Ohh…. I've been sick in bed all day. In that time BMEshop has done a great reprint of the Hanya hoody, one of the first designs we ever printed… this time with blood.
Ohh…. I've been sick in bed all day. In that time BMEshop has done a great reprint of the Hanya hoody, one of the first designs we ever printed… this time with blood.
Sorry it took so long, but the top contributor shirts are now on their way out to everyone. I think they turned out amazing with a nice big huge print on the front of this limited edition design (which Deadboy has as part of his BME-themed project).
I visited my friend Saira today who finally had a chance to completely gut her house. It's an older house so it originally had many small rooms and was quite cramped feeling, but they've knocked out all of the walls and it's amazing the transformation that's taking place.
Before I head out for my evening plans (which include editing a Vincent Hoquet interview for tomorrow, with Allen Falkner and many intereting others coming soon), I am posting my promised content… My prison diaries are, as I warned, quite brief as my stay was limited to all of about twelve hours, having been arrested and processed in the evening and then released the next morning.
Three other bad sheep were in neighboring cells. One of the guys was being transferred between prisons and had been sitting in this holding cell for twenty-four hours waiting for a wagon to deliver him to his final destination. He yelled regularly, out of boredom I think, but was polite, in part because they hadn't fed him in eighteen hours (I'm really not sure if that's legal) and he was hoping that someone would bring him a sandwich. Every hour or so someone would good-naturedly promise to get him something when they went out for a coffee, but I don't think anyone ever did.
A little later a completely drunk couple was picked up, I think for fighting in the street, possibly with each other. This guy did a lot more screaming than the other, and was quite hostile, threatening and taunting and insulting the police with much bragging about his fighting skills, as well as about various crimes and drug use , which didn't seem to me to be a particularly bright thing to be doing, if only because a good relationship with ones jailer is probably a good thing? I guess he didn't care though because whatever he'd done was a bail violation and he was in the wrong jurisdiction to top it off, so no matter what he was going to be in jail for a while.
Anyway, the part of the story that I actually quite liked was that I had been put in the very end cell, which meant that I was next to the staff room. I tried to nap, but got only an hour or two of sleep, so mostly I just listened to the police. Because it's not every day someone covered with the specific types of tattoos that I have — or the body modifications that I have — they had something to talk about. They went on about how weird I looked, but every time they'd say that, they'd qualify it with “but he's such a nice guy” or “and he's really calm” and various negative comments about the others involved, which definitely helped make the whole situation all the more non-threatening.
I actually found it kind of strange that once arrested anyone would bother resisting… It's not as if it will do you any good. I figure once you're behind bars, your job is to con everyone you meet into being your friend because you may find yourself needing a lot of favors… and certainly it's not as if any good can come from negativity in that situation. After all, I might find myself being the guy in need of a sandwich!
Morning came and a big shipment of people was delivered and since they didn't have enough staff at the time to process me, I was released on recognizance and without any conditions of release other than I had to return a few weeks later for full processing, which involved being fingerprinted and photographed, which was interesting because they have a cool ink-free scanner device for doing it. I chatted with the officer about tattoos, and he asked if he could take pictures of my various mods for my file, but since it was optional I declined, and while he was interested in seeing them all, I think he was relieved he didn't have to fiddle with what seemed to be an occasionally uncooperative computer more than he had to.
Not particularly exciting, I know.
So I was reading the election results from last night, and they were giving the breakdown of “blacks voted 83% for Obama” and stuff like that. I found that [typically] offensive, because it diverts from the truth and demeans the real reasoning behind the voting. I'd suggest that “blacks” vote the way they do primarily because of class issues (ie. their income bracket and so on) rather than race issues. When the media just calls it “the black vote” they ignore the reality that there are serious class issues in America, and they dwarf racial issues.
That said, on the “race card” issue, I did find it interesting that in the Clinton ads, they darken and actually widen Obama's face to make him look “more black”.
Whew! What a forgetful day I've had. I locked my keys in my truck, so after Nefarious and I were done at the park we had to call a towtruck to pop my lock. After we got to the park we took a break to eat a bunch of cinnamon bread that Caitlin baked so it broke my normal key-handling rhythm I guess… I debated searching the park for bits to pop the lock, but it was already getting late.
A while back I drew up a bloody “remix” for the Hanya shirt designed by Johann by request — this one I believe is hitting the presses in the next few days (watch Ryan's page).
Anyway, I'm stuffed from spaghetti, and watching the primaries (looking good for Obama) until this crazy season of Big Brother 9 starts up again. Our theory for the various reality shows on right now is that the current agreed-upon formula for casting is to choose the dumbest A-types one can find to make “good” TV. Definitely one of the stranger BB and Survivor seasons…