Sunday, May 30, 2010

Happy Memorial Day

Hello my friends. First, allow me to say yesterday was a busy one. I enjoyed an outdoor movie in Downtown Collinsville. I met some members of the Collinsville Jaycees. A good group of people, I think. I'm interested in what they do for the community. I also met Jed Robbins who invited me to the event via facebook in the first place. A very bright young man. It takes a lot of fortitude to accomplish what he has at the age of twenty. After that, I crashed bars to meet people. I only had one beer and a soda. But, I met some interesting people and I believe we will have some guest contributors to this blog in the near future. Not everybody goes to bars to get plastered and/or layed.

Church was interesting today. The choir sang some really good songs. For the first time, I let my voice go a little. You wouldn't believe the relief I felt. Afterwards, I had lunch with my friend and virtual secretary. The wife of the fireman I mentioned in the post titled Civil Servants. My life is changing so quickly I need an outside opinion every now and then. It's great to have a friend who is brave enough to be honest about who they are. Most people aren't even honest with themselves.

Today I intended to post a letter from a reader, but I don't know how to move that letter from my FaceBook messages to this blog without retyping it. I type slowly and I have three jobs. Plus, I have to make myself known in a small town. My time is limited.

If anyone can instruct me in this matter, it would be greatly appreciated.

Anyway, I would also like to direct your attention to my previous post "Wise words." I got an interesting comment which is self explanatory - my response is equally so.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Friday, May 28, 2010

Wise Words

Who can find a virtuous wife?
For her worth is far above rubies.
The heart of her husband safely trusts her;
so he will have no lack of gain.
She does him good and no evil all the days of her life.

These words may be familiar to some of you although they are not mine. They come from a man far more wise than myself.

I've shared them with you because these words sing the song that plays within my heart. I get misunderstood alot because I speak more bluntly and honestly than most people expect.

Isn't it sad the we live life expecting people to lie to us?

But, thats a matter for another post.

I've been thinking alot about the wife. Actually, I'm obsessed with the idea. A man like me was made for a family. All the success in this world, or lack of, would mean nothing to me if I couldn't share life with a woman I can wrap myself up in.

Though I can be wordy, there is little more that needs to be said. I must state, however, I write these words on behalf of all the good men in the world who are willing to treat a good woman as she deserves.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Humpday Entertainment Presents:

Lulubell's
by:
Consuela Black

My mom would kill me if she knew I was telling you this story. She's all uptight and proper. Like she ain't country as hog jawls and collard greens. She don't even like the way I talk, but she lives with it. I talk proper when with her in public "cause I don't wanna embarass her in front her uppidy friends. I hate doing it though.

Before last summer I never cared how people talked. As long as you got your point accross, I felt it shouldn't matter if your education, or lack of, shows in your speech. I guess I kinda still feel that way, but last summer opened my eyes a little bit.

I gotta admit I was pissed off when Mom told me I had to spend the weekend in "The Country" while she went on a business trip. I had planned a date with my boyfriend Jigga. We was supposed to do it again. Iwas so glad the first time when I stopped being a virgin. I was the only one of my friends who still was.

Anyway, Mom picked me up from school during 3rd period and drove me to the middle of no-damned-where.

"Now behave yourself. Listen to your aunt Lula. She's an old woman, and your cousins already have her hands full. Help her out. I'll reward you," Mom said while driving down a dirt road that aint seem to have no end.

I'd never been to Lula's before. I'd heard of her a few times from my pops, but that was all I knew of her. I didn't know what to think when the all wood house appeared. A big vegetable garden was on both sides of the dusty driveway that stooped right in front of the house. A side road led down through the woods to a gate in a barbwire fence. On the side of the fence closest to Lula's house was a pigpen. I could see the stinky animals from the car, but I learned later it was ten of them. Between the pigpen and the house was a wooden well with a bucket and chain on a pulley hanging over it. There was over a dozen chickens roaming all over the yard too.

I closed my eyes and tried to shake myself awake. I then realized this won't no dream. This was the mid eighties, but Lula was stuck a few decades behind the times.

"Mom why can't i stay with a friend," I pleaded.

"Girl," she said with an impatient sigh, "your aunt Lullabell's the oldest relative you have. Besides, it'll be good for you learn your father's roots. See how he came from a little of nothing and built a business and became a success."

We parked infront of the house as she said that. An old woman opened the wood framed screen door and looked at us curiously.

"That's your aunt Lula," Mom said.

The woman looked about fifty. You could see Indian features under her yellow skin. The high cheekbones stood out the most. Her long wavy black hair with its few gray streaks were evidence of her heritage too. "Hey Geneva," she said to Mom.

"Get out," Mom grumbled while opening her door. "Hi Lula," she said after getting out."How are you?"

"Oh law-id, I's fine." Lula said then looked at me. " Who dis beutiful angel you got witcha?" Dat aint Harold's girl is it? She stepped out onto the wide wood planked porch. I thought it wood fall to the ground under her, but it didn't.

I looked at the house closely. It sat on short pillars of blocks. If you looked under it , you could see the pigpen and the well behind it. Paper that looked like brown bricks was tacked to the sides of the house, but there was so many holes in the paper you could see the dryrotted wood siding underneath it. Tattered brown curtains hung inside the crystal clean windows. The tin roof was rusting. The planks in the porch creeked as Lula's pudgy figure made her way across it to the cynderblock steps.

"Hi Aunt Lula," I tried to sound like I won't scared.

"Hey Baby," Lula's voice was husky, but warm.

Mom hugged her then I hugged her.

"You call me Lulabell," she said to me. "What's yo name?"

"Lisa."

"Dat's right. Now I 'memba. Go in da house. Its some cookies on da table in da livin' room. If you anything like yo pappy, you goin love'em."

The screen door surprised me when it didn't squeak. I went in and looked around. The door opened into a big hallway with a warped, sloped, spotlessly cleaned hardwood floor. On the right was a staircase leading upstairs. Straight ahead was the backdoor. Another doorsill was on the left. It led to the living room. Just past the door was and old desk with a bunch of antique junk on top of it. Across from the desk was a refrigerator that was so old I was suprised to hear it running. Lula called it "icebox." It was the most modern appliance in the house.

I stepped into the living room. On the left was a full sized bed. At the foot of the bed was a window. The brown curtains looked worse from the inside. Another full sized bed sat on the other side of the window. The foot of both beds faced each other. A few feet to the right of the bed was a potbellied wood stove. A few feet to the right of that sat a sparkling old dresser. On top of the dresser sat a color tv . It was the old kind with dials you turned to change the station. There was other stuff neatly arranged on the dresser, but I payed no attention to it. A sofa sat under the window to the right of the dresser. It was old and worn out. The dingy brown upholstry matched the curtains. to the right of the sofa, to my right, was a wardrobe closet.

I was facing the back of a blue leather recliner chair that didn't match nothing else in the living room. I went to the chair and sat on it. The cookies sat on a plate, on top of a folding card table, beside the chair. I never ate a cookie that good. It was soft, warm, chewy and rich. I tasted nuts peanut butter, chocolate chunks, and coconut.

Soaps was on tv. I hated soaps but I was too lazy to get up and turn the dial. Plus, them cookies was too good to walk away from. I was on the fourth or fifth when Mom called me.

I was chewing when I walked outside. Mom hugged and kissed me. She looked sadder than I ever remembered when she walked to the car. I mumbled, "I love you." through a mouthful of cookies.

"Come to da kitchen," Lula said." Lets get some milk to go wit dem cookies. You like'em?"

I nodded and didn't stop chewing.

We walked to the end of the hall and made a right. The kitchen was almost as big as the living room.There was an electric stove. It sat on a wall by itself next to another back door. Accross from it was the kitchen table. It had all types of dishes from pots and pans to plates stacked on it. Around it was metal chairs with wood seats and backs. They reminded me of elementary school desks. There was an old washing machine too. The kind with the rollers on top to ring water from clothes. A few cabinets lined the walls. The faces was glass so you could see the dishes inside. It was mostly Mason jars and old cleaned out condiment jars she recycled to drink from.

"You wanna get da milk out da icebox?"

I left the kitchen and returned with the milk.

"Well, I swear,"Lula said as I entered. "I aint neva seent nobody as pretty as you. Almost 'mind me when I was turnin heads at Jiggidy Bum's ole juke jont."

I blushed and laughed while pouring milk into a mayonaise jar.

"What's funny," she asked.

"Juke Joint sounds funny."

"Shucks Baby, won't nuffin like them goot-ole-days. I used to put on my lil skirts and cut da rug all night when I snuck out wit my boyfriends. I was a frisky lil thang too. Boys used to gimme anything for dese goodies."

"AUNT LULABELL!" I didn't mean to scream, but I was shocked.

"Don't be stupid child. How old is you?"

"Sixteen."

"I know you been doin-na nasty."

I didn't reply.

"You aint goin lie to me. I know better. You aint no mo virgin than I is. And, I done had three chillren." She filled her own wierd shaped jar with milk then led the way to the living room.

She sat on the sofa. I sat on the recliner and attacked the plate of cookies. We talked like girlfriends for hours until a car drove up. She listened for a moment then said, "Dere go ole Jimbob"

I followed when she went out to meet him. He pulled up in a two toned brown Chrysler Fifth Avenue. The dust he collected from the long dirt road was hardly visible on the car. He was skinny little darkskinned man with a long, thick, bushy beard. He was going bald on top. I guessed he was in his early fifties.

"Hey Lulabell", he greeted her as he stepped onto the creaky porch.

"You got my money," Lula demanded.

"Damn woman," ha snapped."Don't I always pay my bill on Fridee."

"Yeah. I reccon you do. Betta den da rest of dem nigga-heathens be commin 'roun here drankin all my liquor."

Jimbob reached into his pocket and removed a bankroll. He gave Lula three crisp twenties.

Lula almost snatched the money. "Aint you goin stay a while. You know Roscoe and'em be coming 'roun here afta-while to play cards."

He frowned. "I reccon. Gimme a two dollar shot of whiskey."

Lula smiled. "Goot. Now say 'Hi' to Harold's lil girl."

"Hi ya doin?" He asked me wearing a sly toothless grin.

"Do be gettin fresh neiva you nasty old thang" Lula barked.

I knew then I'd have a lot of fun that weekend at my bootlegging aunts house. Mom couldn't have known about all this.

But I'll have to tell you the rest later.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Personal Thoughts

Today has been a long one. I've had a lot on my mind since my publisher and I have had major disagreements. I don't know where that relationship is headed.

Each day I face I try to improve upon myself. Lately though it seems its hard to do the things I know are best for me. I have a lot on my plate that I'd rather not do. I haven't been writing much for one thing. I keep up with this blog because my readers deserve loyalty from me. You've noticed that I sometimes leave posts up for two days. I have these posts edited before sending links around with invitations to all my friends. I do this because its hard to edit my own work.

But anyway, having suffered so many disappointments recently, its been tempting to give in to potential distractions. I have been slacking in some ways. Its especially hard since I sometimes feel like a bird just freed from its cage. There are so many things I haven't done in about ten years.

I'm not one to beat myself up over mistakes. I try to learn from them and move on.

On the bright side, a job interview went well yesterday. This will make job #3 if I get hired. The real highlight of yesterday was a speech I gave at Unity Lutheran Christian Academy. I talked to 5th and 6th graders about the importance of the verse at Matthew 6:24. The first part of the speech was recorded (the school's recorder ran out of tape.) I'll share what was recorded as soon as a copy is sent to me.

It was good to be able to share the wisdom of my experiences with young people. That's what I set out to do when I started all this anyway. It would be cheesy to say "If I touched the lives of of the children I spoke to yesterday, then all my troubles have been worth it." But, cheesy or not, I kind of feel that way.

On the other hand, I have a lot of work to do yet. There is so much left to be done if I'm to be a positive influence on all those who need it. I know I can't reach everyone, but I guess I'll die trying.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Psychology's Purpose

Previously in this bog, I've made many references to psychology. I've also stated that I spent a great deal of my 9.5yr prison time studying the field. For all intents and purposes, psychology is a science. Information is gathered, tested, and retested, and then conclusions are drawn based upon the findings of these tests. I've tried to avoid psychobabble, because its over most people's heads, while communicating profound facts that have been discovered through this science. It's not an easy thing to do. Psychology explains how and why the events in our lives, and the way we look at them, dictate who we grow up to be. This is why I oppose lying to children as well as all other forms of abuse. It's why I focused on the role a mother must play in children's upbringing.

Let me share a quote from Richard D. Chessick M.D., PHD. "The theories of Fairborn, Winnicott, and R. D. Laing use different conceptions of the self but all have in common with Kohut the assumption that the self is shaped and formed from its very beginning out of the interaction with the mother, or what Winnicott (1965) calls the facilitating environment." Psychology of the Self and the Treatment of Narcissism Aronson 1985

I've stated in another post that Heinz Kohut is arguably the second Freud in the field of psychoanalysis.

We learn from the above quote that I haven't been stating my own convictions regarding child rearing blindly.

I want each of my readers to look at their lives and the behaviors they display which were learned from influences in their childhood. These include emotional reactions to our experiences and the physical reactions that result from the emotions. I can't forget the types of mates we choose too.

The greatest crimes against our children lie in the form of neglect. Nursing is the worst of those. It's been proven that children learn security when they are promptly attended to when hungry. Those who are allowed to suckle at the mother's breast turn out healthier physically, emotionally and psychologically than those who were denied such nurturing.

Each disappointment suffered by the needy child prohibits the child's ability to form healthy emotional and psychological beliefs. The malformed beliefs are usually carried into adulthood. I already know some people will argue that they did or didn't do such and such and their children turned out fine. The problem lies here in distinguishing the point of reference from which this fine child is measured. I'd bet most of the people who would assert the argument use society as a measurement tool.

However, I've pointed out many examples of how society is dysfunctional as a whole. These fine people appear fine only because everybody is similar to them. Yet, everyone they are similar to may be screwed up too. Statistics favor this. Nearly everyone lies to themselves about how messed up they are.

We let the media define who is good and who is not. We know the media is controlled by parties who benefit from having everyone conform to a prescribed status quot. Remember Saddam's weapons of mass destruction? What about the global warning inevitability that has been disproved? Lets go a little deeper. Remember when everyone knew the world was flat?

We must learn to think for ourselves. This requires scrutinizing what we choose to believe when information is presented to us. It would have been great if our parents had used the Santa lie as an example of this when we first learned to look at the world. Instead, most of us grew up doing what the Jones's did. As a result, we're content with being blind followers of what we're told to believe. We defend many irrational beliefs out of stupidity and are proud of ourselves for doing it.

If a person chooses to remain ignorant during our times of information technology, I can't pity them. They are a part of the problem. I'm here to point this out to those who want to change our world into a better one. The truth is available although the powers that be benefit from its suppression. This is why they instill lusts in us via the media. As long as we're focused on working to get this or that , we never stop to look at what they are doing to us nor why.

They understand psychology very well. They use that knowledge to enslave us. Then they teach us to be happy in our bondage.

I don't know about anyone else, but I want my kids to think outside the box. To see what the world really is. To know they can always depend upon and trust their mother and I. I will be able to look at my children and always say I never lied to them. The little white lies included.

Always real ;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Diseased Society

I went out to Johnny's Sidebar last night. I really like the place. There's always a friendly welcoming crowd. Last night, I met a woman named Kayla Russel. She carried a box of candles which were being sold to raise money for Melissa Herdon's leukemia treatments. Melissa's insurance company refuses to pay for them. I didn't buy a candle, but I'm mailing a check to Melissa this morning.

This is intriguing since we live in one of the most productive countries in the world. Now, I'm no expert on the policies of foreign countries. I probably don't know everything I should about domestic policies. What I do know is a lot of people criticize our president's apparent socialist mindset.

I wonder if these critics are aware that in a socialist society education and health care are free. Even I know that Cuba has a record of importing foreigners to give them free educations in the medical field and then sending them home to practice in their native impoverished countries. Yet, Americans are taught to believe Castro was an evil dictator. I can't say he's evil or not, but I know this practice is honorable.

I'm not an advocate of socialism. I'm just trying to figure out why nobody thinks about the real motives of the capitalists we praise and in some cases worship. I use the word worship because we devote ourselves to political leaders and their propaganda more fervently than we do God in some cases.

While doing so, we create all types of chemicals to feed livestock, spray on vegetation, and directly ingest. These chemicals cause all types of diseases after long term use. Then we take medicines to cure the self-inflicted illnesses. These medicines have side effects that are really new diseases. Then we take more medicines to cure those, and on and on. For the sake of the profits for a few, the masses willingly poison themselves.

How can so smart a people be so stupid?

Always real,
Supaman Tion Terrell

Friday, May 21, 2010

Burn Out

For the past couple of months, my closest friends have been warning me about burn out. My response has always been, " I'm Supaman. I don,t know what burn out is."

Well, I know what it is now. I'm not at that point, but I was so close to it yesterday I was afraid of failure for the first time in a long time. It may sound hard to believe , but there is very little that I'm afraid of.

I hit the ground running on Feb 13th when I stepped of the bus at the St. Louis terminal. All my plans haven't worked out , but I never stopped making progress. Here lately, several things have been going wrong. Like most people would be, I'm disconcerted by the string of mishaps.

First, I learn that my publisher has changed the promotional plans for the "Think Outside the Cell Series. There will be no tour of the country to host forums. I've been telling the world this was coming! Instead, there will be one fantastic event that we expect to be covered by a global news broadcaster. There is also an event coming up in September in New York. However, for the latter, I was a mere after thought.

Then I was disappointed by a financial institution that guaranteed a loan, but after over a week of jumping through hoops, they tell me I don't qualify for the loan because I haven't been employed for three months.

Third, I spent a substantial amount of money in preparation for Wednesday's Poetry Slam competition to end up missing it entirely.

I refuse to mope about any of this. I have to keep fighting. I want a family and I intend to build a bright future for us. This means I have to keep working hard.

My greatest worry is about all the obligations I've taken on. Church, the choir, charity work, writing projects, work, gardening, and my friendships. I find myself strung out a little thin. I can manage all this, I just have to make the most of every minute of the day. I also need a lot of support from my friends. I get it though.

Thank you everybody!

Its easy to be Supaman when everything is going well. A string of letdowns can make one wonder how many more will come. I came so close to burnout because I started dwelling on the possibilities of failure. I almost ended up feeling depressed.

I had to stop and look at my life objectively. I've had more successes than failures. I've had just as much aid in my failures as Ive had in my successes. Therefore, I have no reason to dwell on the mishaps that may occur. I've made it this far because I've known all along that we can only achieve what we work for.

I'm getting back on the horse now, sore behind and all. I hope sharing this will inspire you all to never give up.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

A Bad Night

Well, I set out for the St. Louis Poetry Slam at 8:05pm Central Time. We got completely lost. Then, when we finally found the route Mapquest laid out for us, there was a detour that took us a half hour past our turn. I never made it to the venue.

I've been riding high for 3 straight months. Every once in a while unfortunate things occur. I have to be conscious of the fact that it must happen from time to time. Difficulties teach you who you really are.

I had a lot riding on tonight's event. It's very disappointing, but I have work to do. There is no time for moping. A castle can't be built by moping.

Besides, I stopped to get directions at a Greek restaurant to get directions when I was already 30 minutes late. The person who drove me wanted to eat anyway, so she had a baklava ala mode. I had a glass of the house Merlot that didn't impress me. I enjoyed myself though.

I had some time to think. The restaurant was nice. The service was excellent. The desert was quite marvelous. I had the chance to get to know an interesting person in my girlfriend's daughter.

There's a bright side to everything if you look for it.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Life's Lessons

I can be a bulldozer sometimes. I like leading this type of life. I try not to hurt others , but sometimes I must do what needs to be done in order to meet my objectives. Since my objectives are unselfish, it can't be said I have selfish motives.

I'm building a castle with a hand full of pebbles.

Its not an easy task. Especially since I depend so much on others fulfilling promises they make, with often good intentions, while lacking the ability to pull them off for whatever reason. This of course happens in personal and professional relationships. That's life.

But, I always have my instincts to fall back on. A man's heart leads him. Well, partly at least. The intellect plays a factor. A conscience is present in all of us too. Sadly though, some people are so damaged they don't know how to feel regret for many things other people might consider heinous. But this is a different matter.

What I wanted to explain here is that when you live a life that's true to yourself, everything else falls into place. Your faith is grounded in you and in the strengths and talents God provided. You can't please everyone so don't worry about that. Just be yourself and the rest will work itself out the way you deserve. That's the way life works.

When a person has do to things they'd rather not do, or believe they shouldn't do, it only hurts them in the long run. You can't feel good about selling yourself out!

Of course we should all be tactful. I forget that sometimes. It's the worst of my traits, I think. No one should be coerced by other human beings to do anything they are not proud of, nor happy about, what they have done.

The opposite side of that, however, is learning whether what others may want for us is better for us than what we want for ourselves.


Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Monday, May 17, 2010

Children's Problems

I just read a letter sent to me by Sharon Salaam, creator of "Walk With Me...Walk for Justice" Face Book Group. It's subject: The Supreme Court ruled that life sentences for juveniles, in most cases, is cruel and unusual punishment.

I feel this is a monumental decision. However, I regret that it was even necessary. Again we have the courts stepping in to take responsibility for our youth because the home failed the child.

Since I began this blog, I've always focused on the same thing. Sometimes I deviate from the goal of exploring ways to better our society for our children's sakes to entertain, but that's still a mean to keep ALL my readers interested in my posts. I haven't changed though. My purpose hasn't changed.

I look at the Supreme Court's decision and think, "Its a damned shame people raise their children in ways that produce murderers, drug addicts, sexual offenders, and some other things." In fact, I said this aloud in the presence of others.

One of them responded, "But sometimes, kids are mentally ill, and there's nothing parents can do about that.

I then said, "There's a difference between a mental disorder and a psychological disorder. Most people have psychological problems that are a consequence of their upbringing."

That is my thesis of tonight's blog.

It takes a lot of work on behalf of parents to stimulate a child in all ways required to produce a healthy human being. I'd bet my life that at least 75% of parents have no idea what the task requires. I've tried to give a few pointers, but I catch flack when I offend some people's tastes. (Remember the Santa Clause lie?)

I'm drawing the line here. You all will have to bear with me in the future. I'll be giving you real facts and lessons about psychology because until some readers comprehend the relevance of my assertions to their, and their children's psychological well being, they'll keep personalizing what I write and get defensive. They end up occupying my mental energies with babbling rationalizations.

My purpose is bigger than some people's feelings.

Always real,
Supaman Tion Terrell

Sunday, May 16, 2010

My Sunday

Today has been a day of much reflecting. It started with worries that I'm not as effective as I could be. I realized I waste too much time on pursuits that aren't good for me in the first place.

Then I went to church. I sang in the choir as usual, but after our last song I left the pews and found a place where I could be to myself to pray and think. I came the conclusion that I allowed myself to lose focus. It was easy too. A person's desires can lead them along paths they shouldn't travel before you even know it's happening.

Even Supaman has his weaknesses.

I posted a quote on Face Book this morning that represented my mood. Prov 12:11 I have to travel to New York in September. I need some computer accessories. I need a car. I do have a good friend who is trying to help with this. Hi Sarah.

I'm not complaining. I just had to take some time out to work out a feasible plan to acquire these things. Prioritizing is a hard thing to do. Especially when your heart is caught in a whirlwind, but I'll address that problem when I can figure out a way to get it all into words without boring my readers.

Overall, I guess I feel pretty good. I'm looking forward to the St. Louis Poetry Slam on Wednesday. I have love in my life. I'm well on my way to accomplishing my goals. I can feel good about all I've accomplished in 3 months since I've been out of prison. I would have to be very ungrateful to complain about my life.

Its important that we all be conscious of the decisions we make. More importantly we have to learn from our mistakes. The definition of insanity is to keep doing the same thing while expecting different results.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Proud but not Prejudice

In our struggle to obtain self-worth through the acquisition of power and prestige, its easy for blacks to look down on other blacks who weren't fortunate enough to capitalize on, or even possess, the tools and opportunities requisite to acquire such things.

On the other hand, blacks in America have to take steps toward freeing themselves from the systematic oppression that binds us.This must be done by establishing unity amongst the haves and the have-nots of the black populace.

We must stop perpetuating the William Lynch ideology.

Blacks have to learn who we are and what we are truly capable of. This entails more than studying African culture. Its common knowledge that blacks built America. Many inventions that whites have taken credit for and whose progeny still get rich off were brought to us through beautiful black minds. Our most recognized architecture was built by blacks. Yet today, the media instills in our youth that the best opportunities for our success are in entertainment or maybe military service.

All the bits of our history taught during February should serve as reminders that our people can overcome anything. Whether it be the cotton gin, light bulb, or peanut products, we have a lot to be proud of. We even have a black president--though some say he doesn't know what it's like to struggle like the rest of us.

The few blacks who are fortunate enough to be subjected to environments that nurture intellect and then later find avenues whereby the can excel within this capitalistic economy have no right to look down upon the less fortunate. Granted, I too grow tired of hearing capable adults make excuses for their personal failures. However, a person's lifestyle is almost always dictated by the belief system they internalized as small children.

Here lies the true issue.

Black communities were systematically poisoned. It's still happening. Housing projects in their various forms, the government organized illegal drug and gun trade, the ready availability of cheap alcohol in and around black communities are not happenstance!

When blacks seemingly escape the inherited yolk of oppression and graduates to economic mobility get big-headed enough to look down on those who fall victim to this system, they become a part of the problem. Worse still, are those who enable inactivity, finger pointing, and excuse making with cries for handouts or by providing them.

The black community can only be aided by ending the underhanded war that is being fought against them. Cries for money are usually nothing more than selfishly motivated hoopla. Its time for those who are in power to be held accountable for the drugs they import, the conspiracy to profit off the prison industry, and the under education and mis-education of black people. Until these occurrences are put to a stop, the black community will remain a subculture of self-destructive delinquents, despite the cosmetic opportunities some are rewarded as wage slaves.

Dread Scott vs. Sanford proves the Supreme Court knew the rights given to Americans by the Constitution didn't include blacks. The 13th, 14th, and 15th, Amendments gave us a few rights, but no one was expected to insure them for us. In fact the 13th guarantees we can be put into slavery all over again. Even the beloved President Clinton signed a bill limiting the exercise of our so-called rights in 1996.

Can anyone see that the real governing body in America intends to keep its foot on the necks of blacks?

Always real,
Supaman Tion Terrell

Thursday, May 13, 2010

What You asked for:

I had a discussion with my publisher today. We have agreed that my explanation of the transition from prison to productive citizen that is included in the "Think Outside the Cell Series" should be shared with my readers prior to the book's release.

This is only half of my story. The second half. In the first half, I talk about the occurrences that lead me to prison and serve a 10yr sentence. I'm not at liberty to share the first half now.


A CRUEL WORLD AWAITS
by:
Tion Terrell
In “My First Prison Education” I discussed the lessons I learned as a result of recidivism and multiple incarcerations. I also mentioned my plans for the future. I’m now going to share with you the reality of the cruel world I’ve found upon being released.I found love shortly after I submitted the above story for publication. I moved in with this wonderful woman upon my release. We live in Collinsville, IL in an upper class predominately white community. She lives on a fixed income however, so I knew my challenges would be many despite my extensive managerial experience and upcoming success as an author poet. The world I found is more fraught with peril than I anticipated. A month after my release, I’m still struggling to acquire necessities (i.e. transportation, clothes, and a social network, etc.) Reentry assistance programs are limited here in Madison County. The few that I’ve found are for those on probation/parole. Most alarming of all is the fact that, due to my indigence, I can’t receive any mental health counseling while I psychologically adjust to society after almost ten years of incarceration. The last three of which were spent in segregation, which is known throughout the mental health professions to induce psychological deterioration.After many frustrations, I was referred to the local politicians by my publisher Sheila who, bless herheart, is just as angry about all of this as I am. First, I called the State Representative Jay Hoffman’s office. I dealt with a woman named Roberta who found a program that would help me, but only after I completed orientation and a three day class.The program is Reentry One Stop (R.E.O.S) in St. Louis, MO-a neighboring state. Bus fair would cost approximately $32. Her office couldn’t help me with that.How am I supposed to transit back and forth?Next, I called the mayor’s office. Sherrell Brombolich, the City Clerk, was as helpful as she could be under the circumstances. She sent me to the Clerk of Courts who connected me to the Dept. of Probation. I then spoke with Suzanne Johnson, a friendly delightful and very helpful probation officer who unfortunately could not work miracles and direct me to resource programs that were non-existent. I must give Mayor John Miller credit for personally following up on my call.
After hanging up with the City Clerk, I Called Township Hall where the people listed in the phone book as the City Board of Supervisors work. There I spoke with a Mr. Terry Allen. He referred me to the Presbyterian Church which hosts a food pantry. I visited the church and was told about a thrift clothing program that would work with me since I was indigent and that I would be aided with transportation once I found a job. The pastor said he wanted to see me helping myself. This was disconcerting though understandable.
Still, where will I get bus fare from to search for work?
I’ve taken my search for assistance to the federal officials too. Its too soon to expect in depth answers from such busy persons, but Senator Bill Haine’s office made some calls on my behalf. Congressman Jerry Costello’s office sent some information via U.S. Mail and so did Senator Richard Durban’s Office.
Another call to Representative Hoffman’s office resulted in a call to the Dept. of Probation. One of the supervisors of that office called me-with a bad attitude-and said she’d look in to it. I got Suzanne’s number from her then called Suzanne. She told me about two businesses she knew of that sometimes hired people with criminal backgrounds. I called both, but only reached someone at one restaurant.
The co-owner of that establishment told me to come in after 10:30 am. I got there at eleven and was told to come back at three. This left me with time to kill and $3 to my name. Going home and coming back would’ve left me broke.
I prolonged my job search. I visited several restaurants since this is where my experience lies. I also stopped at Township Hall and spoke with a nice woman named Marilyn. She told me that she would speak with her supervisor Terry Allen about aiding me with a bus pass.
Still having time to kill, I went to the public library to get a library card, and to borrow some books. I was surprised by how busy the library was. When I commented on this, the librarian said there had been an increase in the number of books being borrowed lately.
I responded, “I should have you call my publisher and say that.”
That comment led to the arranging of 2 book signings featuring yours truly.
When the conference call through which these arrangements were made ended, it was time for my three o’clock interview which turned out to be a rejection before it even began. What was funny was my resume hadn’t even been looked at. I’m qualified to run the place. Plus, my upcoming notoriety as an author and poet would mean publicity and sales for my employer.
I’m forced to wonder if my ex-con status blinded the owners to my skills, qualifications, and potential after all. It wouldn’t surprise me. I’ve been the victim of prejudices of all types. One of my neighbors sent the police to question me after I gave her a note that suggested we could be friends. And, YES, that’s all it suggested. The crazy part is that the police bothered to look into such a trifling complaint.
Then again, I’m a black ex-con, in a neighborhood where they feel I don’t belong, and she is a young attractive white woman.
Well, after leaving the pointless interview, I stepped into Jay Hoffman’s office.I met Roberta. Her lack of enthusiasm for participation in our discourse seeped through her pores. It seemed to me that she rated me and my problems as nothing more than an inconvenient nuisance. I think I understand why though.
I hold no grudges. She’d been told that all reentry assistance is provided to Illinois prisoners before they are released. I told her she wasn’t given the whole truth, but she didn’t care to hear that. Her argument was the question, “Then how come no other recently released prisoners have come into this office with complaints like yours?”
I responded, “Because over eighty percent of prisoners leave prison with criminal intent in the first place.
She didn’t respond. I went on to explain that the reentry resources I’m seeking aren’t provided inside prison. They don’t provide state IDs, bus passes, clothes, nor psychological debriefing for prisoners.
She wouldn’t even consider that I might be telling the truth.
Then I explained that a weaker man left in my position would be considering criminal activity as a means to survive. She quickly warned me not to say such things. I think she thought I was making a threat.
As I write this two of my problems have been solved. I will pick up free clothing in a few days. Marilyn called a few hours ago to tell me the Township Hall will provide bus tickets to get me to and from St Louis for the R.E.O.S. program.
Other than this, I’m at a loss. Ms. Johnson at probation has been working hard to find some answers though, but that’s not exactly good news. If she is a probation officer and doesn’t know how to help an ex-con locate resources, they are embarrassingly scarce.
I wonder if the recidivism and repeat offender statistics are higher here than in other places.
My experiences force me to point out two things:
1. Prisoners must work their absolute hardest and utilize every tool at their disposal to grow, change, educate and prepare themselves. Sadly though, too few of them do this.
2. Because too few prisoners do this, prisons are warehouses that enable treatment counselors, psychologists, administrators, investors and even some politicians to earn livings for nothing. The few inmates who participate in so-called treatment programs aren’t required, nor encouraged, and in some cases even not allowed, to apply themselves. They are shuffled through the programs so the conductors can meet their quotas. Thus, the administrators meet their quotas- and on and on it goes up the ladder.
The policy makers get snowjobbed-some of them willingly-about what is really happening. They get to pretend the system is working while the problem gets worse. The real crime is that the constituents’ attention is diverted from the reality that criminal justice spending increases while public education spending decreases.
I’ve been labeled a “Crusader” by those closest to me because of my determination to educate the public about this sad reality. The real truth is that, if we as individuals don’t attempt to be part of the solution, we are all contributors to the problem’s propagation.
Crime will spread. It can do nothing else.
In fact, I laughed at this yesterday when I saw Roberta walk her dog. She does this everyday right in front of my house.
How ironic is that?
The average person doesn’t care about my struggle until someone like myself turns them or one of their loved ones into a victim. Then they are quick to point the finger of blame without comprehending that desperation, miseducation, and/or ignorance drives people to criminal activity. All of which is a direct consequence of our society’s social and economic injustices.
So, now I’ve accepted the responsibility of making sure all the prejudiced finger-pointers are pointing at mirrors. . .

Of course, my readers know I've overcome my obstacles while many who will be released from prison will not be able to. I even showed evidence from a prison psychologist that this is true. I want the people of America to stand up and make politicians do the jobs they are payed to do. Protect us from the crime created by social diseases. This can only be done by treating the social diseases. Most importantly, as human beings we all must fight to cure social diseases by bettering ourselves and our families.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

The Way We See People

Today, I posted a message and link on my facebook page to thank my readers for their support. I love you all and I appreciate your support. I felt the link was a great way to express that appreciation.



I want to talk about the way we see people, because it's important that we be concious of the way people see us. I hear a lot of people whine about their lives. Often rightfully so, people complain their lives are crap. What amazes me is that they don't realize it's their own fault.



Appearances often dictate how people perceive us. How people perceive us dictates what they receive from us. People pass judgement quickly. Some may call this analizing or assessing or whatever, but it all amounts to the same thing. Especially since we all see through lenses colored by lessons we learned through life's experiences.



If you want to be a winner in life, you have to learn to be a winner. You learn this by acting like one, speaking like one, dressing like one and thinking like one. If you don't take the necessary steps, you won't reach the desired destination.



It doesn't get any simpler than that.



If you want something better for your life, go out and get it. The only thing stopping you is you.



Always real;

Supaman Tion Terrell

Monday, May 10, 2010

What's Your Advice?

My friend Brett made a comment on yesterdays post that requires a public reply.


Brett you're right. Allowing our children to watch television in the absence of a person who will explain the realities behind the things they see will cause problems in the child's psychological development. They'll witness sex, all sorts of violence, chemical substance abuse, and absorb all sorts of propaganda that will brainwash them.


Now, on to the subject of todays post. Something has been bothering me since I landed in prison. Three women, with whom I had sexual relations, had babies near the time of my arrest. The last of the three allowed me to wear the guilt of abandoning my son for ten years, then told me a month after my release the child wasn't mine.

I still haven't given myself time to deal with the emotions arroused by that fiasco.

The first to give birth claimed that her child's father was her fiance. She'd broken up with him to date me. When she and I broke up, she went back to him.

The second to give birth told me that she would allow her husband to believe her unborn child was his child although she was sure I was the father.

Let me stop and take credit for my torment by acknowledging this is all my fault by choosing such honorable women to sleep with.

My point is I'm in hell right now. Since I was a child, I promised myself I would be a better father to my children than my father was to me. I get sick just thinking about these children who may or may not be mine.

I've discussed a father's role in the family several times in previous posts. Imagine how it feels to know I'm a hypocrite. One thing I don't like about myself is my helplessness regarding these children. The emotional part of me wants to look the women up and track them down right now. The rational side of myself tells me to wait until I am in a better financial position to provide for these children before I disrupt their lives just to say hi. I wouldn't be able to afford visits, phone calls, nor minimal support. I feel listening to my emotions on this one would be an act of selfishness.

I want to know what you all think. Email me at (terrelltion@yahoo.com)

Always real;

Supaman Tion Terrell






Sunday, May 9, 2010

A Real Deep Thought

Happy Mother' s Day ladies!

I had a beautiful day today. Church was nice. I always meet interesting and good people. Then I came home and grilled for the family. After eating gluttonously, I took the family's mothers out for an evening of bowling. I haven't been home a full hour yet.

I don't explain all this to serve as an excuse. I am simply allowing you to be a part of my life.

But, on to the topic of tonight's blog. I've seen many things that I simply forgot existed. One of them is homelessness. It's a shame that what is arguably the most powerful land in the world is also a place of many pitiful sub cultures.

The homeless are not just junkies and drunks my friends. They are children too. Children who may find themselves victims of predators who can do things to them that could ruin them for life. Predators we may see as upstanding lovable people.

Take it from someone who knows. I only write about things I know to be fact, either through personal experience or observation.

The women who sell their bodies often have children who shack up wherever they are told. When there is no place to stash small children the children may get to witness things you may not be able to imagine. What kind of adults do you think these children will grow up to be?

I share this with you as one example of why it takes a village to raise a child.

All the little unfortunate circumstances that we so eagerly ignore contribute to greater social destruction. All the so-called God-fearing institutions should be working together to make our world a better one. I can give so many examples of sickness in our society you'd get sick of me.
What are we really doing about them?

I'm not criticizing anyone. I guess you could see this as a warning. Do you really want to stand before your God without a ligitimate answer to my previous question.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Two Poems

My Greatest Confession

Often, I express my love.
In word and in deed.
I want to give you all that God has created.

You mended a shattered lonely soul.
You provided hope I didn't know I lacked.
For your gifts, I'm forever grateful.

I've seen hell in this life.
I'd endure it all again just to find you.
You've proved true love is all I really need.

This love I feel will outlive the Heavens.
It's more vital than the blood in my veins.
I am all that I am because you love me.
. . .


My promise

Never has someone loved like I.
The sky will fall before anyone could.
The world may stop turning.
But, if you are loving me I wouldn't notice.

You're a part of every breath I take.
I see your face on every cloud.
Your voice trails every sound I hear.
Your scent floats on every breeze.

Your smile lurks just behind my eyelids.
Your eyes haunt my every waking moment.
You're a phantom in all my dreams.
My soul aches to have you nearer.

My heart belongs to you.
I'm reminded each time it beats.
I will love even after I part this life.
My last breath will have your name on it.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Friday, May 7, 2010

Loving Mom

I've written about my childhood. I addressed the horrors I suffered as a small child. I think I even discussed my mother. Tonight I will go into greater detail.

When I was born, my mother left me with her parents. She wanted to establish her independence before taking responsibility for me. She came to get me when I was about two, but my grandparents emotionally blackmailed her into leaving me with them.

I was told that she gave me up at birth and that she never wanted me. She confirmed the lie by always treating my little sister as if she was the only child she loved. Once, she asked me to take off my shirt. I did it. She blew my sister's nose with it, and gave it back. Then, when I was twelve, I spent Christmas with her. My sister got a room full of gifts, but I didn't even get a "Merry Christmas."

When I was old enough to work, mom used my sister as an excuse to con money out of me. I moved in with mom at age 18. I caught her and my sister plotting to manipulate me out of money. During this time I was working and selling crack cocaine. Mom and I smoked crack together often. When we weren't getting high together, we argued.

I moved out of mom's house after getting shot. Two people whom I thought were friends tried to rob me. I beat them up pretty badly. Then, one of them grabbed a gun out of the belt of a person who tried to break up the fight. He shot me in the back as I ran home.

My purpose in running home was to get my gun. I learned, however, that mom had sold me gun earlier that day to get high. Then she smoked all my drugs and spent all my money while I was in the hospital overnight. She even maintained a friendship with the people who tried to kill me.

But you know what, I love my mom.

Without her, I wouldn't be here. Obviously all that life has given me has been for a reason. I love the man I am, despite my imperfections. I couldn't be who I am without my past. I love my mom because she gave birth to Supaman. Nothing she has done or could ever do will change the fact that she carried me in her womb for 9 months and then suffered labor so that I could experience life.

It doesn't matter that my life has been a living hell!

I want all of you to think about the gift you were given that we call life. With Mother's Day coming up, it's important that you show some appreciation for the woman who made life possible for you.

She may not be perfect, but neither are you. None of us is capable of doing everything right--even when that is our sincere intent.

I never had someone I could look at as a mother, but I know I'd be less of a man if it weren't for the women who tried to love me. Most of them did this even when I didn't deserve it.

It really doesn't matter how many times your mother has let you down. You let yourself down don't you?

We only get one life on this Earth. That life is made possible through a mother. So please, try to be kind to your mothers. You don't have to wait for Mother's Day to do it. You shouldn't stop doing it after Mother's Day.

Your mother is your mother from the time you are born and until one of you dies. She should be appreciated during that time, and even afterwards if you happen to survive her.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Johnny's Sidebar

I had a blast at Johnny's Sidebar's open mic last night. The crowd wasn,t big due to other festivities in town, but the people I met were neighborly. It was a welcomed change from my experiences in Collinsville so far.

Other than people at church, this town has been rather unaccepting. I see blatant racism and other prejudices. I still wouldn't say this is a bad town though. In fact part of the rejections I've endured are, in part, mt fault. I should've known better than to think I could come straight out of prison and earn trust and respect by simply putting my best foot forward.

Sometimes we look at the world as if it was the way we want it to be, or the way we think it should be.

I can't remember a time since the moment of my release when I was as happy as I am now! I've found a place I can call home that will give me an outlet to express myself. I expect to appear at Johnny's Side Bar quite often.

Oh. I can't forget I sang last night too. I doubt if I was very good. I'd already started on a Corvoursier [Ihope I spelled it right]. Love made me do it. When you have someone in your life who'll go as far out of their way as my lover has, its only right that you go out of your way to show your appreciation.

Sadly, my relationship is a complication all its own. Ican't even make since of it in a version short enough to pot.

My poetry was recieved well, I think. It pissed a few people off, but I am a man of my word. I guess I could tone it down a bit. I probably won't though. I love poetry. I love writing. It's the one chance you get to express yourself fully without getting interrupted. Its not my fault if my audiene is not ready to hear something they don't agree with.

I will close now. Hello to everyone who vists this blog today because they liked what they saw and heard last night. Thanks to you, and my friends who've stood behind Supaman since we've stumbled into each other's lives.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Humpday Entertainment

Pro-Life versus Pro-Choice - what audacity.
We wouldn't need abortion if we guarded our chastity.
But here in America we look at murder practically.
Why not - we're already saved.
Some say that's blasphemy.
But I know better.
We call others extremists if they worship God emphatically.
Label them terrorists when a few act haphazardly.
Wasn't America stolen by creating calamaties.
In Japan two bombs a quarter million fatalities.
Vietnam and Korea are similar catastrophes.
All the wars in Iraq criminal masterpieces.
They say God blesses America because its built on Christianity.
There's a criminal, drug addict and whore in every family.
Build thousands of prisons and fill them automatically.
Only incarcerate those who don't live lavishly.
The rich get richer, move more than just laterally.
If you can't support the system it holds you down like gravity.
Took the scriptures and so-called revised them grammatically.
Use the new text to propagate false reality.
Blind following pulpit crooks with sharp strategies.
Get conned out of your socks and go home happily.
Part the doors and go back to living savagely.
I heard even the Pope condones homosexuality.
They tell you who your Gods are and do so dramatically.
They call it media, we hold it in majesty.
Do you worship God or a famous personality?
That they control like a puppet with excellent mastery.
The entertainment industry charges us like batteries.
They can make you eat poison if its low in fat calories.
We tell our youth not to lie while putting them in their vocabularies.
What's true about Santa, the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy?
This is just a peek at America's reality.
To some this is strength - it's what they want for totality.
Is America great or is this insanity?
I see tyrants trying to bully all of humanity.
Now that I've vented I pose this as my finale'.
How can oppressed citizens be proud of our nationality.

Always real;

Supaman Tion Terrell

Monday, May 3, 2010

House Niggers

First of all, allow me to apologize for not posting a blog yesterday. It was something I couldn't help. I share this computer with three others. Two of us are college students. The other had final exams to prepare for. This is why I invested $1,000 in my own computer. It should be delivered within a week.

I sang in the church choir Sunday. I enjoyed it despite being the only black person in the choir.

That's not unusual for me. I'm often amongst white people, and not always by choice. I'm not stupid enough to be racist, so that's not what I'm getting at. Every since I entered upper management and began conducting myself like a professional, I find it hard to be accepted by many black people.

I still can't figure out how speaking proper English is "talking white." Or how behaving in a productive civilized manner is "acting fake" and being a "house nigger."

Its a shame that in the impoverished black communities the criminal is more socially accepted than the good student.

Obviously, people in ghettos like their conditions. They don't want anything better for themselves, because they don't believe they have a right to anything better. Some who believe they have that right don't have anyone around them to teach them how to obtain anything better. This is why young people turn to crime.

They grew up getting trained for the criminal institution. Its cyclical because they learn to and aspire to do the things they see adults around them do.

This was the plan of course. As soon as the blacks began to develop a sense of pride, it was seen to that drugs flooded our communities. We bought into it. They gave us gangster movies, and gangster rap to serve as role models. We bought into that too. Our children now want to grow up to live lives of welfare, violence, crime, incarceration, chemical dependence and self-destruction.

Since these are the people fulfilling the master's plan, they are the real "House Niggers."

What happened to Black Power? What happened to Black Pride?

We allow the people who want to make us extinct to trick us into killing each other. They even make money off us while we do it.

I get sick to my stomach just thinking about it. Most black people lay in the sties designated for us and wallow in the waste contentedly. How in hell did being "Gutter" become a good thing?

The black people who escape the death trap by breaking into mainstream society are no longer welcomed back by the people who could not get out. Most of them are too proud to go back anyway.

I can't be the only person who realizes my people are an endangered species on this continent!

Always real;

Supaman Tion Terrell

Saturday, May 1, 2010

My Adjustment Problems

Yesterday,in "Prison Rehab Doesn't Exist," I showed you how a prison psychologist set me up for potential failure with her response to an essay I sent to her. I posted that essay the day before "Getting Better Makes Prisoners Worse."

I've done well for myself thanks to my faith, and family (home and church). I've made a lot of mistakes too, but I'll discuss those later. First, I want to explain something very critical.

The average prisoner doesn't possess the knowledge of psychology the psychologist praised me for. That means they won't be able to make the adjustment to being a productive member of of society as well as I have. Despite the psychologist's confidence in me, I haven't had it easy.

Adjusting to society after 9.5 years inside prison has posed many challenges. All my friends know from previous posts how much I've accomplished. However, I have I knack for offending people when I don't mean to.

In prison, I had to have a hard heart in order to survive. As a result, I spoke bluntly. I had a take-no-shit attitude. I've had to learn that not everyone can handle my straightforwardness. Another mistake I made was trying to be too helpful.

A lot of people get offended. This is their emotional right. However, to do so over a simple misunderstanding is more emotional work than necessary. It easier to try to resolve matters--as long as you're dealing with rational people. However, some feel I have no right to tell them how to improve something they are already good at. Some think I'm being a know-it-all.

I've had difficulty dealing with women too. I'm very assertive. I love and appreciate all women. If I'm attracted for whatever reason {attraction doesn't have to be sexual} I make that known. I most often tried to break the ice by showering compliments. It always worked in prison-what else would I try? I think Ive been scaring people (especially women who know little about me other than the fact that I've spent time in prison.

It's been hard to balance my life with all its new responsibilities: work, blogging, marketing my writing, family, church, social life, budgeting and unexpected surprises. For ten years, I haven't had these obligations.

Sometimes I've bitten off more than I can chew. Sometimes I've come across as arrogant when I try to put my best foot forward. I often make the mistake of trusting people to do what they say they'll do.

I fully understand. I can't always do what I intend to do. Its called being human to some. I call it irresponsible (even when I'm guilty of it.) Its bad because we can cause problems for others who depend on us.

Despite these setbacks, I can feel good about all I have achieved in less than three months. I'm most proud of the new computer I bought. Fully loaded.

In all, society fails its citizens that return to it from prison. We fail them by not insuring that prisoners who want to better themselves are given the guidance and tools they need while incarcerated. [Remember, most prisoners don't know what it means to get better.] Most of them reenter society as outcasts and are usually driven back to crime.

This must stop. If we want crime to stop--which would save money that goes into the criminal justice system--we have to prevent the spread of the criminal institution I explained in "A Theory of Institutionalization." In order do this right we must prevent prisoners from teaching the institution to children. That means we have to teach the prisoners how to break themselves out of the criminal mindset.

On a personal note, I sincerely apologize to those I'm sure I've upset because of my ignorance. I beg your forgiveness.

Always real;
Supaman Tion Terrell