and hard work. His excuse was that he did not like it (learning). We have tried hardly, but, failed.

Ali Baba wondered the accommodation, food, shower, health care, medicine, and sports facilities offered to everyone (for free) inside the prison. It was a jail of a developed country that was different than that of an underdeveloped state.

On the 250^th day of my sentence, Johnny asked me at 7:30 p.m. to stay away from Ali Baba because he used to play with me backgammon as he did with others, too. I asked why. Johnny said that a group of prisoners were planning to beat him up and then force him to leave the unit because some other inmate had accused him of having been involved in a sexual offence earlier in another jail. That kind of a crime was an intolerable sin for criminals themselves. They found themselves obliged to prosecute, judge, and punish anyone who had been blamed to have committed such an unforgivable super crime. I knew all that in theory, but, have never believed in or agreed with such a sick and criminal thinking. Despite my deep knowledge of the cancerous democratic corruption, an ignorant undereducated criminal could not replace the state’s institutions that spend hundreds of millions of dollars every year to study, identify, investigate, charge, prosecute, judge, and then punish crimes and criminals within the state’s and the nation’s system of values and culture. Nor could a few individuals inside a jail force their own value system upon the entire society as the jail itself is a part of the larger society and cannot be allowed to function as an illegal state within the larger outside nation. The criminals’ system of justice had been criminality that needed any (illegal) justification to be committed. I cannot leave that serious internal illegal world of crime described deceptively as Canadian “Correctional” Centers without pointing out the impotency of the state and its complicity in creating and maintaining the mentioned internal world of criminality. During my 303 days as a guest with one of the Canadian “Correctional” Centers, I have never learned that there have been any social, legal, cultural, and psychological education by the state’s agents declaring to and teaching inmates and offenders openly and formally the moral and legal principles, attitudes, and behavior that the state expected them to follow. The Government has provided an absolute vacuum for its criminal victims allowing them to be engulfed by the laws and morals of crime and lawlessness. In other words, no state’s representative, for example the prison’s director, had ever lectured his slaves (openly and formally) about the legal, social, cultural, and behavioral environment that he considered correct and expected all of them to follow. Nor did he tell the same slaves what tools the state intended to use to enforce its will upon the will of the criminals’ world and that the states legality will prevail, not the code of crime and criminals. No official had dared to offer a legal advice openly to prisoners in regard to what to do if they did not want to follow the laws of crime and criminals. The legal, social, and psychological emptiness offered by the state had left no alternative to each and every prisoner except to follow the criminals’ code of conduct and ethics. In different words, if you are not a criminal, but, forced to be confined in one of the Canadian “Correctional” Centers, you have no choice, but, to become a criminal. The only party to blame is the Canadian state offering lawless pockets within the Canadian society while bragging about its level of civility among nations of the World. The Canadian state’s representatives are not interested in law, justice, human rights, and Canadians’ everyday concerns, but, busy with satisfying their own personal self-serving interests.

Judge F W Coward and his business partners had been the opinion that I should not interfere when observing a crime about to happen and let the police deal with the situation. There was no police inside the jail and asking guards to help would result, if caught by the prisoners, to become labeled as an informer. In that case, the government would not know what to do to protect me. I would be transferred from one jail to another or end in a completely isolated cell such as the ones I occupied during my punishment for the two hunger strike rebellions and the one that Ali Baba would experience later.

Because corrupt Judge F W Coward and his untouchable friends are stupid, rotten, and untrustworthy, I had to act as I believed right in that monstrous democratic jungle. More important had been that the Almighty will judge me according to his simple and clear laws and not according the corrupt laws/politics of the democratic Empire of Sodom and Gomorrah.

My first argument had been refusing to accept the reliability of someone’s accusation against a person who could not speak, understand, or defend himself. It was possible that the reason for such accusations had been the dislike of the accuser to the accused and past hostility among both of them. That argument was convincing to some extent and resulted in gaining the support of vital three inmates including Johnny. A total of four defenders including myself was an important physical protection for Ali Baba. Nevertheless, the gang members, who had been terrorizing the entire unit for a while, were not convinced and insisted on the reliability of their sources that Ali Baba was involved in a rape offense inside another jail. I have to emphasize, here, the state’s corruption that allows its jails to be lawless grounds inside the Canadian state by not applying the countries laws inside those Castles of Horrors and Terror. If there would have been a rape crime against one of the convicts under the custody and protection of the Canadian Government somewhere, where had the low enforcement powers and justice system of the mentioned country been inside that prison? The “correctional” authorities, practically, do not allow professional law enforcement agencies and agents to investigate all crimes committed inside the monstrous prisons making them the optimum environment for committing crimes and escaping legal consequences. The jail employees are not professional investigators, prosecutors, and judges. Their only proficiency is being man keepers that does not permit them to replace all the outside law enforcement agencies, which they do. People take the law in their hands when justice is not served, is that not right Honorable Judge F W Coward? I do not think that you care about anything except your vanity, paycheck, and connections within the legal mafia. Could you ever imagine that someone would challenge you so openly? Freedom of expression is legal; is it not? I responded that whatever their sources might have been trustworthy for them; they were not reliable for me. Further, I did not recognize anyone’s right to replace the “qualified legal system” that was supposed to be run by professionals and experts and costs the taxpayers hundreds of millions of dollars every year to exist. I kept the corruption component of that legal business to myself.

A deadlock had been reached and the time of maneuvering was expired. The time for action imposed itself; and people like me had to show what they can. Masters of the worldwide Empire of Sodom and Gomorrah had never succeed in subduing me, nor had I ever been shy of pulling a lion’s tongue outside of his mouth, if that had been necessary. I made it clear that I would protect Ali Baba physically, if anyone would want to touch him. I warned everyone that I would cause serious physical harm to anyone who would choose violence and aggression. Please note that what I am reporting is not a Hollywood movie, but, real life events. Hollywood courage and heroism is manipulated inventions to impress, brain wash your mind, and collect your money. My four (they were eight counts) formal convictions of assault with a weapon causing bodily harm, of course, not for the purpose of self-defense, supported my threats and caused the gang members to dismiss any violent plans. Another three courageous inmates decided to contribute to Ali Baba’s physical defense and that was a serious physical barrier that eliminated any violent resolution. I have to make it clear, here, that my protection to that guy was not defending his innocence because I did not know whether he was innocent. It was protecting him from unfair and unqualified prosecution because the corrupt state suspended its laws and institutions inside its jails, except, the routine holy sadist inspections of its slaves’ genitals. The striptease rapes had been the rule that could never be suspended. I just wonder what a labeled banana republic would do differently in the field of violating human logic, decency, and respect of human rights.

One of the unsound arguments was punching Ali Baba to scare him so that he would seek leaving the unit on his own without any further harm. I responded that many criminal plans start like that and, then, end with a murder or serious physical consequences. Everyone involved would be in that case a complicit.

The gang demanded the removal of Ali Baba from the unit. I had no choice but to accept because we could not protect him to the end of his sentence term. Do not forget that we were animals in cages that could have been relocated from one confinement to another instantly without a previous notice. Two of the protective prisoners were to be released within a week. Such an accusation meant a verdict of guilt, at the same time, and Ali Baba would never be safe anywhere in a Canadian jail. He had to be isolated for his own protection. Prisoners inside a particular jail and within the entire country have their own very efficient communication systems. News spread inside the jail as they happened through inmate librarians and cleaners who met prisoners from all the prison’s units. Not only verbal and written messages (kites), but also, drugs had been transferred among the jail’s inmates. Love messages from male to female convicts and the opposite were, also, mailed using the mentioned internal illegal post service. In addition, inmates moved from one unit and one jail to another. Information circulated with them. Phone calls were also a significant means of the exchange of information and the reason for consequent actions within the entire country.

While the Ali Baba battle was unfolding, he was watching TV among members of the same gang who were planning to assault and kick him out of the unit. He had no clue about what was going around him. He could never be engaged in or understand any conversation that required more than a few simple words. I tried to explain to him the situation and let him not leave my eyes’ sight, but, he could not comprehend the complexity of the crisis. He thought that some people wanted to fight him and he wanted to fight them back. He was not joking and I did not laugh. The courageous Brian sat with him to protect him while I was negotiating with the gang whose members did not understand that Ali Baba’s removal could not occur in the dark, as they wished, by him asking the guard to relocate him to another unit, as that was the common way in similar circumstances. That guard was busy on the phone for hours talking to friends or relatives, while everything was unfolding in front of his own eyes, but, he noticed nothing because he was busy with the personal phone call. His attention would have helped very much. Ali Baba would have never been able to cooperate with the gang for his own safety for lack of understanding. His cooperation would leave the gang members in the dark untouched and protected by the secrecy imposed by the criminals’ code of conduct. Ali Baba’s educational and language limitations made it impossible for him to understand the complex criminal culture and seriousness of the threat he was facing. Later, I was told by former inmates with Ali Baba in another jail, that the above mentioned story was not the first trouble he had faced because of his educational limitations that did not allow him to understand the complexity of the Canadian criminal world. My action had not been the first Heaven’s interference to protect him in the Empire of Sodom and Gomorrah. Heavens did not equip him to face such a brutal World; therefore, it had been more generous to him than with others.

The only possible action had been approaching the sleeping guard by someone else, myself, and asking him to remove Ali Baba for his own safety without any further inquiry. Johnny did not like sex offenders and agreed that they were dangerous criminals that should have not been allowed to be present with the general public of criminals. He and I used to have very fiery discussions almost every day about everything. However, we loved and respected each other to the maximum because our very close companionship in a very small confinement had shown both of us how honorable both of us have been. The honor I am talking about of two criminals is impossible to be possessed by agents of the Empire of Sodom and Gomorrah such as judges, prosecutors, police officers, Prime Ministers, and all the countless Untouchables for the simple reason of their involvement in the politics that make it possible for all of them to occupy their offices without being corrupt. They commit the highest levels of crimes without being caught or held accountable because of the conspiracy of the mass media owned by the hidden masters of the democratic world. Johnny, in fact, took my side to protect me, as I had actually no social life with almost everyone around me because of my intention not waste a minute of my precious life in useless opportunistic illusive human relations that served no purpose for me. The outcome had been my ability to write and publish this story instead of futile chatting with everyone around me. The price of such an attitude could have been grave because social life with convicts is one of the most important elements of protection against criminal attacks. The more a prisoner had social connections with everyone else, the more he had been protected from aggression and violence. I practiced the opposite of such a policy. Johnny was a friend to almost everyone and enjoyed almost unlimited protection socially. In addition, he was strong and could very well repel almost any violent aggression against him, but, he also, wanted to avoid violence by all means. I told you, an honorable man. As a loyal friend, his social connections with almost every convict had provided me with an indirect and invaluable protection by propagating to all his acquaintances that I was a good guy. A good guy in what regard did not matter. His social support to me played a significant role in balancing my almost complete isolation and lack of social life that I did not want to immerse myself in. I have to confess that I am paranoid with the idea of using every available moment of my life in the most productive and valuable activity. Being in jail had put lots of restrains on that principle as jail is a legal punishment by corrupt Untouchables to waste those priceless moments of my life while they were enjoying their golfing, prestige, and wine. Johnny took my side to provide me with physical protection because anyone who wanted to punish me for my crime of protecting “the sex offender” had to deal with him at the same time. Moreover, when I approached the sleeping guard and woke him up from his personal conversation on the phone in front of every convict of unit One, Johnny followed me to be as involved so that any future retribution had to involve him, as well. The gang members were very mad that the situation had reached such an open approach. However, they were extremely lucky because of the involvement of the mentioned guard with his personal life at the expense of the taxpayers so that he did not notice who did what as everything was happening in front of his own eyes in the very small unit. His attention would have allowed him to know every involved person and the entire situation. He did not have the attitude that he was there to serve the low cast of the society in contrast to the Butterfly who thought that she had a very serious function to perform in the Castle of Horrors and Terror. That is why she loved her job because she had a mission to perform.

As the guard was being informed that Ali Baba’s safety was endangered and had to be removed from the unit at once, he got very mad, because he realized that he was not running the unit, but, members of the mentioned gang who were deciding who could stay and who should go. The gang had violated the nature of Unit One as a privileged environment rewarding past good behavior in other units, not for super criminality and bulling everyone else. In fact, that gang was terrorizing everyone in the unit and causing extreme tension that spread fear among everyone who minded only his own business. Ali Baba was the second person to be removed for his safety as a result of the gang’s desire and terror. The first victim was punched a few days earlier and ordered to leave the unit because of failing to pay his debt resulted from losing his gamble with one of the gang’s members. Please, note that gambling is illegal in Canadian jails, only in theory. The prohibition of such illegality is not enforced, so seriously, in contrast to the holy genitals’ inspections of every state’s slave by the abnormal enforcers.

Ali Baba was spared any physical violation, but, could not be spared the absolute segregation that accompanied him until his release. The gang members were not only terrorizing every inmate of unit One, but also, involved in smuggling, distribution, and consumption of illegal drugs and tobacco inside the entire jail as all its members were allowed to work outside the jail’s building and had the opportunity to contact the outside World, although they were classified as minimum security risk. As mentioned earlier, working for the Government, and especially, outside the jail was not based on a charitable attitude but mutual interests. Smuggling was exactly the main purpose for the slave workers. A very few might have enjoyed the possibility to enjoy the outside World instead of the complete isolation inside the jail. The Government needed the free slaves’ work. Both cooperated very nicely within the principle of mutual benefits and within the legality of the democratic Empire of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Ali Baba did not want to leave the unit where he was comfortable, had lots of friends, and wanted to fight his unknown enemies back. Nevertheless, he had been removed instantly for his safety and given a cell inside the double isolated terror area within Unit One. That was not a punishment as it was the case with me. Within a few days, the Butterfly discovered that his mental condition deteriorated very much from the absolute isolation and the incapability to practice any activity the jail was willing to provide him because his inability to read or write. He was suffering from depression. That was the reason for his transfer to a cell within the double segregated area of the Health Care Unit where he could watch TV for a few hours a day and watch the nurses and guards moving around outside the enclosed area. The Butterfly, who was his caseworker, tried everything possible to make his life easier, but, I do not think that that was possible. He spent the remaining time of his sentence in the isolation inside the Health Care Unit. It was easy to know that because that Unit was the most visited by all prisoners who saw him behind the glass windows.

On the next day of Ali Baba’s removal, Brian, the defending inmate, who stayed with him during my negotiations with the gang, while everyone else stuck his head in the sand, and committed himself openly to his physical defense, got punched in his face by one of the gang’s members and instructed to leave the unit, but, he did not. Brian had been the second one to be assaulted and the third one to be ordered by the same gang to leave the unit within five consecutive days. On the following day, he was challenged openly by another gang member in front of the unit’s Butterfly to fight inside a closed cell or the bathroom. She locked both of them instantly as she was very alert as a lioness in contrast to her co-worker who did not give a damn about anything around him. Note how she was alert and had turned from a butterfly into a lioness instantly. After an investigation by a supervisor, the gang member was returned to his original Unit 6. That meant that he lost his privileged status of the minimum level of security and any possibility of an early release. Brian was transferred to a cell in the Health Care Unit to be released two days later as his sentence expired formally. I regret not having the opportunity to say goodbye to such an honorable man. Unit One stayed very tense during the following days until all remaining members of the gang were removed to the holes of the maximum security holes of Unit 2 as they were caught smuggling drugs into the jail after their phone calls had been intercepted during the battle of Ali Baba. The smuggled drugs were found outside the jail where the smugglers arranged to pick them up and confiscated. The punishment had been a few days in the famous hole as usual.

WHO IS CRIMINAL CANADA?

On the 260^th day of my sentence, all the gang members of Unit One had been locked in inside their individual cells and prevented from leaving the jail to work outside. That time was used to seize the package of drugs they had arranged to pick up outside, smuggle into the jail, and, then, sell to all the prison’s inmate consumers. The system of distribution had internal dealers inside the different units of the jail and smugglers and dealers had their effective communication system that allowed the transfer of information and drugs among all the “Correctional” Center’s prisoners. After the evidence had been found, they were removed from Unit One, one after another, at around 11:30 a.m. to land in the “hole” cells of Unit 2 as a punishment, a very nice, low risk penalty for smuggling drugs without any legal consequences known to the outside world. I noticed that Johnny, who put his life at risk for law and order, even if that was for my protection, was being removed, too. I asked the guard about the reason for removing Johnny. He lied saying that Johnny was the brain behind the drug smuggling project. He hated Johnny very much and spoke very badly about him without knowing him at all. I could not figure out a reason for that. Johnny was not involved in any illegal activity, nor did he have any plans to do so. If anyone would know Johnny’s secrets, that would be me. I was his friend and we trusted each other. He refused to cooperate earlier with a really professional drug dealer and smuggler who could never be caught by the Government. He had no reason to cooperate with amateur criminals. The same guard was the same sleeping one who came to jail to spend some fun time as he was on the phone during the negotiations to protect Ali Baba from the gang. In reality, there was no reason to accuse Johnny of any illegal activity in contrast to the evidence against the gang’s members. The mentioned guard had been working for the same jail for 29 years without any desire for any promotion because he did not like to work or to have more responsibilities. He came to work for the pay check and to spend some fun time. However, he was a nice man and I liked to talk to him. I had a past experience with him from my second hunger strike rebellion as I spent it in the double segregated terror area within Unit One. He tried hardly to change my mind to cease the hunger strike. But, he advised me that I was wrong in regard to my religion’s rules and principles. Anyhow, he was not the only one who thought that he was qualified to lecture me about my own religion since he was a civil servant and I was a state’s slave. His word after 29 years of service as a man keeper was good enough to convince the security department of the jail that Johnny was involved in the drug smuggling. The removal of Johnny was a considerable crime against him and his safety. It was not only a fabrication, a crime for itself, but endangering his life. Johnny had protected an accused sex offender. That was a crime under the criminal’s code of conduct and ethics. All four persons who protected Ali Baba had violated the holy constitution of criminals. That had made us as violators as Ali Baba himself. Johnny’s return to Unit 5 after the wrongful imprisonment in the hole for 5 days had exposed him to the process of the criminals’ justice. He was attacked physically, but, could repel his attackers and prevailed. Physical victory inside jails is final, but, what if he lost? What would have happened to him? I cannot answer that question and leave it to the criminal Untouchables who ran the prison. Johnny complained against that guard and got him in some trouble. The guard used his influence again and put Johnny in cell number 13 inside the Health Care Unit without water for the last two days before his release as revenge. 26 days later, I was returned to Unit 5 as the jail’s authority was adding an extra bed to every single bunk cell to increase the prison’s capacity, not to two prisoners per room, but, three inmates for each cell to relieve the other congested Alberta jails. My removal from that unit was a significant threat for my safety like Johnny as I was the main accused sex offender’s protector. Johnny’s physical victory against the protectors of the criminals’ code of conduct and ethics spared me going through his experience. I can only conclude that the state is criminal to an unimaginable extent and that the Government spends most of its energy covering up its criminality with the co-operation of the free mass media owned by the hidden real masters of the democratic Empire of Sodom and Gomorrah.

Let me tell you the story of two neighbors who met in the jail where I was kept as a slave for 303 days. One of them, who was my roommate, sold, legally, products exempt from tax to native Canadians, who had the right to buy goods exempt from the state’s taxes as a part of the price they had received for selling their land to the new European occupiers. Anyhow, they did not have the option to refuse the deal. My former native Peigan roommate made only $10 extra profit for each box of the illegal cigarettes sold to nonnative customers, illegally. The buyers saved large sums of money unlawfully. The seller ended in jail after being reported to the police by two of his customers because he refused to sell them more than they wanted. The customers were very greedy and resold the cheap illegal cigarettes for $60-70 extra profit for each box. The complainers did not end in jail although they violated the same law, as well, and made more profits than the seller, who was a native Canadian in contrast to the informers who were white ones. It is very easy to discriminate against native people in Canada. One of the illegal customers has been a jail’s guard who bought regularly from his neighbor a box of cigarettes for $55 saving $60-70 of the legal price. However, he had never complained and did not end in jail as a common criminal, but, kept going to work as a guard as the master of his neighbor who sold him the very cheap illegal cigarettes. If you smoke, would you buy a box of cigarettes for $55 instead of $125, if you could?

WHY BETRAYAL, ART LARSON???

The lawyer who sold me out was over 60 years old; one of the most experienced lawyers in the field of criminal law in town, and had a very good reputation. As a taxi driver, I had the opportunity to meet an endless number of local residents and ask about him. Never had anyone told me anything negative about him. One of the customers told me that that lawyer got his guilty father and uncle acquitted although, in fact, they had committed the crimes they were accused of. They were wealthy and paid the lawyer well. That was what he cared about. I paid him what he wanted. His performance defending me did not reflect such an image and experience; nor could it have been a result of a mistake of not knowing the rules of the court. Had he made a mistake and simply dumped me like hitting a parked vehicle with his car and then escaping hoping that no one had noticed him? He told the judge while withdrawing from representing me that he had 36 years of experience behind him, but, my rebellion against him was the first of its kind. That length of practice as a lawyer would make it impossible to believe that he had gone to the court without knowing the rules, even, after they had been changed during the three years, within which he did not perform in front of a jury. Later, when I taxed him (a court clerk’s evaluation of his bill), he repeated that he did not want to annoy members of the jury with a lengthy defense. Not even a monkey would buy that retarded argument. His action would fit perfectly a bribed man. Did he not care about his reputation as I had very well tarnished it as much as I could? Apparently, that did not bother him much as he had been about to retire. Was the price of selling me out so high to risk ruining his image? Did he think that no one would notice the betrayal? Did he underestimate what his victim could do as revenge? Well, immortalizing his name on the eternal internet is not a small thing. He and I are going to die, but, this story will live documenting everything I have experienced and reported. I have had no doubt–and anyone who studied the documents–that the man sold me out and played the role of a retarded lawyer. However, I spent my entire sentence thinking of a reason.

Did he know someone of my opponent drunks and their families and wanted to pay them an illegal compliment. Some people dare committing crimes without being afraid of being caught such as members of the same mafia. I am talking here about the local legal mafia.

Some inmates have told me that lawyers and prosecutors close secret deals to set the legal stage so that some accused get acquitted at the expense of others who get convicted and land in jails. Both groups pay the lawyers, anyway, unaware of the underground deals. The lucky ones are supposed to be more profitable such as significant drug dealers. According to that theory, I must have been assigned to the loosing group. Justice is not an element of the mentioned equation, nor is it an element of the so called Canadian “Justice” System. You might disagree and you are entitled to your opinion, if you had not to perform the striptease shows I had to please the Canadian Government agents, and if you had not lost your dignity, ten months of your life, tens of thousands of dollars as a result of the financial ruin the Canadian Governments have caused me, and your family. The mentioned theory assumes that the Canadian legal system is nothing but a legal mafia. I have to agree, although, I do not know about the underground deals. That theory has a weak point. During my entire ten-month very rich jail experience, I have not met a single convict who claimed innocence like me. Everyone had done something and admitted it to his fellow convicts. I have to mention that there have been victims of the same legal mafia and its conspiracies. However, it is not a common way to dump innocent people in the Canadian terror institutions. Of course, every government employee would jump into my face comparing the civility of the Canadian jails with others in foreign countries including the USA. Anyhow, the USA is not my current God. I have to conclude that I had been a unique exception. However, that does not provide a reason for the conspiracy to convict me unjustly.

The strongest theory I could think of must be the democratic revenge against my websites where I write my articles analyzing democracy, its hidden rulers, policies, and much more of the unknown aspects of that brutal regime. Sending me on a vacation to one of Canada’s “Correctional” Centers must have been an early warning from the hidden masters of the Democratic Empire of Sodom and Gomorrah to stop analyzing their world openly. Art Larson must have been the right tool. Here are the websites addresses:

Democracy and Holocaust II???,

Zionism,

The Same in Arabic.

Those websites expose democracy completely naked as much as I can within the legal principle of “Freedom of Expression” that, in fact, does not exist. But putting me in jail would not prevent me from continueing my work exposing the democratic corruption. The only democratic way to silence me would be a regular democratic assassination that would appear like a common car accident or any similar event. I think, you still remember the late US president John F. Kennedy. Almost every democratic citizen has no clue why he was assassinated and by whom? Most people will jump saying the assassin was Lee Harvey Oswald. That is not the answer! You can read my article: “Game of Money and Destruction (American Democracy???)” on this, same, website to explore some answers in that regard. Well, you would agree that I am not more powerful than the late President Kennedy.

ART LARSON’S MASTER PIECE OF DEFENSE!!!

Because democracy costs money, my wife had to pay $450, while I was still in jail, to get me the trial’s transcript of my lawyer’s and the state’s prosecutor’s final (practically only) presentations to the jury on the 14^th of January 2010 that resulted in my conviction of guilt and landed me in jail for 303 days. I wanted to make sure that the blank defense my lawyer had provided me was, in fact, empty as I had experienced. The following is the core of his master piece of defense in italics taken from the official trial’s transcript: “…I can tell you in my experience as both a prosecutor and a defense lawyer, this is one of the worst cases I have seen with respect to glaring, significant, irreconcilable discrepancies amongst the Crown witnesses and I’m going to mention a couple right off the bat before I deal with the bulk of the evidence…” (He had never touched the bulk of the mentioned evidence of more than 40 very strong discrepancies in the drunks’ testimonies and a female friend)

“…So, those are the only two that I will mention. There are many others and perhaps you noticed many others. I’m not going to dwell on them because if I did, we could be here for a very long time. But those are two significant ones that, as I say, matter with respect to the disposition of the case…”(You notice how sensible the man had been and did not want to keep the jury for very long, although he spoke for less than half an hour saying nothing. The jurors were forced to spend tow weeks on the trial and could have been made to sacrifice 4 more hours listening to each and every evidence and argument supporting my innocence and a detailed legal explanation of the principle of reasonable doubt that prohibits condemnation if present.)

“…As I’ve already told you, there are many, many other discrepancies with respect to the evidence that has been provided to you by the Crown. It serves no useful purpose, I don’t think, into going into some of those...” (It did not serve any purpose going into only some of them except sending me to jail for 10 months among other severe penalties).

Mr. Larson:” I wonder if I might – excuse me, Sir, be allowed to respond very briefly“. (I still wonder why briefly? Did he have a golfing appointment that he did not want to miss? Was he hungry? Or, had he planned the entire show to get me convicted for a secret reason that only he knows, since he had not been known to belong to the most stupid lawyers in town.)

Mr. Labrenz: “Well, there’s no – no ability to do that, my Lord.”

The Court: “I don’t think there is, Mr. Larson.”

Mr. Larson:”Very well, Sir.” (Very well? May be it was really very well as he had achieved his hidden agenda after playing the theatrical performance of providing the empty defense.)

The Court: “You’ve had your turn and that’s the way the system works. Again, one is inclined to want to do that, but the answer to that question legally is no.”

Mr. Larson: “That’s fine.” (It has been very fine for him, the judge, the prosecutor, and everyone else involved. It was, also, fine for him to have me condemned, spend some time in jail plus some more months of probation in addition to the life-time prohibition from carrying any kind of weapons. Not to mention the criminal record that made it very difficult to find a job after the ruin of my business and made it impossible to cross the border into the USA. It, really, had been very fine. Though, I never carry or own any guns and believe that their availability for public use is very dangerous.)

THE LETHBRIDGE REVENGE

While I was enjoying my forced vacation with the Lethbridge “Correctional” Resort, the city ruling mafia, in co-operation with the city legal mafia, had prepared and enforced a new bylaw custom made for sober criminals, like myself, forbidding them from driving taxi vehicles in the city to protect the city drunks. At last has the city has succeeded in removing the only legal taxi and delivery operator and purified the underground economy from any legal competition. Not only that, but also, the city has secured its drunken customers from the harassment of sober criminals. Drunks are safe now in the City of Lethbridge, come and visit. As a result after my release from the Castle of Horrors and Terror, I was unable to drive my own vehicles because of my (fabricated) violent criminal record. I had to work myself to earn a living because my drivers had not covered even their fair share of the business expenses as the price of being the only legal and humane operator in the city and may be in the democratic North America.

What response from the different branches of the democratic Canadian Governments do you expect? Complete silence, hoping that no one would notice! But, if more Canadians keep visiting this website, reading the mentioned true story, and, for some reason feel unhappy and maybe outraged about any of its content, the Canadian Government might be forced to produce some democratic banana response. Democracy is about the rule of law, of course, only sometimes, in particular circumstances, and only with some subjects. This true story has, also, been about the rule of law in the Banana Republic of Canada. I hope you have enjoyed reading it and remember that it was not produced in Hollywood, but, in the Canadian City of Lethbridge of the Province of Alberta. Thank you for your patience because you have read over 70,000 words. The following chapter might not be of interest to you, but, it is included for history and to be on the record instead of the digital darkness of the Canadian Banana Legal System Archives. If this story have caused you some concern and stimulation about the complex human interlocked relations and their quality, do not miss my next article called: “Human Dogs…The Social Pyramid Structure of Power and Mercinariness“. It is a comparison between human and dog loyalty to their masters throughout the entire human history. It will worry you much more!

MY TOO-LATE DEFENSE

Ahmed El-Meadawy

xx-xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxxx

Lethbridge, AB

xxx xxx

21 January 2010

Honorable Judge Hembroff:

I have noticed that you are a conscientious man and appreciate that you have done everything in your power to provide me with a fair trial.

Mr. Larson has made a disastrous mistake that caused my conviction. He was not aware of one of the court rules that he had only one opportunity to present the defense’s final remarks about my case in front of the jury and that he had no second chance to respond to the final presentation of the Crown Prosecutor. He based his defense strategy on the mistaken knowledge that he had the right to respond to the Crown’s allegations, and did not know that he did not have this opportunity. The result has been my conviction.

A hair stood between a decision of guilt or non-guilt. The Crown Prosecutor did not waste his opportunity to provide the jury with every point he believed against me, explained it in details, and tried to convince the jury with his point of view.

In contrast and based on the false information of a second chance to respond, Mr. Larson has not mentioned and explained every and each contradiction in the testimony of the Crown witnesses. There were tens of them. I have helped him by providing details of such contradictions and all reasons that could have discredited many of the Crown witnesses according to the defense’s position.

Members of the jury were forced by the law to perform a job they did not want that caused them a lot of hardships. Therefore, they were the least interested in the whole process, and were not going to pay ultimate attention to the evidence provided. Therefore, the full extraction of statements and points of interests provided to them by the Crown was most helpful to them to understand his opinion. On the other hand, they were deprived from the same by the defense. He did not extract and explain for them all the contradictions in the Crown witnesses’ testimonies and reasons for discrediting most of them from the defense’s point of view. He decided to provide a very short presentation, and planned to respond to the Crown’s allegations as a second step. The outcome has been my conviction.

Mr. Larson has wasted the most important step during the trial to explain, what only he could explain from the defense’s standpoint. His extraction of facts and contradictions from the Crown witnesses’ statements and even pointing out testimonies that have confirmed my version of the story could have not been presented by any other party except him; and, he did not.

All legal avenues that the law and you have granted me have not been used to avoid the possibility of sending an innocent man to jail and destroying his life, family, and livelihood.

Although you have given all your efforts to provide me with a fair trial, the process of the final remarks by the Crown and defense was unbalanced and caused directly my conviction. All Mr. Larson’s efforts during the cross examination to expose contradictions and weaknesses in the testimonies of the Crown witnesses have been wasted by not counting and explaining every and each of them, and then drawing a conclusion and a theory in contrast to the expected Crown’s theory, of course, of guilt beyond reasonable doubt.

Please remember how much time you, yourself, and both councilors have spent discussing the subject of guilt beyond reasonable doubt. The legal basis for a verdict was absolutely clear for the three of you. To the contrary, your neutral charge (as supposed to be), lack of a defense detailed explanation of the meaning of guilt beyond reasonable doubt, a detailed defense theory of innocence, and a legal recommendation to my benefit has left them with a completely biased background to come with a verdict and incomplete legal understanding of “guilt beyond reasonable doubt”. It is so to say that the only councilor, who told them in a plane language what to do, was the Crown Prosecutor, as your charge must have been neutral and Mr. Larson was almost absent. He left them to remember and extract on their own facts and contradictions in the witnesses’ testimonies. Guilt beyond reasonable doubt was only explained in full to them from the Crown’s point of view. The proof that they lacked a defense explanation and a conclusion of witnesses’ testimonies was their request for transcripts of three witnesses, before producing a verdict.

To the best of my knowledge, I am aware that there is nothing that can be done at the moment except sentencing me, as you have provided all possible avenues for a fair trial, and you are not responsible for the defense’s mistakes, if you ever agree that their had been a mistake. However, since my own lawyer has failed me, I have to use the opportunity that the trial is not yet closed, to provide a defense for myself, even, if it is too late. Please let me make the following statements on the record:

1. I have not committed any crime, but, acted in self defense in response a cruel aggression from the group of intoxicated friends as the evidence has proven that they were intoxicated or extremely intoxicated. Self-defense is a basic human and constitutional right.

2. I have been made an escape goat for others’ mistakes and mischief.

3. Mr. Kern, in his testimony, stated that his friends were aggressive.

4. He, also, stated that no one had touched the driver contradicting the statements provided by both the Walton brothers that there were pushing and shoving. The same statement contradicted the statement of the door man, who affirmed that there was a dog pile of 5-6 persons and a fight among all involved including the taxi driver. He, also, confirmed that the driver was chased by the group of friends.

5. The Crown Prosecutor constructed his theory around the assumption that Mr. Kern and Mr. Brooks were not extremely intoxicated, when the assault happened. If Mr. Kern was not so intoxicated, why did he not instruct the driver to continue driving and ignore his friends’ remarks? He could have said that they were not talking to you (the driver), but to him. This is a proof that the level of his intoxication did not allow him to respond as a sober person, nor even to remember the events of that night correctly, assuming that he does not have a personal interest to manipulate the facts to benefit his friends.

6. He stated that he left the pub earlier because he felt bad inside the pub not before arriving, which indicates that his sickness might have been a result of his intoxication, in contradiction to the Crown’s theory that he was not as intoxicated as his friends.

7. The jury has not been explained to by anyone, that even, if the accused has left his vehicle on his own, without being pulled out, this does not constitute a crime, an offense, or an aggression.

8. Each and every one of the 5 friends has stated that there was an argument with the driver, but no one has stated what the content of the argument was. No one could provide a single word that the driver is alleged to have produced. No one of the 5 friends has stated that he was in particular involved in such word exchange. They have tried indirectly to find a motivation for the driver to commence an aggression against them by inventing that there was an argument, which has never existed. When a content of the illusive argument could not be found, the Crown Prosecutor found the spiting onto the driver’s face was, in fact, the motivation for him to commence the alleged assault (against 4 intoxicated young people).

9. A question of common sense has never been asked: Who would have a motivation to assault someone else? The Crown’s theory is that a sober taxi driver while working had assaulted a group of 4-5 extremely intoxicated young men, who were, in fact, thrown out of the pub for being drunk beyond acceptable limits, as the door man confirmed in his testimony. The defense theory that has never been presented or explained to the jury is that the 4-5 proven to be intoxicated friends had the motivation of being intoxicated to assault a sober taxi driver while working with the only purpose of earning a living. Please review the statements of the door man and the waitress, Ms. Skura. She stated that every one of the group of friends, except her best friend Mr. Brooks, were very intoxicated and needed to cut drinking off. Mr. Matchett as he ordered the friends to leave the pub, did not report in his testimony that anyone of them was less intoxicated that the others.

10. No one reminded the jury that Michael Scott Walton testified that the driver pulled out the knife after he has left his vehicle and pushing between him and the friends took place, contradicting Kyle Kern’s testimony that the knife was pulled out inside the vehicle. Mr. Walton stated that, then, he saw the driver opening the blade. The same testimony was provided by Mr. Walton in writing to the police. Upon emphasis from the defense, Mr. Walton said that he had no doubt about the correctness of his observation. He confirmed that the driver was outside the vehicle, before he pulled out the knife and opened the blade. He repeated that he had no doubt about his story. He, also, stated that the extent of his intoxication did not affect his memory. He stated, as well, that he remembered what happened outside the bar better than his memory of what happened inside.

11. No one of the remaining 4 friends has confirmed Mr. Kern’s statement that he was screaming from inside the cab that the driver had a knife in his hand.

12. Mr. Mathew Walton stated that he did not have any physical contact with the driver except being stabbed, which contradicts the door man’s statement of the dog pile of 5-6 people.

13. Mr. Mathew Walton has given 2 contradicting statements of events during his testimony: First, he said that, when he left the pub, everyone was running around, there was a knife, and that he was chased by the driver. Answering a question from the Crown Prosecutor, he said later that when he left the bar the driver was still inside the cab, and that Devon Thompson tried to prevent him from exiting. Which story is correct?

14. Mr. James Brooks is assumed by the Crown to be the most sober friend based on his medical condition of having MS. He has denied that his group of friends was removed from the bar contradicting the door man’s confirmation of their removal all together. Being diagnosed with MS does not prove that he was not intoxicated. Many young people exceed the limits they are not supposed to go beyond, and then, the effect of alcohol is much more complicated. There has been no proof provided of his MS condition. Might it be an invention?

15. It cannot be excluded the probability that the group of friends were smoking marijuana, as it is the fashion right now among young people. This, with alcohol, increases the impairment and intoxication.

16. Mr. Brooks stated that he grabbed the driver and pulled him away contradicting Mr. Kyle Kern’s statement that no one of his friends had touched the driver.

17. Mr. Brooks stated that the driver was chasing Mr. Devon Thompson in the Power Point stills contradicting Mr. Mike Walton’s statement the driver was chasing James Brooks himself.

18. No one has indicated to the Jury that, in the Power Point stills, the driver’s direction was towards the building’s wall and not following the first running person in the same frames. That person was running around the vehicle in a direction at a 90-degree angle from the movement direction of El-Meadawy, who was perused by a third person and pushed against the wall. The stills have shown El-Meadawy being perused and assaulted, but did not show him perusing anyone. The jury was not offered an opposite theory that the driver was the victim and not the aggressor. There is no wonder that their verdict was unanimously a conviction of guilt.

19. Mr. Matchett stated and confirmed that the group of 5 that the Crown prosecutor had invited for testimony was the same he had warned twice and at last ordered to leave the pub for being intoxicated beyond acceptable limits. He stated the same in his testimony at the Preliminary Hearing. Upon the defense’s cross examination, he explained that they were yelling, screaming and banging bottles on the tables. This is a proof of their intoxication, which alone constitutes a motivation for an assault against the sober taxi driver, as the police officer, who arrested him, stated (The driver seemed to be absolutely sober). Please, note the Mr. Kyle Kern in his testimony stated that his friends were aggressive.

20. Mr. Matchett’s testimony of removing the 5 friends from the bar contradicts the statement of each of them that they were not removed from the pub.

21. Mr. Scott Matchett has contradicted Ms. Skura’s statement that she went outside first. Matchett stated that he was outside smocking and saw the cab arrive, while Ms. Skura stated that she did not see the cab arrive.

22. Upon the defense cross examination, Mr. Matchett confirmed that the taxi driver was the person, who was pushed against the wall of the building by the third person appearing in the stills.

23. Mr. Matchett stated that the occupants (meaning the friends) seemed as fighting each other; a couple was doing something with the driver. This statement clearly points out the aggression of the friends by fighting each other and in a fight mood. He did not mention here that the couple were fleeing the driver, who is supposed to have had a knife in his hand, but were engaged with him. Would that not prove that the driver did not start an aggression with a knife as the friends claimed? And, if the testimony of some the friends that he had a knife in his hand would be correct, should not the couple of friends have been running away from him? How could they be engaging with someone with a knife and not running away from him?

24. Mr. Matchett stated that he observed someone fighting with the driver contradicting Mr. Kyle Kern’s statement that his friends did not touch the driver, nor assault him.

25. Mr. Matchett was shown in the Power Point stills moving to the back of the mini-van. The defense asked him what he saw. He answered a dog pile of 5-6. He confirmed to the defense that all of them were not fleeing but engaged all together. This testimony proves that the alleged victims were not running away for their lives from the taxi driver armed with knife. Here, a question must have been asked, whether it is a human nature that an individual person would attack 4-5 intoxicated young men. Here, Mr. Matchett has contradicted, again, Mr. Kyle Kern’s statement that no one of his friends had touched the driver or assaulted him.

26. No one has questioned on my behalf the credibility of Ms. Skura because she stated that she has been the best friend of Mr. James Brooks for years. She might be or have been his girlfriend. In this case, his friends, especially during the past 2 years would, also, be her friends. A loyal friend, in general, would support his friends to the end, and would not betray them and their interests. She must have listened to their story tens of times and embraced it as a loyal friend. No one has put the probability to the jury that she might be considered as a very biased witness based on her relationship with the 5 friends.

27. All 5 friends and I have testified that 4 of them were standing outside the driver’s window of the mini-van, before the driver exited his vehicle. Mr. Matchett has confirmed those statements, which raises this version of event to a fact. But Ms. Skura stated that she has not seen anyone at that location, although she claimed that she was outside smoking before Matchett came outside and that she had seen the events unfolding. Although Mr. Matchett had seen the cab arriving at the premises, Ms. Skura did not see that. This proves that she had not seen the entire event unfolding as she claimed. Ms. Skura has, also, denied seeing the dog pile mentioned by Mr. Matchett.

28. After original denial, Mr. Matchett agreed upon the defense’s cross examination that the driver was, in fact, chased by the entire group. Ms. Skura did not see that either.

29. Ms. Skura stated that when she left the pub for smoking, Mr. Matchett was not outside, though she has not seen the cab arriving, while he did. Please, note that the taxi driver has stated that Matchett was already outside, as he had arrived at the premises.

30. Please, note that Matchett’s job nature would have permitted him to be outside watching the premises for a longer period of time, in contrast to Ms. Skura, whose job nature demanded her presence inside serving customers.

31. Ms. Skura stated that the people outside were pushing each other, contradicting Mr. Kern’s statement that no one of his friends had touched the driver.

32. She stated that the stabbing happened during the power point stills shown in the court, although, the reaction of every one of the friends shown in the stills has not indicated an injury or suffering from pain.

33. Was she the female person standing outside the bar in the Power Point stills? Had she seen anything at all?

34. Ms. Skura, though claimed to have seen the entire event unfold in front of her eyes, did not see the group of friends chasing the driver, the dog pile, the friends standing outside the driver’s side window, and the door man pulling someone from the back of someone else. The only thing she had seen was the aggression of the driver.

35. Ms. Skura’s age at the time of her testimony has been 19 years. 2 years ago, she was 17. I wonder whether she was a minor working at a pub then. Upon examination, what impact would that fact have on her credibility?

36. Ms. Skura stated that she was accompanied by her best friend, or may be her boyfriend, at the scene. She defended him as the least intoxicated one of all the friends. Would her relationship with him allow questioning her credibility as a witness?

37. Have I not had the legal right to put all those contradictions in the Crown witness’s testimonies and questioning their credibility to the jury to consider my guilt beyond reasonable doubt? Have I, also, not had the right to offer them a defense theory of innocence?

38. Please, note that how long a person talks, explains, and repeats his or her theory and findings from different angles to unprofessional jurors would have a different impact than saying almost nothing.

39. The jury had doubts about my guilt, as they requested transcripts of testimonies from Scott Matchett, Michael Walton, and myself, all of which contained statements supporting my version of events. No one has explained to them sufficiently the position of the law about having a doubt and whether that might qualify as a reasonable doubt.

40. As the jury was informed that the transcript could only be delivered in 2 hours, they decided to ignore exploring the sources of their doubts and produced a conviction to allow them to go home earlier. That conviction was not based on certainty as they have not studied the reasons of their doubts and eliminated all reasonable doubts to be able to convict.

41. They did not have a sufficient legal advice about the meaning of reasonable doubt, how, and when to apply it, as I believe that advice should have come from Mr. Larson. You remember how you and both councils have discussed reasonable doubt professionally in details. Your common understanding about reasonable doubt was not transmitted to them fully and sufficiently to produce a guilty verdict beyond reasonable doubt.

42. A society that prides itself of logic, reason, fairness, and civility must have found all the above, unfortunately non-presented, contradictions in the Crown witnesses’ testimonies a base for a reasonable doubt that the driver has ever committed any crime and discrediting most of the Crown witnesses for being biased.

43. Based on the above, my conviction of guilt beyond reasonable doubt has been unfair.

Your Honor, despite your best efforts to provide me with a fair trial, the above mentioned contradictions in the testimonies of the Crown witnesses and questioning their credibility have not been presented to the jury at all. In contrast, they have received a professional extraction, explanation of the events according to the Crown’s theory, and the best effort by the Crown Prosecutor to convince them that I have been guilty beyond reasonable doubt.

The presentation was unbalanced by Mr. Larson’s mistaken strategy to give a very short account of events, and wait for his second chance to respond to the Crown’s presentation. Of course, that second chance has never been permitted by the law. Accordingly, should a probable innocent man go to jail because of a lawyer’s mistake?

Since I have not received a full, satisfactory, detailed, and comprehensive defense by my own hired lawyer, I cannot just go to jail without providing the above detailed defense of myself. I will be most satisfied that (my insistence on being innocent based on acting in self defense, my exposure of the contradictions in the Crown witnesses’ testimonies, questioning their credibility, mentioning my lawyer’s mistake, and complaining about the lack of sufficient explanation and legal advice to the jury about “guilt beyond reasonable doubt”) are included with the official trial documentation for public record.

Now, it is the time to sentence me for defending myself, a basic human and constitutional right that should not be denied, as you yourself stated. Now, you are going to send a probable innocent man, who did not have the full opportunity to defend himself in front of the jury, to jail, and destroy his and his family’s life and livelihood. I am going to be the escape goat for the consequences of drunkenness, bad manners and home education, and mischief.

At last, I have to admit that you have done your best efforts to provide me with a fair trial and you did. I am not blaming you for becoming an innocent escape goat, but blaming Mr. Larson, whom I have entrusted with my life, but he did not take it serious enough.

Please, include this document as a part of the official records of the trial.

Thank you for an exemplary fairness and conscience.

…………………………………

Ahemd El-Meadawy

THE END

Copyright © 2011 by Ahmed El-Meadawy. All rights reserved.

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