Eric is Free!

Dear friends and comrades,

It is with bursting hearts that we write to tell you some amazing news. Today, January 8, Eric was ordered released from prison. It has been almost 9 years exactly since he was arrested in Auburn, CA, on January 13, 2006.

Eric’s release came about because of the habeas petition that he and his legal team filed in May 2012. Because the government withheld important documents from the defense at trial, Eric’s original judgment and sentencing were vacated and he pleaded guilty to a lesser charge that carried a five year maximum sentence. This means Eric has already spent four years longer in prison than could have been required under the statute for the charge he pleaded guilty to. He received credit for time served and was ordered released.

Eric’s projected release date – until today – was February of 2023.

We are beyond thrilled that Eric will soon be back home with us, where he belongs. But nothing can change the fact that Eric and his loved ones have had 9 years stolen from them by the state. At times, this fight seemed almost impossible. Eric endured hunger strikes, solitary, the separation of hundreds of miles from everyone and everything he loved, andthe isolation and cold walls and wire of prison. These things were meant to break him – but the state has utterly failed in this endeavor. Eric remains steadfast and strong. Eric fought the charges against him 9 yearsago because he knew it was the right thing to do. He has maintained his integrity all of these years by staying true to himself and to the things he believes in. But he has not done this in a vacuum. Thank you to everyone who has shown their love and support these last nine years. It has made all the difference. To everyone who has ever written a letter, sent drawings of dragons or pictures of fairies, or included pictures of something as simple as a blade of grass… you have given Eric’s life color, fire and connection these past 9 years. You have proven that our
solidarity is our strongest weapon.

We are anxious to celebrate! But we also must remember that Eric’s case is just one among many – and it is by no means the most egregious. Since 9/11 the state has engaged in political prosecutions of hundreds of people in this country – the majority of them from Muslim communities – for their religious and political affiliations. And our comrades continue to be targeted and arrested for daring to dream. We are overjoyed that Eric is coming home. But we also know that we must never rest until all are free.

Eric has been released from Sacramento County jail, but his struggle is far from over. He received two years of
supervised release and will be under their watch during that time. Coming out of prison is a complicated and difficult journey, but it is one that we are excited and ready to begin.

Thanks again to all of you – and a big shout out to Eric’s lawyers – Mark Vermeulen and Ben Rosenfeld – who have worked tirelessly and passionately on his case for years, pro bono.

We will be in touch in the coming weeks. Until then – celebrate! Struggle! And as Eric would say…Find UR Joy!

So much love to you all.

Until all are free!

-Sacramento Prisoner support

Support Eric

There are several ways that you can help support Eric McDavid:

  • Fundraising
  • Letters
  • Books
  • Respond to support alerts
  • Flyers
  • Fundraising

Donations to Eric’s support fund are used to help him pay for phone calls to loved ones, stamps and writing materials, books, etc. These funds are also used to help his loved ones pay for trips down to Terminal Island to visit him. Visits are incredibly important to Eric and his loved ones and are imperative for maintaining everyone’s sanity. Please consider making a contribution through PayPal (yes, we hate it too). If you would rather not use PayPal, please contact us and we will tell you how you can donate (email: info[at]supporteric[dot]org).
PayPal – The safer, easier way to pay online! You can also contribute by donating directly to Eric’s commissary, which will allow him to buy stamps, phone cards, food and others essentials. You can use either Western Union or a money order. Western Union is quicker but has fees associated with it. For instructions on how to put money into Eric’s commissary account visit this link at the Federal Bureau of Prisons Website:

You will need Eric’s name and registration number (Eric Taylor McDavid, 16209-097).Please also include these on the money order itself.

Support Eric t-shirts are also available. All proceeds from the shirts will go directly to Eric’s support fund. If you would like to order a t-shirt, click here.

Eric is a long way from home in an incredibly stressful environment. Please take a moment to send Eric a letter of support! It would mean so much to him. You can send postcards, cards, photocopies of news articles, stories, black & white drawings, or simple notes of support. Please keep in a mind a few important points when writing Eric:

All letters must have a return address on the envelope.
Please also put a return address on the letter itself, as prisoners are almost never given the envelopes.
Keep in mind that all mail is read by authorities. Please do not discuss his case, charges or issues relating to either.
Pictures are allowed, but must be 4×6 size or smaller. No Polaroids.
Eric cannot receive envelopes, blank paper or stamps.
Avoid using white-out, stickers, tape, colored ink/paper or glitter.
PLAIN cards are allowed but you must write something inside.
Most facilities do not allow torn pages from books, magazine or newspaper clippings. Photocopies, however, are accepted
Please remember that, even if unsolicited, mail can still result in sanctions against a prisoner.
Please address all mail to Eric as follows:
Eric McDavid 16209-097
FCI Terminal Island
Federal Correctional Institution
PO Box 3007
San Pedro, CA 90731


*Thanks to lots of amazing supporters, Eric currently has more books than he can handle! If you would like to support Eric, he has asked that instead of books, people put the money into his support fund (which is used for things like commissary, legal fees, and visits from his partner). *

Support Alerts
Please watch for support alerts posted on this website in the section “updates.” Eric and his family and friends will need continued support throughout this horrible ordeal. Support updates will be posted periodically, as we get information. If you would like to receive e-mail updates about Eric and his case, please e-mail us at info[at]supporteric[dot]org and ask to be added to the alert list.

Help us spread the word about Eric and his case! Download flyers here to distribute in your community and at your events. For a zine about Eric, his case and June 11th, click here.

Thank you for your support!

Eric Is Being Transferred

Dear Friends,
Please hold off on sending Eric mail right now because he is being transported to Sacramento and finally getting a procedural hearing related to his habeas petition. We will let you know his new address when he arrives.

A Visualization

A visualization from Eric:
the locomotive has made it’s way and passed over the summit. now, it’s momentum is kinetic as it crosses the valley below… throughout the journey, this train has been guided by rails woven of the love and support of family both large and small… not too far off in the distance, is the place where the mountains gave passage to the river on it’s way to the sea; this is the convergence point to which the rails lead. a sphere of crystalline light is tucked into those folds of green; therein, the image of the judge is reading off a piece of paper = the
verdict of not-guilty……..

January 12, 2013 Update

Hello everyone,

It is the eve of D’s arrest date… Below is a letter from him, followed by one from jenny (his partner).

7 yrs… i can’t say it’s easy 2 put these words dn on paper – that it doesn’t pain me 2 look bk over these past 7 trips around the Sun… w/the process of the courts continuing n the final appeal stages; it’s end yet 2 show up on the horizon = no illusions, while still Dancing w/wishes… Love & Joy have also made their presence known = the overwhelming support from all over the Earth ~ i wish 2 Thank every persyn/grp that has written & supported me along this journey – Ur intents, N which ever forms they’ve taken, have aided & nourished me N remembering who i am N a situation & environment bent on unraveling, dismembering & remolding…along w/all the communal Solidarity, i’m grateful 4 the support of friends & family – & how i’ve been buoyed by the Love and Passionate Patience of my Partner = i Love you J, you R my Joy… … i’m unable 2 adequately express my feelings of Respect & Solidarity 4 all the folx Dancing w/the overt repression across the continent while staying True 2 their Hearts… 2 the folx Dancing w/Grand Juries = bide Ur time, this is 1 of the few circ.s where time is on the SD of the oppressed… w/N this cultural climate the Path is not easy or simple by any means – making it all the more important 2 find those unique, ever changing, beautiful & sustainable ways 2 aid & nurture each other… …. i’ll close wishing that each of U continue 2 explore & heal Ur Hearts & communities; may U find the space & time over the coming yr 2 let Ur minds play w/new & safe communication skills, & Ur bodies w/self-defense…

Stay safe & have fun finding Ur Joy

N Solidarity
w/much Love

Hello friends,

Tomorrow, January 13th, marks the 7th year of D’s arrest. It’s strange how life really does move in cycles. Glancing at the note I sent you all last year my eyes are greeted by good news. After his move to Terminal Island last year – right before the New Year – D and I were finally allowed to hold hands during our visits for the first time since his arrest. After 6 years. It was a reminder of how precious such seemingly insignificant acts can be – and to remember to never take them for granted.

On New Year’s Eve this year I spent the day visiting D at Terminal Island. The visit started normally – a much awaited hug and kiss, slowly moving to our chairs, but letting our hands linger – fingers intertwined as we reached across the tiny table between us. That lasted about 30 seconds. They called D up to the podium where they sit and watch… I heard a flurry of voices with undertones of urgency, although never hostility. When he came back he told me they weren’t allowing us to hold hands anymore. He tried once more to get them to check their own rules, but to no avail. After over a year of being granted this glorious privilege, it was yanked from underneath us.

So many things have been taken from us.

A million thoughts swim through your head at times like that. I knew this might happen. It’s always in the back of your mind – what they can/might/will take one day. I’m more prepared for it now than I used to be – which is to say it’s slightly less devastating when it happens.

I spent much of the car ride home thinking about loss. Sometimes it feels like my heart has broken so many times that the thing I am mending bears no resemblance to the original. That thought scares me. But then I think of the alternative. A friend recently told me that she always felt like love should be a safe space… I wish I could agree. But that has never been my experience. With love we throw our hearts wide open – which means everything gets in. The good, the bad, the ugly. And sometimes that means we hurt like hell. But other times that means we get to experience so much joy and beauty that we almost can’t stand it. And that is what I have experienced with D. And I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

D is an amazing individual. His heart is bigger than any i’ve ever known and his mind powerfully creative and beautiful… and his commitment to his friends, his family, and struggle is rock solid. Being his partner has been the most amazing, beautiful journey. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Even with all of the loss.

Sometimes my heart gets so heavy… but then I remember our friends and comrades who have followed similar paths. Many of whom are now out here with us, again. And then I remember all of you – who have been a part of this struggle. Who have been here with us every step of the way. And together we inch closer to that light at the end of the tunnel…

Tomorrow is the 13th. I’ll be driving down to visit D again. He called me the day after our last visit to tell me they found the “memo” that allows us to hold hands. How strange that a piece of paper can dictate my interactions with my partner of 7+ years. And that someone misplacing that piece of paper can be such a cause for panic, sorrow and reflection. I’m glad they found it. But D has told me it doesn’t seem to have fixed the problem… either way, I’m not holding my breath. Nothing is ever certain. And even if they don’t have it fixed…I know that nothing can stop us. Because we have each other. And we have all of you.

To all of our friends and comrades who have experienced so much loss this year – our unending love, support, and solidarity. You are never alone.

And to our friends and comrades who have gained their freedom – or at least pieces of it – welcome home.

With love and solidarity,

Eric has been in prison a long time…and he has a lot more to go. Please let him know that you are still thinking about him! Letters, books, donations, fundraisers and support events are still always needed. For more information on how to write Eric a letter or how to donate to his support fund, please visit:

Zine by Eric Now Available

Dear friends,

We wanted to let you know that a beautiful new zine of writings by Eric is now available from the good folks at Because We Must. You can order it online here:

Toward A Re-Cognition Of Choice

All of the proceeds from the zine will go to Eric’s support fund.

A HUGE special thanks to the person who compiled the zine and put together the artwork. You know who you are… We think you’re awesome.

The zine will also be available at all of the Never Alone Tour stops. For a complete schedule and updates, visit:

We hope to see you all there!


Eric's Birthday

Dear friends, Eric’s 35th birthday is on October 7th! Please take a minute to send him a card or a letter. Let’s order

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Never Alone: National Long-Term Anarchist Prisoner Support Tour, April 2012

Never Alone: National Long-Term Anarchist Prisoner Support Tour, April 2012

It’s 2012. The world is ending. So what are we at Sacramento Prisoner Support and Marie Mason Support Crew gonna do? Go on an epic road trip to talk about prisoner support, of course! Because unless we actually make this the last year of their world, our comrades will still be in there the next.

The nationwide Never Alone tour will be crisscrossing the country in April 2012, featuring the usual suspects speaking about long-term anarchist prisoner support. Focusing specifically on the cases of Eric McDavid and Marie Mason, the tour will mark the spots where the events of these cases unfolded, using multimedia presentations to bring the facts of these cases to light.

As well as raising awareness and support for Eric and Marie, the tour will also feature strategizing about how to more effectively grow a culture of resistance that can breach the prison walls and sustain us and our friends for the long term, a security culture beyond 101 workshop (updated for 2012, now with extra tech!) and some awesome guest speakers. Truly, you won’t want to miss this.

When our friends and loved ones are snatched from us and held captive by the state, we become all too aware that we are never alone. The eyes of the state are always upon us, attempting to silence our voices and still our hands. To keep us from doing the work we know must be done. We must act despite this.

Because we also know that it is imperative that our friends on the inside know that they, too, are never alone. That we will stand by them throughout their time in prison, and welcome them with open arms when they return. That the struggles they were involved in continue on, and that they are empowered to continue on in struggle from inside the prison walls.

And we know that we can’t do this alone. We need the active support of our communities to give us the strength and courage to struggle for our friends and their freedom.

Our friends remind us of what is possible. They remind us that we don’t have to wait for permission to do what we know is right. They remind us that we are not powerless. Like Marie and Eric, we are tired of watching all that we love be destroyed by all that we hate. We know what needs to happen.

We are in it for the long haul.

Are you?

Find out more about the tour:
Questions? Trolling? Contact us at neveralonetour (A) riseup dot net.

About Marie Mason

Marie Mason is a loving mother of two and a long-time activist in the environmental and labor movements. In March 2008, she was arrested by federal authorities after her former partner, Frank Ambrose, turned informant for the FBI. Facing a life sentence if she went to trial, she accepted a plea bargain in September 2008, admitting her involvement in two acts of property destruction that occurred in 1999 and 2000 – damaging an office connected to GMO (Genetically Modified Organism) research, and destroying a piece of logging equipment. No one was injured in either act. On February 5, 2009, she was sentenced to just under 22 years. She is now serving the longest sentence of any “Green Scare” prisoner. Marie is currently being held in an incredibly restrictive unit at the prison in Carswell, TX. Other political prisoners, such as Lynne Stewart, are also housed there. For more information on Marie and her case, please visit

About Eric McDavid

Eric McDavid was arrested on January 13, 2006 and charged with a single count of “conspiracy to damage and destroy property by fire and explosive.” No action ever took place. Eric was arrested after being entrapped by a government informant, known as “Anna,” who was paid over $65,000 for her work with the FBI. Eric stood strong in the face of great repression and refused to cooperate with the government, choosing instead to take his case to trial (even after both of his former co-defendants took a plea bargain and agreed to testify against him in court). After a trial riddled with errors, a jury convicted Eric in September 2007. Many of these same jurors later went on record making damning statements about the FBI. Two of them later submitted declarations to the court stating that they believed Eric deserves, at the very least, a new trial. Despite this, in May 2008, the judge in Eric’s case sentenced him to an outrageous 19 years and 7 months in prison. Eric is now serving an almost 20 year sentence for what amounts to “thought crime.” For more info on Eric and his case, please visit

This tour is part of the collaboration for International Day of Solidarity for Long-term Anarchist Prisoners, June 11.

We’re excited to see you there!

November 1, 2011 – Letter

Putting this critique out of my head & dn on paper comes w/the kind of sigh that loosens your shoulders & unravels your stomach, catching you off guard w/the guttural vocalization coming out w/that flow of Wind… the delusion that fed my waiting was the possibility of my writings making an already shitty situation of prosecution even worse… Hind-sight always comes w/a sting = my charges topped out at 2 decades – only 5 more months than i received… naiveté came N2 play elsewhere = despite stay’n true 2 my understanding of entrapment (where a govn’t agent uses coercion & manipulation, while providing all the materials, 2 direct & manifest an act deemed illegal by the state), had i done more research there would’ve been no way N western culture i would’ve utilized that defense… it’s on the verge of ludicrous 2 think the system would impede a mechanism bringing N such vast amounts of $, fueling the bureaucratic fascism that defines govn’t 2day (remember the bonds we can post 2 get bailed out? ever wonder what happens 2 them if we remain imprisoned? not 2 many others do either – where R the majority of bonds w/N the financial system? yep, bound & traded on the market; this B’n 1 scheme amongst numerous others)… don’t get me wrong – i harbor no regrets about my choice of go’n 2 trial; part of me is curious of what difference a necessity defense would’ve made… here we go… woken long B4 U’re rested, it’s cold w/concrete everywhere, called out by the speaker above the steel door, patted dn & escorted 2 the elevator, never know’n where or why, the door opens 2 the chaotic jingle of chains, shouting cops, waiting 4 others – a marshal’s list 2 fill, patted dn, the pinch that only comes from shackles & cuffs attached 2 a waist chain, Ur jingle adds 2 the cacophony, processed & packed, 12 N2 the 10 bk seats of a van… the outsd world through the windows holds every1’s tongue, despite B’n early the goings on R enough 2B a sensory overload = people walking, driving, riding bikes, eating breakfast on the run, smoking, drink’n coffee, talking 2 each other on phones – the marshals have the radio on some corporate station still play’n the same songs when I stopped listening over 5 yrs ago… parked behind N the secured garage, moved, stored, caged & still bound 2 Urself, some1 asks “got the time, marshal?” “6:30ish,” hearings B4 10am R rare, most = much later… coming from the concrete grayness, steel metal bars, placid white walls, 2 step out N2 mahogany everywhere, deep reds, soft blues, business attire & hairdos, stenograph, briefcase, pens & notepads… chained 2 Ur own body N oversized shirt, pants, paper shoes = neon orange… eyes immediately turn 2 the bk of the room & R flooded by the benches behind the defense – friends & family bringing a rush of nutrients that cannot B put 2 words; i could barely keep still know’n that i was sharing the same air & only w/N arms reach of their embraces… it was such a contrast 2 what lay B4 me on this SD of the Bar… standing B4 that 1st black robe, the separation was disorienting, the language & process was that of another world… bail denied – flight risk = knowledge of standing on the SD of the road w/thumb out, knowledge of boarding locomotives when they slow or stop = flight risk; no family ties = traveling w/out a cellphone & unable 2B contacted by family = no family ties… after the sardine-van ride bk 2 the gulag, it’s bk ? 2 the cell & wait 4 the visit i knew was coming… ‘never knew if it would B my Partner & family or my attorney who would B 1st… the attorney visits were N closed booths w/little stainless steel stools & table top w/a slot under the plexi-glass window sized 4 paperwork… i could feel the presence of microphones N the false ceiling above us – seemed ridiculous 2 believe they weren’t there… Mark’s communication skills w/N the court room were pretty damn good – but N any other circumstance = extremely lacking… i got 2 the point of having 2 put him through grounding techniques at the beginning w/reminders throughout “Mark, what did U hear me ask? R both Ur feet on the ground? can U feel them?”… i needed 2 make a list of questions just so i wouldn’t get wrapped up N his whirlwind of energy… the handshakes through that slot N the table top was the extent of humyne humyn contact during the 28 mo of confinement N that jail… now, visits w/my Partner & family were a bit different… next 2 the attorney booths was a continuous stainless steel tabletop w/the plexi-glass window running all the way dn the middle… each booth was separated by a partition of plexi-glass, & 2 communicate w/your visitor a phone receiver is used… 2 deter visitors by causing frustration & raise stress levels, the volume was lowered or a static background noise made hearing the other persyn near impossible at times & perfectly clear the next… knowing each word & sentence were 2B scrutinized by any # of ‘intelligence’ agencies wasn’t 2 big of a step – but i’ve never acclimated 2 not B’n able 2 touch those i love… have’n those visits kept me alive as much as the oxygen i was breathing, & getting others perspectives on the proceedings N court helped 2 make sure i wasn’t the only 1 baffled by what was go’n on… the courts i experienced eviscerated any ideas regarding a jury trial B’n the last oasis of justice w/N the system; where a jury is provided all the facts & info., & B’n free 2 their interpretation w/justice as the intent & end… if that were the case, i wouldn’t B N this cell, nor hearing time and again stories from folx N here reflecting my own… throughout trial i was dumbfounded by the blatant ways (2 me) the jury was held N contempt by the judge & lawyers – at the same time regarding them as some porcelain doll the lawyers and judge didn’t want 2 tip over… throughout the proceedings my eyes would wander over 2 those folx sat off 2 the SD, occupying that space of audience, the passive observer… 1 or 2 dozing, most w/the impartial looks of random thoughts= bills-work-family-etc., ‘reminded me when i was a kid at church with the pastor speaking of famine, drought, floods, the starving of children & elders N economically colonized lands = there was this blanket of something over or behind people’s expressions = “a higher power is at work here”… i remember get’n called 2 jury duty & duck’n it like the plague; forced 2 accept pennies on the dollar after drive’n at least an hour through bumper 2 bumper each morn’n & night, 9-3 sit’n N uncomfortable chairs, “we’re all stuck here, so the smoother we make this = the faster we can all go home,” “follow the lead of the professionals, they’ve been do’n this a long time & know what they’re do’n; after all, justice is their business”… by the time the jury instructions were handed dn, they were so deluded, confused, & malleable – it took hardly a nudge 2 direct them dn the prescribed path… i’m at a loss of words due 2 a couple of reasons = 1) the jury didn’t C it & didn’t do anything about it; 2) i saw it & didn’t do anything about it… this is a jumble of curiosities= how can truth & justice B found w/out open understanding of all parties & honest, authentic communication? R they even meant 2B there N the 1st place? how would a political prisoner go about getting a jury of their peers? how could a jury B impartial if they’re confined 2 perceive & relate 2 censored info only from a deliberate perspective chosen by a person paid by the state whose superiors maintain their status & the status quo?… ‘hear that N the middle of my trial the judge won the judge of the yr award? weird, eh?… the day of the verdict i can remember sitt’n N the cage on the 10th floor… the court room & attached juror room were upon the 14th & i sat there imagining positive energy flowing N2 the latter… when a marshal showed up 2 take me up the elevator i knew it was 2 early… as every 1 was settling N & waiting on the judge, a juror caught my eye & gave a small shake of their head – i had 2 give my self a small smile 4 perceiving the outcome… it didn’t surprise me any more than the sentence handed dn by the judge… he’d made his intent known throughout the trial; at 1 point turning 2 Mark & i 2 give us a small nod & smile when a juror asked the precise question which would lead them all 2 perceive the confidential informant as not B’n a govn’t agent when i 1st met her… this was actually the pivotal point during the deliberations as stated by a couple of the jurors N letters they wrote 2 my attorney… at sentencing the presentencing officer recommended 13 yrs, the prosecution 20, & the judge mentioned someth’n like wish’n that he wasn’t bound by the limit put on him bc it was a conspiracy case & couldn’t give me the 293 months the charge carried otherwise. the impact on loved ones racked me harder than the time handed dn, & somehow i had more confidence N the appellate courts (social programming is a pain N the ass)… i was way 2 excited know’n i’d B out of that county jail & solitary confinement… so far as my experience w/the sacramento county gulag, we’ll have 2 start at the beginning… 1 more time = bright Winter mountain morning, sit’n on the trunk of the car soaking N the brisk blue Sky, “did i seriously leave my pouch of tabac at the house?,” here come the other 2, ‘click,’ screeching wheels N all directions, i fixate on the suburban B4 me, less than a bus length away, both SD doors open B4 it stops, out come 2 shouting ninja turtles w/the nozzles of their AR15s leading the way, a quick pan @ soaks N the other vehicles, shouts, guns, & stop on her eyes staring at me N the rear view mirror, that ‘click’ B4 the screeching tires registers as the auto-lock 4 the doors of the car she’s sitting N… dominoes tumble btx my ears as i slowly raise my hands & get dn 2 knees, stomach, arms out-reached, the asphalt doesn’t exist under my cheek, nor the 2 knees N my back, i’m bk by the time i’m cuffed & stood ?, hands leaping N2 my pockets looking 4 a key that isn’t there… shock has set N & the contradiction of B’n me rides the torrent of adrenaline N2 a state of calmness & clarity; there is no tremor N my breath, nor shaking N my hands; i can feel the embrace of cool morning air moving @ me, the warmth of the Sun on my skin, N my eyes the full green of Trees & deep blue of Sky sinks N, “this is go’n 2B the last time my eyes hold them 4 a while,” i give out a silent thanks w/a sigh… a small crowd has gathered 2 watch, i’m taken N2 the bk of a durango rental, the other 2 R N separate cars, JTTF driver (c.h.p. or sheriff’s dep.), fibby hops N beside me, short ride dn the hill 2 a suburb satellite compound N citrus heights i never knew was there (lived w/N 5 miles of it since jr. high), during their attempt 2 debrief my property was logged & headlamp stolen by the fibby “i’ll take this as evidence,” yes i’m still pissed, “U got anything 2 say?” “U got an attorney 4 me?,” bk N the durango & headed dn town, just B4 we pull N2 the underground garage of the gulag = “We always go easy on the 1 that turns 1st” “U’re fuck’n kid’n me,” sit’n on a concrete bench under the gulag, paper wk B’n processed, i’m soak’n everything up while look’n bored as fuck = there’s double doors on every exit, scrubbed concrete i can tell has been spattered from countless struggles coming 2 late – once U’re N the bowels surviving digestion is the only viable possibility i can C… there R no windows, ultra-violet lights at measured distances break up the heavy doors – be they steel or bullet proof plexi-glass, feels like i’m wait’n N line 4 some twisted roller-coaster ride… a young look’n agent w/an ATF windbreaker sits next 2 me, “recognize me?” “not really” “U know how hard it was 2 keep up w/U?” “no” “we’ll have 2 have a beer when U get out” “U’re buy’n,” behind the sliding door, uncuffed, patted dn, handkerchief and hoodie taken, cuffed, wait, 2 jug heads escort me 2 a room the size of a phonebooth & uncuff me, “strip & put clothes outSD,” they step away, i notice the small window of a box housing a camera has a yellow post-it 4 a cover & i quickly remove it – if they come at me it’s go’n 2B on film… i can’t say i was ready 4 this form of psy-op.s (can U ever B ready 2 experience something U’ve only read about?) but i did know it 4 what it was= an attempt 2 make the oppressed feel like they R participating N a demoralizing act – having seen a wrong is bad, having a wrong done 2 U is worse, doing a wrong 2 Urself is the worst ever, knowledge B4 hand dissolves the power dynamic necessary 4 them 2 oppress… they return, quickly glancing at the camera, 1 goes through my clothes while the other spits directions w/cold concrete under my feet = show hands, under armpits, behind ears, SDs of mouth, under tongue, lift balls, turn @, lift rt foot, left foot, bend over, spread cheeks, cough, get dressed, no laces N my boots; then the shuffle begins – continuous displacement from 1 tank to another (more psy. ops.) , this 1 so full there’s only standing room, the next it’s just me & the camera, always a camera & a phone, a toilet & thick boarded benches against the walls, this 1 fills & empties, moved B4 this 1 fills all the way, time vanishes, only wondering, is there an undercover N here, a plant, an informant, dominoes tumble once again = solitary will B the only escape from violent coercion – abuse could only come from those who have the keys… not wanting 2 provide the fibbies w/any tools 2 sway my decision 2 go 2 trial – i could easily picture myself during trial w/a face marred by a fight, while my attorney layed out my non-violent past & non-existent criminal record 2 a jury full of raised eye-brows & smirks – i requested solitary confinement… i was persynally prepared 4 what came w/isolation, having done the necessary wk on myself = the internal exploring, healing & nourishing needed 2 survive & dance w/the trauma of B’n raised N this culture; w/the effects from the shock & continuous trauma of B’n caged all i would’ve had 2 fall bk on would B those culturally programmed traits we’re all raised with, such as identification w/the oppressor, mob mentality, & submission 2 authority… my receiving those weekly stacks of mail did wonders which i’m perpetually grateful 4, but w/out the anchor of knowing, loving, & B’n aware of who i am – how could i’ve stayed true 2 the intentions of my Heart?… through the Spring and Summer a once dear friend of mine survived iso. & continuous harassment – his folding just B4 Fall was like my Heart breaking N my hands… i tried 2 do all i could 2 aid him N maintaining some semblance of a foundation that he could utilize – of course (here’s that familiar sting), it’s not something which can B given, only found… he was released as soon as he signed his plea deal; 2 prep him 4 the stand it took 3 consecutive days of 9-5… while on the stand they used something like ‘rehabilitated’ 2 describe him = now working 35-40 hrs/week, helping his dad w/the rent, & having a girlfriend… when he flipped i didn’t think the pain could’ve gotten worse… what i saw & heard were the scared responses of some1 B’n led along on a tight leash… lauren was almost the inverse = ze turned rt away & when i found out over the Summer i was devastated… btx the time of our arrest & the trial ze’d apparently recovered some – despite the influences @ hir & the meds they put hir on… it was subtle, but lauren’s words ended up aiding my defense more than the prosecution… the c.i., ‘anna,’ wore business attire, mimicking the professionalism exuded by her fibby handlers… it twisted me up & down 2 hear the distance N her voice i recognized as always B’n there… at the end of ‘anna’s’ testimony the govn’t resorted 2 character assassination by way of a blatant lie, pitting their authority vs. my word… their story was that on the last night i walked out N2 the living room 2 wave an 8 inch knife over ‘anna’s’ sleeping face (a knife i never possessed, nor did they remember 2 plant N the evidence), which woke her & her calmly saying “go bk 2 bed”… somehow the surveillance cameras weren’t recording during this event, which is weird bc they’re supposed 2B N whatever room the c.i. occupies (but of course fibbies testified 2 their witnessing the event on their monitors), nor was there a 302 filing 4 that night (an event description form 4 the fibbies 2 write dn a narrative of what they see on the monitors w/the corresponding times)… 2 say i was disgusted doesn’t even begin 2… … so, biased as it is, i’ve acquired the belief that moving w/a political intent brings about quite a bit of predisposition from the courts (yes, i’m B’n sarcastic, their response was more like that 2 a deadly virus = stamp out & lock away)… it’s further supported by a recent case N sacto where some1 burnt dn a wal-mart, a good portion of an upscale mall, & his grandma’s house; & after the actions were deemed not politically based (by the same prosecutor N my case), that persyn got sentenced 2 10 yrs… my case was 1 more notch N the belt 4 the fibby’s cointel tactics – creating monsters 2 fuel fear, while vilifying a pattern of social relation based upon mutual aid, authentic relation, voluntary association, & the realization of desires… this pattern of relation was something i’d found N every place i touched N a yr & a 1/2 of traveling off the grid – Seatle 2 Ft. Lauderdale, NY 2 San Fran. & numerous places Nbtx… throughout those times i moved w/an authentic intent, finding a reciprocity, a mutual respect that accompanies the unconscious (or conscious) recognition of some 1 sharing their true self – something deep w/N saying = “this isn’t 1 of the culturally cordonned masks”… & everywhere i went i found others moving w/the same intent – living off the streets, wk’n small jobs, go’n 2 school; these aspects B’n secondary 2 who they R… it’s the relation 2 themselves & 2 those N their communities which took precedence= what nurtured them on their paths… & not 1 was perfect, & had no intention 2B, but they were true 2 themselves N nurturing who they wished 2 become – not some prescribed mold produced by another… w/that – the recognition of material objects B’n non-permanent translated N2 a free sharing or gifting of whatever i happen 2 possess N the moment 2 fullfill a need U’re experiencing rt now (eg.- i’m not going 2 have this pouch of tobacco 4ever; there R numerous ways of acquiring more; & if U don’t have any & would like some= why wouldn’t i help a member of my community?)… these folx came 2gether as long as it nurtured each individually; communicating their persynal & social needs & wishes w/the group – moving towards the benefit of the whole, & there4 themselves… i’ve seen & experienced these grps last for hrs, days, weeks, months, yrs; when pple felt they were no longer nurtured or out grew what the grp was providing, most left w/out animosities & usually w/friendships lasting a lifetime… 2 me, a paramount aspect of authenticity is B’n authentic w/myself & recognizing my shadow as a necessary part of who i am (how can i watch out 4 my shortcomings & negative tendencies if i don’t know what they R?); it’s also helped 2B aware that others share N the wounds inflicted by B’n of this culture, regardless of the nitches they currently find themselves w/N… … this same trauma some structures use 2 keep folx fearful of the unknown, afraid of others, scared of change, worried for the future, & thereby reacting N ways which maintain the culture… any relation that doesn’t bring about those results must B demonized – thus, the “crazy bomb throwing anarchist” motif… what better way 2 dissuade the exploration of ideas than 2 portray those associated w/them as lunatics, dreamers out of touch w/how the world really works… somehow i survived the indoctrination of schooling up 2 college, worked a couple of careers until i saw what i would become N those B4 me, then it took 1 more indoctrination bout w/the intent of teaching 2 finally C this culture beyond the veils of comfort, medication, & socialization… i came 2 recognize the cultural tools provided 4 me – manipulation, coercion, chauvinism, kill or B killed, walk on those below U, destroy all competition – as B’n socio-pathic (defined as traits which kill healthy, nurturing communities); & after that point of reference was acquired, there was only 1 remaining action= the choice… … …