Life in this particular prison dorm may or may not be like the other prison dorms (though I imagine they share an awful lot), but by damn is it interesting. The differences between dorm and cell life are many, and in some (ok, most) cases an improvement, though honestly I’d still prefer a cell for cleanliness. Cells certainly do not have prayer call, skittle call, roaming groups of R&B singers, Christian Crusades, or the sheer variety of insanity that dorms (this one, at any rate) have. This particular dorm has been described by me as the Warehouse of Weirdos, and a more apt description you’ll not find.
For example, as mentioned earlier, this whole building is nothing but sex offenders – the lowest of the low, sickest of the sick – so there are a lot of pedophile jokes (and gay jokes – but those are universal in prisons) floating around… some of which are moderately amusing. “What did one pedophile say to the other?” – “Hey, get out of my son!” God help me, I actually laughed when I overheard that one (that leads me to my desensitization rant, but later). That also means that people very carefully do NOT talk about their cases, whereas I imagine (and others have confirmed) that in “normal” prison dorms, the inmates spend a lot of time telling war stories and bragging about their cases. They also, generally, do not get all shifty-eyed and nervous when the cop show they’re watching or the evening news bandies about the term “rape” or “sex offender”.
Here we have a few things, amusing if you look at it the right way, that most other dorms don’t. Sex offenders have a higher-than-average number of people on psychiatric meds, according to the Bureau of Facts I Pulled Out of My Ass, and the thrice-daily calls for medication (or ‘skittle call’) are events not to be missed, and chock full o’ nuts…. er, hilarity.
In the morning, them as have need of medication are summoned by a CO shouting “Meds! Diabetics! Finger stickers! Insulin junkies! Zombies! Nut jobs! Stressed outs! Old people and sick people! Get your medications!” and the herd shuffles off to the infirmary for their morning dose of whatever. Afternoon skittle call is merely a boring “Carry meds, meds line up and head to the infirmary!” But the evening call is a combination of a John Romero flick and a cattle drive. It is truly a thing of great joy and beauty for me.
The relatively cool second shift CO hops up on the crate of Outside Toys for Inmates and, head thrown back, hands cupped as a makeshift bullhorn, bellows “Piiiiiiiiiiiilllll caaaaaaalllll!” and does a little sailoresque jig, while all through the dorm the inmates call back “Yeeehaw! Head ‘em up, move ‘em out! Taste the rainbow, motherfuckers! Rapists…hooooo! Know your doses, know your doses!” The inmates heading out for skittle call, just waking up from their morning dose of psych meds, shuffle and stagger like an oddly docile herd of zombies on their way to a zombie jamboree (no, NOT back to back or belly to belly.) I always have the urge to lurch along behind them moaning “Braaaaaaaiiins”, but have thus far been able to resist.
The Christian Crusades are related to prayer calls, but vastly more amusing, so I’ll talk about them last. On to prayer calls…well, a note on religion here, first. In this dorm, there are two authorized religions: “CHRISTIAN!” and “black-guys-who-are-Muslim-or-whatever”. The CHRISTIANS! are the ones who do the authorizing and most of the judging of “others”. (Note: this does NOT reflect my opinion of Christianity, or any other religions. I am mocking these people for their false piety and general assness, ok?) “Others” are anyone dumb enough to not be in the majority or large and scary looking. Obviously, I am an Other.
The stated purpose of prayer call is to “Come together as CHRISTIAN! men in the sight of God and praise His name as purified CHRISTIAN! men who are the only Chosen of God.” The mechanics of prayer call, an inmate-sanctioned, not State/Department of Corrections-sanctioned event, are fairly simple: any CHRISTIAN! can holler out “prayer call” at any time and expect an eager crowd of like-minded men to group up in the center aisle between bunks and form a circle. After everyone has linked up, a “preacher” is chosen (Creepy Guy is often chosen for this) and the prayer begins. The prayer starts off nicely, thanking God for this and that, wishing everyone well, peace and all the usual good thoughts stuff, truly a good Christian (hell, any religion) prayer. Then the fun starts. The preacher picks a topic or group to specifically pray for. This varies from call to call, but usually centers around a “group” that has done something to that specific person that day. Sometimes it might be a group that the preacher particularly dislikes… like – and I’m quoting here – “fag motherfuckers”, “fucking Arab terrorists who will burn in Hell” (there was a VERY disturbing chorus of “fucking Arabs” for this one), and my personal fave, “those poor misguided sinners who will burn in Hell for all eternity because they are outside of this prayer circle.” Yeah, they went there. Wow. Anyway, the hate-fest masquerading as prayer continues on for a few minutes, and then my favorite is up: the I-Am-Way-More-Pious-Than-You event, or “testimonials” as they call it.
The preacher turns it over to the group to “pray over” or “for” whatever the topic is and “give your own testimonial for God and all good CHRISTIANS!” Each inmate tries to top the last with their own personal story of “Heathen inmates I have seen here who will burn in Hell but I forgive them because I found JESUS and he HEALED me because I took Him into my HEART as a CHRISTIAN! like the heathen inmates should.” This is the most interesting part of the whole thing. I wish I could record one of these sessions for you guys, they truly are a symphony of hatred and intolerance.
Disclaimer: These guys are not true Christians (clearly), and the above is not intended to mock anyone other than these particular assclowns. I named them CHRISTIAN! because that is how they always say Christian, though they usually add half a dozen more exclamation points and a larger, bolder font. I am embarrassed on behalf of all decent human beings and decent Christians because of these guys.
On the one hand, I’m horrified by these guys, but I can’t help being amused by them. These guys are the first ones to invoke the name of God to chastise others, yet are the most frequently in trouble for fighting, stealing, and extorting people for food, you know, those godly activities. They are also responsible for the Crusades, the best thing ever for an avowed people watcher like me.
The Crusades are, as far as I can tell, mainly about giving food to Jesus, who appears to be particularly fond of Little Debbies and Mountain Dew. I mean, it starts off with one of the CHRISTIAN! Heavies for Jesus trying to spout relevant Bible passages to enlighten the heathen who didn’t respond to the prayer call, but it always ends with an extortion attempt and sometimes with a fight. The Bible passages are always mangled and twisted, and when they made it to my bed I was on the receiving end of “Jesus gave His only begotten son, Adam, so that you can be a CHRISTIAN! and not fear His holy flaming sword”, and for a minute I was just totally stunned at the beauty of that statement. Jesus gave his son Adam so that I could be unafraid of Jesus’s flaming sword? Holy wow!
Furthermore, when asked clarifying questions, my team of Heavies for Jesus indicated that yes, Jesus was Adam’s dad, and Jesus did have a flaming sword that he used to cut down the apple tree that Satan tricked Eve into eating fruit from and for destroying the fags in Sodom and Gomorrah. I was instantly carried away with thoughts of big budget movies depicting the second coming of Christ where Jesus and his son Adam team up to fight evil with flaming swords…a cross between Lethal Weapon and Conan the Barbarian. I may have giggled.
When I mentioned that I was Buddhist and that I was unfamiliar with their version of the Bible, I got the best reaction ever…two blank stares, followed by “Didn’t Jesus meet Buddha and kill him on a road somewhere?” from Heavy #1 and a “Yeah, I read that in Revolutions the other day” from Heavy #2. I tried to resist a fit of laughter, and mostly succeeded. I just couldn’t stop picturing a Crouching Tiger-esque battle between Buddha and Jesus, complete with flaming swords, chop socky martial arts, and dueling parables… man…
Apparently Jesus, with his heavy jones for Little Debbies and Mountain Dew, desires you to give these items to His followers, because they ask and because doing the will of God is thirsty work. If you decline because you have none of these items, they will frown and ask for ramen noodles, cookies, and coffee. If you again have none of these items, the frowns deepen and you are reminded that “liars make Jesus angry.” I so wanted them to say that I wouldn’t like Him when He is angry, but no luck, it was only implied. They will then ask you to open your locker box to prove that you are honest.
If you are foolish enough to do so, you may as well say goodbye to anything in there, for it will be appropriated for Jesus, though I honestly can’t figure out why Jesus needs all of these Little Debbies and ramen noodles. I, being the smart and untrusting bastard that I am, escaped this by the simple expedient of not playing their game. I merely pointed out that if Jesus wanted them to have my stuff, He’d have given it to them straight out. I promised them that I would read up on the Bible because this Jesus sounds pretty damn interesting, and away they went, hungry, thirsty, and mildly confused that the weird little white guy didn’t give in. Later, I borrowed one of their Bibles, but was unable to find anything about the Jesus/Buddha grudge match or Jesus and His flaming sword killing apple trees and homosexuals.
I remain mildly disappointed.