Tracy Connor, "KKK Police Shocker," The Daily News, October 26, 2007, at p. 16 and http://www.nydailynews.com/
Spacing may be affected in this essay as new obstacles and harassment, emanating from protected N.J. officials, continue to be directed against these writings. Criminal censorship and defacement efforts, making the character of New Jersey's legal system all-too obvious to readers everywhere, can only help to establish the validity of my criticisms, as does the increasing complicity of N.J. government workers in this illegal effort to silence a dissident.
October 28, 2007 at 5:07 P.M. a new virus has frozen my computer. I am unable to do much work. I am running two scans. The automatic update feature of my security system has been disabled. I will keep struggling. Letters will be deleted, spacing will continue to be affected, words will be removed from these writings on a daily basis.
October 29, 2007 at 7:45 A.M. my cable signal was blocked, denying me access to the Internet. Whenever that happens, I will spend the rest of the day fighting to get back to my sites. I will run scans 24 hours per day. I will keep fighting to restore the update feature of my security system and to continue writing. Please see: "What is it like to be tortured?" and "Is New Jersey Chief Justice Deborah T. Poritz Unethical or Only Incompetent?"
October 29, 2007 at 9:47 A.M. telephone call(s) from 517-933-2080. Probably just a coincidence. Many computer troubles.
October 29, 2007 at 11:56 A.M. I am experiencing new alterations of my hotmail account. I am unable to access my MSN group, Critique. I will continue throughout the day to try to reach that site. New spacing difficulties may appear in this text at any time, along with new defacements of my writings.
October 30, 2007 at 8:05 P.M. my computer's clock is showing "7:01 P.M." for some reason.
"A New Jersey police lieutenant is an 'unabashed white supremacist' who tormented Hispanic underlings, spewed racial slurs and made a Klu Klux Klan mask out of a napkin, fellow officers contend."
Imagine an African-American's experience getting stopped on the road by that guy, a racist who "represents" the law. Now think of a person like that not-so-unusual New Jersey police officer, going to law school and scraping by, then getting appointed (without adequate experience or merit) to a Municipal Court judgeship because his or her uncle is in the rackets and has enough politicians in his pocket to make such a thing possible. Has anyone been to North Bergen, New Jersey? How about Weehawken? Secaucus?
How would it feel for a young minority attorney coming before such an incompetent thug in judicial robes? Do you think that such a person's judgment of your ethics -- or anyone's ethics -- means anything? I don't. As I write this, New Jersey officials are aware of the crimes you see being committed here, every day, and nothing happens or will happen -- as long as they get their payoffs. Right, Anne Milgram?
"Four detectives and a sergeant from the Hoboken Police Department" -- Bob Menendez turf, Hudson County! -- "have filed a federal civil rights suit against Lt. ANGELO ANDRIANI -- complete with photographs."
"There's a picture of Andriani posing in a cap emblazoned with a Confederate flag and a snap shot of him peering through crude eyeholes ripped in a restaurant napkin."
"Then there are e-mails the cops say were sent to a Louisiana councilwoman he [Andriani] tried to befriend on a Hurricane Katrina rescue mission."
" ... 'What's going on down there?' he [Andriani] said in a Sept. 9 e-mail that referred to the racially charged Jena, La., controversy."
Hey, maybe these police officers had something to do with my troubles in posting my own essay dealing with the Jena 6, which is still subjected to so much harassment. Racism, affiliation with criminals, corrupt politicians in New Jersey. What else is new? Badda-bing, badda-boom. (Why was Barack Obama's photo blocked at Critique?)
"... The suit filed [in federal court] in Newark, charges Andriani used the N-word frequently, described white women who dated black men as 'pigs,' and deemed whites superior to other races."
"It also said Andriani forced two detectives to do chores at his Verona home while on the clock -- allegations that could trigger a criminal investigation."
"The cops say Andriani often boasted of his close ties to the chief of police and threatened to 'bury' anyone who messed with him."
Gee, I know what threats from New Jersey's corrupt officials are like and also what alleged oafs like these racist cops are like. I strongly urge you to go to the feds with information concerning criminal behavior, racism, theft by legal authorities in New Jersey. Be very wary of New Jersey judges and tribunals. Do not expect or trust such New Jersey officials to be honest or ethical. A lot of them, especially those who judge others, wouldn't know the meaning of the word "ethics" or legality.
How do you live with your hypocrisy Stuart Rabner? How can you ignore these crimes Anne Milgram?
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
Sinbad's Excellent New York Adventure.
"Scheherazade noticed that dawn was approaching and stopped telling her story. When the next day arrived, however, she received the king's permission to continue her tale and said ..."
There was once a great seaman and explorer, an adventurer who travelled in many lands and loved many women. He was a conqueror of gold and women's hearts. The strangest story in the life of this charmer named Sinbad is the mysterious "Adventure of the Island of Tallest Buildings" where Sinbad washed ashore. It was after a close escape from the wives of the Caliph at Baghdad, who had grown fond of his tales of peril and bravery -- and fond of him -- that Sinbad's vessel was destroyed on the high seas. Sinbad swam to shore. Avoiding the land of death called "New Jersey," Sinbad collapsed on the sands of a strange kingdom. Sinbad emerged not far from something called "the Wall Street area."
It is true, oh great king, that this Sinbad was pleasing to the eyes of women. He was of middle height, dazzling smile, light brown eyes, clever and amusing, filled with curious learning and exotic wisdom. Knowing nothing about accounting and rarely mentioning the subject, a silence which is highly pleasing to women -- except, of course, for women accountants -- Sinbad could discourse knowingly on any number of subjects: philosophy and literature, the science of the cosmos, the far corners of the globe and the curious rituals of persons from Connecticut. Sinbad had tasted exotic fruit and made sandwiches with mayonaise while visiting this kingdom of Connecticut.
Sinbad felt a great thirst and hunger, but he had no gold. So he walked through the strange city, noticing the dismal attire of residents and suspecting that the Caliph of this blessedly rich kingdom must have died recently and been much loved, because all the men were dressed in dark colors -- black, gray, dark blue, wearing scarves around their necks in the colors of suffering and pain, red and gray. Few of the men smiled or sang songs. Sinbad wore a blue tunic with gold trim, a gold earring, a red and green sash at his waist was made of Chinese silk. Despite his misfortunes, his clothes were splendid. Persons took no notice of him and continually asked if he was "from the Village." They spoke the language of the Britons with a barbaric accent.
The women were exotic and beautiful in this kingdom, also obviously in mourning since they wore dark colors, always in a great hurry, offering each other papers. Apparently, it is the custom in this land to bring paper to one another as tribute. Great files containing many papers are exchanged as offerings during the work day.
The houses were the tallest Sinbad had ever seen and their beauty was difficult to describe. There was a stark, slate-gray coolness in some structures. Some buidings were prim and proper, others were riots of stone and air, dancing and groping, twisting towards the sky. This was a people that sought to touch the sky. Allah had favored them greatly, for they had indeed touched and been touched by the sky and stars. Did they know of their good fortune? Why were they so sad and angry?
Sinbad's hunger was becoming painful. So he was beginning to ponder the idea of absconding with food -- which seemed to be plentiful -- when he saw what he knew to be his salvation. Laughing loudly, Sinbad thanked Allah for his bounty. There were young men playing chess for coins and jewelry with affluent fools. There seemed to be plenty of these fools for everyone. The winds had blessed Sinbad, carrying him to this land of great wealth and enormous fools. Mohammed, the gold merchant in his native land, had always repeated his people's ancient saying: "Never give a sucker an even break."
Sinbad played chess with the young men. They were Africans (like the friends that he had known on his journeys and adventures). Many fat rich fools were relieved of their gold and jewels. There was much laughter among the men. Music played from a box where a genie must have lived who loved music from all the world. Vegetables, fruit, and bread were brought from a Chinese grocer and tea -- like the teas of India, but darker and stronger -- such as Sinbad had never tasted, renewed his strength. Finally, Sinbad was about to leave, when he noticed an old man who observed his chess playing. The old man's garments were rich and the silk about his neck was splendid.
"A final challenge?" asked the old man.
"Why not?"
The old man was no fool, countering Sinbad's Ruy Lopez opening with a strong Sicilian Defense, (in the dragon variation) which Sinbad had not seen before. The game was close and intense. Years of chess playing on ships, in the bazzars of Baghdad, in India -- where the game was invented (or so they say) -- in Africa, with the Bedouins, had sharpened Sinbad's skills. The killer instinct never failed him.
Sinbad saw an opening, as always, on the Queen side of the board. Gradually, patiently, Sinbad pursued a positional advantage that closed off the oxygen supply to the large pieces, with a loss of pawn cover and an effective reduction of the board. When defeat was certain for the old man, he smiled and bowed, like the men of Sinbad's ancient land. The old man offered a draw and Sinbad was charitable. Grateful for his good fortune on this day, Sinbad agreed.
"You have been kind to an old man."
"May Allah provide strangers willing to be kind to me in the winter of my years."
"I wish to reward you for your generosity and consideration."
Sinbad felt sympathy for the man. "There is no need."
"Please accept this small gift from me."
The old man took from his pocket a small and ancient box made of ivory, with carvings of animals and sailing ships. "Take this box please. Guard it well. You will have reason to treasure it and remember me. For I was you in another life."
Sinbad thought this statement bizarre. However, he did not wish to offend the old man, so Sinbad thanked his new friend, bowed like the lawyers who are thieves at court, accepting the box. That evening Sinbad slept under the stars in a park at the center of the kingdom, ate well, and thought of his likely adventures in this glorious new country. In the morning, Sinbad swam in a lake. He washed his clothes and let them dry in the sun, feeling its warmth on his flesh, attracting the stares of women, busy early in the day, also many smiles from them.
"Are you from the Village?" They asked. Where is this Village?
Sinbad remembered the box he had been given. Opening it to hear lovely music, such as he had never heard before, becoming drowsy and shivering as he was about to dress -- there was suddenly a man standing before Sinbad, singing in a deep baritone voice, surrounded by purple smoke ...
"O Paradis! ... This is the hour of your great fortune, oh my master!"
"A GENIE!"
"Yes, O naked one. Put on some clothes or you'll get arrested."
Sinbad dressed quickly. "What are you wearing genie?"
"It's a yamulke. I'm Jewish."
"There cannot be a Jewish genie."
"What are you -- prejudiced?"
The man had a large face, a bald pate, a beard down to his belly, wearing a splendid tan suit made by the "Brothers Brooks," with a red handkerchief in his suit pocket, a light powder blue shirt, gold cuff links, well-shined shoes, and a pinky ring with a large ruby as well as a yellow necktie. This could be a genie who is a trickster. The genie explained that everybody thought he looked like "Rob Reiner with a long beard."
"No, not at all. I'm not prejudiced ... some of my best friends are Jews ... " Sinbad mumbled.
"Listen, genie wasn't my first choice of a profession. I was a personal injury lawyer for a while. I made good money in real estate. My mistake was I got into the movie business. It's easy for you to judge."
"I'm sorry. I meant no offense."
"None taken. The name is Murray Schwartz. We've got to get cracking here, kid, 'cause I gotta be home before sundown. You get three wishes -- and if you act now, you get a toaster oven free of charge."
In all of his adventures Sinbad had never found a genie. This was everyone's greatest hope. Sinbad could not believe his good fortune. It all became very clear to him now. This country was filled with genies who granted people's wishes, which explains why everyone is rich. Many of these genies appear on television shows with women carrying suitcases. So why aren't people happier? This land -- America is it? -- is the real treasure chest at the end of the rainbow, surrounded by dragons and challenges.
"Three wishes?"
"Yes."
"What's the catch? Where's the fine print?"
"Now you're hurting my feelings. Just for that you lose the toaster oven."
"O.K., I want great wealth and a splendid place to live."
The sky became black as midnight, lightning shattered the clouds, swirling winds altered everything, green smoke filled his eyes. Sinbad feared that he would never see again. Then everything began to clear away as the day became beautiful again. He was standing at a great height, with a magnificent view all around him of the city. Sinbad could see the very park where he had slept the night before. Sinbad now owned a penthouse at the Trump Tower, with a view of this huge Park from one side and the Time Warner building on the other, plus Columbus Circle with a fountain and everything. The people walking below looked tiny. Sinbad was a great Caliph all of a sudden. Who knew?
Sinbad looked at himself in a mirror with gold trim and saw (but could not believe) that he wore a beautiful dark blue suit, light and cool, comfortable and elegant, inside the jacket pocket it said: "Emporio Armani -- Fairy Tale Division." Sinbad's shirt was white and his necktie was a crimson color, made of the world's best Chinese silk. Not the cheap synthetic stuff, mind you. Old silk, from China -- the real China, not San Francisco or down by the seaport. Tiny hand-painted letters in gold were found on his elegant tie: "YSL." (Who is "Yves Saint Laurent?")
The room where he found himself was large, perfectly cool. There must be a magical temperature control. He noticed the low plush leather furniture in black, the crystal coffee table, a large canvas by Mondrian, a Picasso over the restored Renaissance fire place, a large flat screen "plasma" television set, and a control panel that might have allowed a rocket to reach the moon. Speakers were placed at the far corners of the room. There were fresh flowers on what appeared to be a genuine Ming vase. There was a wonderful aroma that came from him and could only be Antonio cologne. A device near the lamp had buttons identifying "butler, chauffeur, cook."
Sinbad decided to explore this great city, knowing that (if he needed his genie, all that was necessary was to open the box in his pocket). Sinbad had two more wishes. He would use them sparingly and wisely.
Strolling downtown in his splendid wardrobe, Sinbad noticed the difference in the reactions to him. There were suddenly occasional nods from the very serious men -- who never laughed or sang -- and sometimes women still smiled, but with a coolness different from the way they had smiled before. His clothing seemed to make him more frightening to people. The same people who had not seen him before, looking though him somehow, now seemed to acknowledge him and make him a party to this exclusiveness of others. Sinbad had become a force to reckon with or a power, but nothing important about him had changed.
Sinbad came to the very center of the kingdom, recognizing several friends from the night before. The young Africans were polite, but much more wary and guarded. His rich attire made him a source of concern for some reason. There was an artificiality about their interactions. Sinbad did not need money. Chess playing for gold and delight in relieving fools of their wealth was spoiled. This was all very disturbing.
Sinbad continued his journey and came upon Union Square, at 14th Street. There was a farmer's market, with ripe fruit and bread just out of the oven. He had coins to purchase what he needed. There would be no need to run off with something or devise a clever ploy to trick the merchant out of food. People were polite to him, if somewhat more distant than before. Something about his new splendor distanced persons from him as though he suffered from a contagious disease.
It is so strange that in a country where everyone believes that he or she wishes to be rich, an encounter with an expensively dressed person or visible wealth is so ambiguous or paradoxical. There is both attraction and revulsion for money in this curious country. Each emotion is equally intense.
Sinbad reached a bookstore called "Strand Books." There were many treasures displayed, including precious and valuable books, even a nineteenth century edition of the Arabian Nights. A statue of a woman with painted lips sat in the window reading a book, while wearing a "Strand Books" t-shirt and red converse sneakers as well as fishnet stockings. She had a blond wig and green eyes. Her hat said: "Sherry." And there was an ancient typing machine at her side with a single page in it. Sinbad could only read the first line typed on this page -- "Scheherezade noticed that dawn was ..."
Sinbad bought two "Strand Books" t-shirts. This way he'd have souvenirs for his friends when he got back to Baghdad. Then Sinbad saw her. A woman was working in the store blessed with a body rounded and curved with all the grace of Allah. She had green eyes and soft, light brown hair cut short. She wore a big cloth cap, old faded denims, black Converse sneakers, a black t-shirt that said "Strand Books" with some Chinese writing on it. She had a pencil behind her ear and a big button that said: "Hillary Clinton For President -- 2008." Another button said: "No More Nukes!"
Sinbad decided that -- whatever "Nukes" were -- he wanted no more of them. Sinbad entered the store, thinking of what to say to this princess in disguise, picking up a button like hers, which said: "Obama '08 -- For President."
"Greetings, oh fair one."
"What?"
She had a lovely voice, like a sailor on weekend leave who'd been smoking and drinking for hours. Clearly, she was most demure. Perhaps she had been raised in the shelter of a palace by grand Caliph.
"Will you be so kind as to show me the first editions? I have much gold to spend this day."
"Yeah, right. You know, that's exactly what wrong with this city."
"What do you mean?"
"There's too many assholes -- like you -- with a lot of money and no brains."
She tilted her head in his direction raising an eyebrow, inspecting him, as if he were something that she'd stepped on that morning on the way to work. She seemed both angry and amused. Women often seem angry. This is also true of pirates and evil genies. But Sinbad knew, somehow, that she wasn't really angry because Sinbad admired her beauty. She seemed mostly entertained by him. Many women are entertained by men, often by men who are unaware that they are very entertaining.
There is, almost always, an invitation (usually hidden, indirect) on the part of women one meets to demonstrate that one is not a fool. Women want to like you, to be interested in what you say, to laugh at your jokes. Most men don't care about the reactions of others. Women are more often open to the world, other-directed; men are more often closed to the world of others, inner-directed. A woman sets out each day to be astonished and fascinated by life. Men set out to be left alone. Women's inner lives are about feeling; men's inner lives are about autonomy. Yes, these categories sometimes overlap and there are persons who alternate these orientations.
Think of every woman you meet as a riddle that hopes to be figured out by you. Her selfhood or identity is a great treasure at the center of a labyrinth. It is not enough to reach it, for you must discover a way out of the labyrinth with that treasure, so that you can share it with her. Few women realize all the riches hidden away in the secret compartments of their psyches, sometimes from childhood, all of the things denied or discouraged, laughed at in themselves, sometimes beaten out of them -- all of these things are never lost. Women hide these precious sides of their nature and treasured memories in a secret tower inside themselves, surrounded by obstacles, and the man who reaches the secret tower and finds the treasure, is always the man (or person) that a woman will love.
"Well, if a person has money, does this not suggest that he or she also has brains?"
She stared at him, placed a hand at her hips, sighed and looked towards the ceiling, then back at Sinbad.
"Did something fall on your head today? Like a brick or something?"
"I lead a charmed life. Nothing ever falls on me."
"Right. I'll get in trouble for talking to you all day. So let me just get you to the rare books department."
"What is your name? I see that your jacket says 'Sears.' So your name must be Sears -- what a pretty name."
"Are you for real?"
"My new friend must be a blushing flower," Sinbad thought, smiling as his great charm began to work its magic.
"Well, that is a difficult question." Sinbad pondered this conundrum. "A great wise man named Nathan Salmon says that I am not real, in a way, but that I am also very real in another way. I was not a philosophy major."
"I wonder how real I am sometimes. Incidentally, I was a philosophy major, NYU, which explains all of my success in life ... and my seven roomates in Chelsea."
Her laughter was like a low rumble, thunder in the distance. They strolled over to the rare books department where Sinbad made several expensive purchases -- Sherry, that was her name, wasn't impressed -- but the owners of this great establishment were especially friendly towards Sinbad after he spent lots of money. In fact, they invited Sinbad to return any time, giving him a free button that said: "18 Miles of Books."
During their entire conversation, Sherry seemed to insult him and regard him as a fool, but in a nice way. Sinbad thought it would be difficult to ask her to have lunch with him. So he asked to use the bathroom to find some privacy. After his many purchases, everybody in this city was amazingly nice to him, but only in a performing kind of a way that seemed weird. The naturalness of people's reactions disappeared because of his visible wealth. It must like this for famous people. Their fame gets in the way of encounters with others. Fame or celebrity is in the room with them when they want to be alone with another person's words and thoughts, also feelings. Every relationship for a famous person is a triangle. Is it the same for the very rich?
Sinbad was alone in the bathroom. He removed the box from his pocket and opened it. This time, the music was "Elvis Presley" singing something about "blue suede shoes." Murray appeared in a Flowered shirt, shorts, a straw hat and sandals, while holding a large cup that said: "Starbucks."
"I was on vacation. This better be important."
"Sorry. I have met a princess in disguise. I don't know what to say to get her so she'll go out with me for lunch."
"You're kidding, right?"
"No."
"You want to waste a wish on getting this woman to go out with you?"
"There is nothing more important. By the way, all of this wealth is not helping. In fact, it's making everything more difficult for some reason. She's not ... impressed."
"Tell her you like what she's wearing."
"Perhaps I should say I 'hate nukes.'"
"In this place, it couldn't hurt. I'm a Republican, myself. Are you sure this is your second wish?"
"Yes, absolutely."
"O.K., this is what you do. It never fails. You go out there and say: 'You know, I have a problem because I'm supposed to have lunch with Steven Spielberg and I don't want to go by myself, because last time, Steve and Tom (Tom Hanks, he's an actor or something), they each showed up with a beautiful woman. I felt kind of insecure all by myself. So, uh, I thought, next time I see these guys -- we like to go bowling on Tuesdays -- I'd show up with a devastatingly beautiful blonde (like you, as a matter of fact). Just to show off a little. Whatta ya say?"
"That's the most idiotic thing that I have ever heard."
"It works."
Somebody came into the bathroom, a thin, bespectacled visitor from NYU. After the guy left, Murray resumed his disquisition.
"Look, I'm a genie. I know about getting women."
Murray seemed so confident. Sinbad agreed and made this his second wish. Sinbad exited the bathroom and approached the princess. She was stacking books as she said over her shoulder.
"You want to grab a sandwich or something?"
"Sure." Sinbad's charm had succeeded once more.
They strolled further downtown and headed for "The Dragon Lady," a vegeterian and "highly spiritual lunchenette" -- they called it a "lunchenette" because it was mostly for women -- a lunchenette that was painted black on the outside. Inside, antique tables made of black marble had white and red checkered table cloths on them, a slim vase with a single blood-colored rose was at the center of each table.
Posters of Virginia Woolf, Silvia Plath, Bette Davis and Barbara Stanwick shared wall space with a huge poster for the t.v. show "Ellen," along with an advertisement for a dance at something called "Meow Mix." Sinbad was the only male in the place. All of the waitpersons -- "attendant wait staff!" -- wore black t-shirts and pants. They were waited on by a Sicilian woman named "Diana" with an elongated face, jet black hair, painted and highly arched eyebrows that made her look like a combination of Morticia on The Adams Family and Natasha on the old Bullwinkle cartoons. Diana's nails were as red as the flowers. Diana's lips were also painted fire-hydrant read -- blood seemed to drip from them, perhaps it does! -- her teeth were sharp and pointed.
"What'll you have?"
The look of undiluted hatred in Diana's dark eyes, combined with the venom in her voice to make Sinbad's appetite disappear.
"I'll have the yogurt pineapple surprise and a diet Coke."
Sherry asked for "... a veggie burger, Perrier, and a single, perfect apple."
"What a lovely restaurant." Sinbad wondered if the place might be available for funerals. They spoke easily during lunch, laughed a great deal, agreeing to call each other in the future, except that Sinbad noticed the stares from Diana (who owned the place) and from several of Diana's employees, who seemed just as malignant and hostile to Sinbad's newfound wealth -- or maybe it was his obvious and astonishing virility that offended them -- as their evil mistress was (and always would be) hostile, poisoned by a kind of hatred.
Sinbad walked Sherry back to the bookstore after lunch, realizing that Sherry "really liked him," also that he wanted to see her again. Sinbad's wealth was an obstacle. The hostility of her so-called "friends" would make happiness a problem for Sherry -- whoever entered her life, man or woman. In fact, it was really the thought of Sherry's happines that seemed to disturb Diana, for some reason, along with the possibility of anyone's happiness or laughter.
Joy not only offends evil persons, but it is literally unbearable to them. Hence, the hostility on the part of persons consumed by the cancer of hatred to all forms of love. Hatred of laughter, delight in causing pain were things that Sinbad recognized and opposed, but that also baffled him, defeating all efforts at understanding. Misery spreads like a sexually transmitted disease -- insisting on the greater misery of others. A poet named Milton described this as Lucifer's greatest suffering, the loss of love for the sake of pride.
A great wizard said that in some unfortunate persons, like this Diana, "the taste for the other, that is the very capacity for enjoying Goodness -- in the form of the welfare and happiness of another person -- is quenched." Evil persons wish to destroy any possibility of genuine meeting or connection for others as well as themselves. Persons hostile to love always live in hell. Sinbad feared that hell hovered near Sherry's life and, eventually, it would seek to devour her. Why such misfortune should befall Sherry, Sinbad could not say.
That night Sinbad slept badly. Tossing and turning. The expensive, plush, massive bed and silk sheets felt like sackcloth. He was far less comfortable than in the park the night before. The stars he had seen the previous night surpassed the beauty of this painted ceiling. Dante -- who must have been a Muslim -- had been right to say that no one could sleep in a more splendid palace than the man who slept under the stars. In the morning, Sinbad made up his mind and called upon his genie one last time.
"Do you know how early this is?" Murray wore flame-retardent pijamas with pictures of bugs bunny on them, also big slippers that were furry, like a bear's paws. A night cap rested on his head at a jaunty angle.
"Sorry. Look, I want to go back to the way I was. You can keep the apartment, the clothes, money. I just want to find Sherry. Move to the Village. Maybe do a little painting or get on another ship and sail away."
"You're not thinking. Don't you know that, in this city, 'money is the meaning of life'! Adjust! What's wrong with you?"
"It's not for me, no offense."
"There's a lot of women in this town. Sherry's nothing special. I can get you women that you would not believe. All it takes is a little cash."
"I don't think so. It's just not right for me. I like my freedom. All this money is like a ball and chain. I feel weighed down by it. Oppressed. I'll be happy finding enough to live on and that sense of possibility that fills your soul when all the ropes are cut and you sail away in your life."
"Here. This is my analyst's card. He's got an office on Park Avenue. He makes you fill out this long questionaire, then he's into primal screaming and aroma therapy. You'll like him."
"Look, Murray, I'm not criticizing your genie skills. But the 'Path of the Genie' is not really for me. I just want Sherry and a few other special people in my life, a chance to create some beauty, to think new thoughts, and experience life. You know what I mean?"
"You need to get in touch with your inner adult."
"Maybe you're right. Is it O.K. if I just give everything to charity?"
"I'll take it off your hands. Prices are going through the roof right now. I'm an investment wiz. Listen, I can do a little love potion for you as a going away present. This 'Sherry' will be crazy about you."
"No, it's no good that way. That's like money. It kills all genuineness, emotional truth. What I want is the ultimate magic, not the kind you can buy or get with regular, everyday tricks. You know?"
"I see what you mean. Lots of luck. Here, take this rabbit's foot. It couldn't hurt."
Sinbad went back to Strand Books. Sherry no longer worked there. He tried everywhere, even "The Dragon Lady" -- which was closed -- since cops raided the place after drug selling and illegal gambling were taking place in that establishment. Diana was looking at "life without parole." This was probably an improvement for Diana -- definitely what she deserves. No one knew where Sherry was to be found. Her place was empty. In fact, Sherry seemed to be wrapping up all the loose ends to put a final ... "punctuation mark" on this adventure.
A merchant vessel was sailing for France. Sinbad dreamed of visiting Paris, which he hoped would help ease his pain. Sinbad signed up as a seaman. Arriving to find his quarters, Sinbad discovered the skipper on this vessel playing chess with the first mate. The first mate was a husky brunette named "Victoria" and the skipper had light brown hair, green eyes, a cloth cap and was wearing a lovely smile when she saw her Sinbad again ...
This is all that we know of Sinbad's excellent New York adventure, and Allah is omniscient. So glory be to Him, whom the tides of time cannot waste away, nor does chance or change affect His sway. And peace be upon the Lord's Chosen One among His creatures, our Lord Mohammed, the Prince of humankind, through whom we send our prayers to our Lord for a good and divine end.
There was once a great seaman and explorer, an adventurer who travelled in many lands and loved many women. He was a conqueror of gold and women's hearts. The strangest story in the life of this charmer named Sinbad is the mysterious "Adventure of the Island of Tallest Buildings" where Sinbad washed ashore. It was after a close escape from the wives of the Caliph at Baghdad, who had grown fond of his tales of peril and bravery -- and fond of him -- that Sinbad's vessel was destroyed on the high seas. Sinbad swam to shore. Avoiding the land of death called "New Jersey," Sinbad collapsed on the sands of a strange kingdom. Sinbad emerged not far from something called "the Wall Street area."
It is true, oh great king, that this Sinbad was pleasing to the eyes of women. He was of middle height, dazzling smile, light brown eyes, clever and amusing, filled with curious learning and exotic wisdom. Knowing nothing about accounting and rarely mentioning the subject, a silence which is highly pleasing to women -- except, of course, for women accountants -- Sinbad could discourse knowingly on any number of subjects: philosophy and literature, the science of the cosmos, the far corners of the globe and the curious rituals of persons from Connecticut. Sinbad had tasted exotic fruit and made sandwiches with mayonaise while visiting this kingdom of Connecticut.
Sinbad felt a great thirst and hunger, but he had no gold. So he walked through the strange city, noticing the dismal attire of residents and suspecting that the Caliph of this blessedly rich kingdom must have died recently and been much loved, because all the men were dressed in dark colors -- black, gray, dark blue, wearing scarves around their necks in the colors of suffering and pain, red and gray. Few of the men smiled or sang songs. Sinbad wore a blue tunic with gold trim, a gold earring, a red and green sash at his waist was made of Chinese silk. Despite his misfortunes, his clothes were splendid. Persons took no notice of him and continually asked if he was "from the Village." They spoke the language of the Britons with a barbaric accent.
The women were exotic and beautiful in this kingdom, also obviously in mourning since they wore dark colors, always in a great hurry, offering each other papers. Apparently, it is the custom in this land to bring paper to one another as tribute. Great files containing many papers are exchanged as offerings during the work day.
The houses were the tallest Sinbad had ever seen and their beauty was difficult to describe. There was a stark, slate-gray coolness in some structures. Some buidings were prim and proper, others were riots of stone and air, dancing and groping, twisting towards the sky. This was a people that sought to touch the sky. Allah had favored them greatly, for they had indeed touched and been touched by the sky and stars. Did they know of their good fortune? Why were they so sad and angry?
Sinbad's hunger was becoming painful. So he was beginning to ponder the idea of absconding with food -- which seemed to be plentiful -- when he saw what he knew to be his salvation. Laughing loudly, Sinbad thanked Allah for his bounty. There were young men playing chess for coins and jewelry with affluent fools. There seemed to be plenty of these fools for everyone. The winds had blessed Sinbad, carrying him to this land of great wealth and enormous fools. Mohammed, the gold merchant in his native land, had always repeated his people's ancient saying: "Never give a sucker an even break."
Sinbad played chess with the young men. They were Africans (like the friends that he had known on his journeys and adventures). Many fat rich fools were relieved of their gold and jewels. There was much laughter among the men. Music played from a box where a genie must have lived who loved music from all the world. Vegetables, fruit, and bread were brought from a Chinese grocer and tea -- like the teas of India, but darker and stronger -- such as Sinbad had never tasted, renewed his strength. Finally, Sinbad was about to leave, when he noticed an old man who observed his chess playing. The old man's garments were rich and the silk about his neck was splendid.
"A final challenge?" asked the old man.
"Why not?"
The old man was no fool, countering Sinbad's Ruy Lopez opening with a strong Sicilian Defense, (in the dragon variation) which Sinbad had not seen before. The game was close and intense. Years of chess playing on ships, in the bazzars of Baghdad, in India -- where the game was invented (or so they say) -- in Africa, with the Bedouins, had sharpened Sinbad's skills. The killer instinct never failed him.
Sinbad saw an opening, as always, on the Queen side of the board. Gradually, patiently, Sinbad pursued a positional advantage that closed off the oxygen supply to the large pieces, with a loss of pawn cover and an effective reduction of the board. When defeat was certain for the old man, he smiled and bowed, like the men of Sinbad's ancient land. The old man offered a draw and Sinbad was charitable. Grateful for his good fortune on this day, Sinbad agreed.
"You have been kind to an old man."
"May Allah provide strangers willing to be kind to me in the winter of my years."
"I wish to reward you for your generosity and consideration."
Sinbad felt sympathy for the man. "There is no need."
"Please accept this small gift from me."
The old man took from his pocket a small and ancient box made of ivory, with carvings of animals and sailing ships. "Take this box please. Guard it well. You will have reason to treasure it and remember me. For I was you in another life."
Sinbad thought this statement bizarre. However, he did not wish to offend the old man, so Sinbad thanked his new friend, bowed like the lawyers who are thieves at court, accepting the box. That evening Sinbad slept under the stars in a park at the center of the kingdom, ate well, and thought of his likely adventures in this glorious new country. In the morning, Sinbad swam in a lake. He washed his clothes and let them dry in the sun, feeling its warmth on his flesh, attracting the stares of women, busy early in the day, also many smiles from them.
"Are you from the Village?" They asked. Where is this Village?
Sinbad remembered the box he had been given. Opening it to hear lovely music, such as he had never heard before, becoming drowsy and shivering as he was about to dress -- there was suddenly a man standing before Sinbad, singing in a deep baritone voice, surrounded by purple smoke ...
"O Paradis! ... This is the hour of your great fortune, oh my master!"
"A GENIE!"
"Yes, O naked one. Put on some clothes or you'll get arrested."
Sinbad dressed quickly. "What are you wearing genie?"
"It's a yamulke. I'm Jewish."
"There cannot be a Jewish genie."
"What are you -- prejudiced?"
The man had a large face, a bald pate, a beard down to his belly, wearing a splendid tan suit made by the "Brothers Brooks," with a red handkerchief in his suit pocket, a light powder blue shirt, gold cuff links, well-shined shoes, and a pinky ring with a large ruby as well as a yellow necktie. This could be a genie who is a trickster. The genie explained that everybody thought he looked like "Rob Reiner with a long beard."
"No, not at all. I'm not prejudiced ... some of my best friends are Jews ... " Sinbad mumbled.
"Listen, genie wasn't my first choice of a profession. I was a personal injury lawyer for a while. I made good money in real estate. My mistake was I got into the movie business. It's easy for you to judge."
"I'm sorry. I meant no offense."
"None taken. The name is Murray Schwartz. We've got to get cracking here, kid, 'cause I gotta be home before sundown. You get three wishes -- and if you act now, you get a toaster oven free of charge."
In all of his adventures Sinbad had never found a genie. This was everyone's greatest hope. Sinbad could not believe his good fortune. It all became very clear to him now. This country was filled with genies who granted people's wishes, which explains why everyone is rich. Many of these genies appear on television shows with women carrying suitcases. So why aren't people happier? This land -- America is it? -- is the real treasure chest at the end of the rainbow, surrounded by dragons and challenges.
"Three wishes?"
"Yes."
"What's the catch? Where's the fine print?"
"Now you're hurting my feelings. Just for that you lose the toaster oven."
"O.K., I want great wealth and a splendid place to live."
The sky became black as midnight, lightning shattered the clouds, swirling winds altered everything, green smoke filled his eyes. Sinbad feared that he would never see again. Then everything began to clear away as the day became beautiful again. He was standing at a great height, with a magnificent view all around him of the city. Sinbad could see the very park where he had slept the night before. Sinbad now owned a penthouse at the Trump Tower, with a view of this huge Park from one side and the Time Warner building on the other, plus Columbus Circle with a fountain and everything. The people walking below looked tiny. Sinbad was a great Caliph all of a sudden. Who knew?
Sinbad looked at himself in a mirror with gold trim and saw (but could not believe) that he wore a beautiful dark blue suit, light and cool, comfortable and elegant, inside the jacket pocket it said: "Emporio Armani -- Fairy Tale Division." Sinbad's shirt was white and his necktie was a crimson color, made of the world's best Chinese silk. Not the cheap synthetic stuff, mind you. Old silk, from China -- the real China, not San Francisco or down by the seaport. Tiny hand-painted letters in gold were found on his elegant tie: "YSL." (Who is "Yves Saint Laurent?")
The room where he found himself was large, perfectly cool. There must be a magical temperature control. He noticed the low plush leather furniture in black, the crystal coffee table, a large canvas by Mondrian, a Picasso over the restored Renaissance fire place, a large flat screen "plasma" television set, and a control panel that might have allowed a rocket to reach the moon. Speakers were placed at the far corners of the room. There were fresh flowers on what appeared to be a genuine Ming vase. There was a wonderful aroma that came from him and could only be Antonio cologne. A device near the lamp had buttons identifying "butler, chauffeur, cook."
Sinbad decided to explore this great city, knowing that (if he needed his genie, all that was necessary was to open the box in his pocket). Sinbad had two more wishes. He would use them sparingly and wisely.
Strolling downtown in his splendid wardrobe, Sinbad noticed the difference in the reactions to him. There were suddenly occasional nods from the very serious men -- who never laughed or sang -- and sometimes women still smiled, but with a coolness different from the way they had smiled before. His clothing seemed to make him more frightening to people. The same people who had not seen him before, looking though him somehow, now seemed to acknowledge him and make him a party to this exclusiveness of others. Sinbad had become a force to reckon with or a power, but nothing important about him had changed.
Sinbad came to the very center of the kingdom, recognizing several friends from the night before. The young Africans were polite, but much more wary and guarded. His rich attire made him a source of concern for some reason. There was an artificiality about their interactions. Sinbad did not need money. Chess playing for gold and delight in relieving fools of their wealth was spoiled. This was all very disturbing.
Sinbad continued his journey and came upon Union Square, at 14th Street. There was a farmer's market, with ripe fruit and bread just out of the oven. He had coins to purchase what he needed. There would be no need to run off with something or devise a clever ploy to trick the merchant out of food. People were polite to him, if somewhat more distant than before. Something about his new splendor distanced persons from him as though he suffered from a contagious disease.
It is so strange that in a country where everyone believes that he or she wishes to be rich, an encounter with an expensively dressed person or visible wealth is so ambiguous or paradoxical. There is both attraction and revulsion for money in this curious country. Each emotion is equally intense.
Sinbad reached a bookstore called "Strand Books." There were many treasures displayed, including precious and valuable books, even a nineteenth century edition of the Arabian Nights. A statue of a woman with painted lips sat in the window reading a book, while wearing a "Strand Books" t-shirt and red converse sneakers as well as fishnet stockings. She had a blond wig and green eyes. Her hat said: "Sherry." And there was an ancient typing machine at her side with a single page in it. Sinbad could only read the first line typed on this page -- "Scheherezade noticed that dawn was ..."
Sinbad bought two "Strand Books" t-shirts. This way he'd have souvenirs for his friends when he got back to Baghdad. Then Sinbad saw her. A woman was working in the store blessed with a body rounded and curved with all the grace of Allah. She had green eyes and soft, light brown hair cut short. She wore a big cloth cap, old faded denims, black Converse sneakers, a black t-shirt that said "Strand Books" with some Chinese writing on it. She had a pencil behind her ear and a big button that said: "Hillary Clinton For President -- 2008." Another button said: "No More Nukes!"
Sinbad decided that -- whatever "Nukes" were -- he wanted no more of them. Sinbad entered the store, thinking of what to say to this princess in disguise, picking up a button like hers, which said: "Obama '08 -- For President."
"Greetings, oh fair one."
"What?"
She had a lovely voice, like a sailor on weekend leave who'd been smoking and drinking for hours. Clearly, she was most demure. Perhaps she had been raised in the shelter of a palace by grand Caliph.
"Will you be so kind as to show me the first editions? I have much gold to spend this day."
"Yeah, right. You know, that's exactly what wrong with this city."
"What do you mean?"
"There's too many assholes -- like you -- with a lot of money and no brains."
She tilted her head in his direction raising an eyebrow, inspecting him, as if he were something that she'd stepped on that morning on the way to work. She seemed both angry and amused. Women often seem angry. This is also true of pirates and evil genies. But Sinbad knew, somehow, that she wasn't really angry because Sinbad admired her beauty. She seemed mostly entertained by him. Many women are entertained by men, often by men who are unaware that they are very entertaining.
There is, almost always, an invitation (usually hidden, indirect) on the part of women one meets to demonstrate that one is not a fool. Women want to like you, to be interested in what you say, to laugh at your jokes. Most men don't care about the reactions of others. Women are more often open to the world, other-directed; men are more often closed to the world of others, inner-directed. A woman sets out each day to be astonished and fascinated by life. Men set out to be left alone. Women's inner lives are about feeling; men's inner lives are about autonomy. Yes, these categories sometimes overlap and there are persons who alternate these orientations.
Think of every woman you meet as a riddle that hopes to be figured out by you. Her selfhood or identity is a great treasure at the center of a labyrinth. It is not enough to reach it, for you must discover a way out of the labyrinth with that treasure, so that you can share it with her. Few women realize all the riches hidden away in the secret compartments of their psyches, sometimes from childhood, all of the things denied or discouraged, laughed at in themselves, sometimes beaten out of them -- all of these things are never lost. Women hide these precious sides of their nature and treasured memories in a secret tower inside themselves, surrounded by obstacles, and the man who reaches the secret tower and finds the treasure, is always the man (or person) that a woman will love.
"Well, if a person has money, does this not suggest that he or she also has brains?"
She stared at him, placed a hand at her hips, sighed and looked towards the ceiling, then back at Sinbad.
"Did something fall on your head today? Like a brick or something?"
"I lead a charmed life. Nothing ever falls on me."
"Right. I'll get in trouble for talking to you all day. So let me just get you to the rare books department."
"What is your name? I see that your jacket says 'Sears.' So your name must be Sears -- what a pretty name."
"Are you for real?"
"My new friend must be a blushing flower," Sinbad thought, smiling as his great charm began to work its magic.
"Well, that is a difficult question." Sinbad pondered this conundrum. "A great wise man named Nathan Salmon says that I am not real, in a way, but that I am also very real in another way. I was not a philosophy major."
"I wonder how real I am sometimes. Incidentally, I was a philosophy major, NYU, which explains all of my success in life ... and my seven roomates in Chelsea."
Her laughter was like a low rumble, thunder in the distance. They strolled over to the rare books department where Sinbad made several expensive purchases -- Sherry, that was her name, wasn't impressed -- but the owners of this great establishment were especially friendly towards Sinbad after he spent lots of money. In fact, they invited Sinbad to return any time, giving him a free button that said: "18 Miles of Books."
During their entire conversation, Sherry seemed to insult him and regard him as a fool, but in a nice way. Sinbad thought it would be difficult to ask her to have lunch with him. So he asked to use the bathroom to find some privacy. After his many purchases, everybody in this city was amazingly nice to him, but only in a performing kind of a way that seemed weird. The naturalness of people's reactions disappeared because of his visible wealth. It must like this for famous people. Their fame gets in the way of encounters with others. Fame or celebrity is in the room with them when they want to be alone with another person's words and thoughts, also feelings. Every relationship for a famous person is a triangle. Is it the same for the very rich?
Sinbad was alone in the bathroom. He removed the box from his pocket and opened it. This time, the music was "Elvis Presley" singing something about "blue suede shoes." Murray appeared in a Flowered shirt, shorts, a straw hat and sandals, while holding a large cup that said: "Starbucks."
"I was on vacation. This better be important."
"Sorry. I have met a princess in disguise. I don't know what to say to get her so she'll go out with me for lunch."
"You're kidding, right?"
"No."
"You want to waste a wish on getting this woman to go out with you?"
"There is nothing more important. By the way, all of this wealth is not helping. In fact, it's making everything more difficult for some reason. She's not ... impressed."
"Tell her you like what she's wearing."
"Perhaps I should say I 'hate nukes.'"
"In this place, it couldn't hurt. I'm a Republican, myself. Are you sure this is your second wish?"
"Yes, absolutely."
"O.K., this is what you do. It never fails. You go out there and say: 'You know, I have a problem because I'm supposed to have lunch with Steven Spielberg and I don't want to go by myself, because last time, Steve and Tom (Tom Hanks, he's an actor or something), they each showed up with a beautiful woman. I felt kind of insecure all by myself. So, uh, I thought, next time I see these guys -- we like to go bowling on Tuesdays -- I'd show up with a devastatingly beautiful blonde (like you, as a matter of fact). Just to show off a little. Whatta ya say?"
"That's the most idiotic thing that I have ever heard."
"It works."
Somebody came into the bathroom, a thin, bespectacled visitor from NYU. After the guy left, Murray resumed his disquisition.
"Look, I'm a genie. I know about getting women."
Murray seemed so confident. Sinbad agreed and made this his second wish. Sinbad exited the bathroom and approached the princess. She was stacking books as she said over her shoulder.
"You want to grab a sandwich or something?"
"Sure." Sinbad's charm had succeeded once more.
They strolled further downtown and headed for "The Dragon Lady," a vegeterian and "highly spiritual lunchenette" -- they called it a "lunchenette" because it was mostly for women -- a lunchenette that was painted black on the outside. Inside, antique tables made of black marble had white and red checkered table cloths on them, a slim vase with a single blood-colored rose was at the center of each table.
Posters of Virginia Woolf, Silvia Plath, Bette Davis and Barbara Stanwick shared wall space with a huge poster for the t.v. show "Ellen," along with an advertisement for a dance at something called "Meow Mix." Sinbad was the only male in the place. All of the waitpersons -- "attendant wait staff!" -- wore black t-shirts and pants. They were waited on by a Sicilian woman named "Diana" with an elongated face, jet black hair, painted and highly arched eyebrows that made her look like a combination of Morticia on The Adams Family and Natasha on the old Bullwinkle cartoons. Diana's nails were as red as the flowers. Diana's lips were also painted fire-hydrant read -- blood seemed to drip from them, perhaps it does! -- her teeth were sharp and pointed.
"What'll you have?"
The look of undiluted hatred in Diana's dark eyes, combined with the venom in her voice to make Sinbad's appetite disappear.
"I'll have the yogurt pineapple surprise and a diet Coke."
Sherry asked for "... a veggie burger, Perrier, and a single, perfect apple."
"What a lovely restaurant." Sinbad wondered if the place might be available for funerals. They spoke easily during lunch, laughed a great deal, agreeing to call each other in the future, except that Sinbad noticed the stares from Diana (who owned the place) and from several of Diana's employees, who seemed just as malignant and hostile to Sinbad's newfound wealth -- or maybe it was his obvious and astonishing virility that offended them -- as their evil mistress was (and always would be) hostile, poisoned by a kind of hatred.
Sinbad walked Sherry back to the bookstore after lunch, realizing that Sherry "really liked him," also that he wanted to see her again. Sinbad's wealth was an obstacle. The hostility of her so-called "friends" would make happiness a problem for Sherry -- whoever entered her life, man or woman. In fact, it was really the thought of Sherry's happines that seemed to disturb Diana, for some reason, along with the possibility of anyone's happiness or laughter.
Joy not only offends evil persons, but it is literally unbearable to them. Hence, the hostility on the part of persons consumed by the cancer of hatred to all forms of love. Hatred of laughter, delight in causing pain were things that Sinbad recognized and opposed, but that also baffled him, defeating all efforts at understanding. Misery spreads like a sexually transmitted disease -- insisting on the greater misery of others. A poet named Milton described this as Lucifer's greatest suffering, the loss of love for the sake of pride.
A great wizard said that in some unfortunate persons, like this Diana, "the taste for the other, that is the very capacity for enjoying Goodness -- in the form of the welfare and happiness of another person -- is quenched." Evil persons wish to destroy any possibility of genuine meeting or connection for others as well as themselves. Persons hostile to love always live in hell. Sinbad feared that hell hovered near Sherry's life and, eventually, it would seek to devour her. Why such misfortune should befall Sherry, Sinbad could not say.
That night Sinbad slept badly. Tossing and turning. The expensive, plush, massive bed and silk sheets felt like sackcloth. He was far less comfortable than in the park the night before. The stars he had seen the previous night surpassed the beauty of this painted ceiling. Dante -- who must have been a Muslim -- had been right to say that no one could sleep in a more splendid palace than the man who slept under the stars. In the morning, Sinbad made up his mind and called upon his genie one last time.
"Do you know how early this is?" Murray wore flame-retardent pijamas with pictures of bugs bunny on them, also big slippers that were furry, like a bear's paws. A night cap rested on his head at a jaunty angle.
"Sorry. Look, I want to go back to the way I was. You can keep the apartment, the clothes, money. I just want to find Sherry. Move to the Village. Maybe do a little painting or get on another ship and sail away."
"You're not thinking. Don't you know that, in this city, 'money is the meaning of life'! Adjust! What's wrong with you?"
"It's not for me, no offense."
"There's a lot of women in this town. Sherry's nothing special. I can get you women that you would not believe. All it takes is a little cash."
"I don't think so. It's just not right for me. I like my freedom. All this money is like a ball and chain. I feel weighed down by it. Oppressed. I'll be happy finding enough to live on and that sense of possibility that fills your soul when all the ropes are cut and you sail away in your life."
"Here. This is my analyst's card. He's got an office on Park Avenue. He makes you fill out this long questionaire, then he's into primal screaming and aroma therapy. You'll like him."
"Look, Murray, I'm not criticizing your genie skills. But the 'Path of the Genie' is not really for me. I just want Sherry and a few other special people in my life, a chance to create some beauty, to think new thoughts, and experience life. You know what I mean?"
"You need to get in touch with your inner adult."
"Maybe you're right. Is it O.K. if I just give everything to charity?"
"I'll take it off your hands. Prices are going through the roof right now. I'm an investment wiz. Listen, I can do a little love potion for you as a going away present. This 'Sherry' will be crazy about you."
"No, it's no good that way. That's like money. It kills all genuineness, emotional truth. What I want is the ultimate magic, not the kind you can buy or get with regular, everyday tricks. You know?"
"I see what you mean. Lots of luck. Here, take this rabbit's foot. It couldn't hurt."
Sinbad went back to Strand Books. Sherry no longer worked there. He tried everywhere, even "The Dragon Lady" -- which was closed -- since cops raided the place after drug selling and illegal gambling were taking place in that establishment. Diana was looking at "life without parole." This was probably an improvement for Diana -- definitely what she deserves. No one knew where Sherry was to be found. Her place was empty. In fact, Sherry seemed to be wrapping up all the loose ends to put a final ... "punctuation mark" on this adventure.
A merchant vessel was sailing for France. Sinbad dreamed of visiting Paris, which he hoped would help ease his pain. Sinbad signed up as a seaman. Arriving to find his quarters, Sinbad discovered the skipper on this vessel playing chess with the first mate. The first mate was a husky brunette named "Victoria" and the skipper had light brown hair, green eyes, a cloth cap and was wearing a lovely smile when she saw her Sinbad again ...
This is all that we know of Sinbad's excellent New York adventure, and Allah is omniscient. So glory be to Him, whom the tides of time cannot waste away, nor does chance or change affect His sway. And peace be upon the Lord's Chosen One among His creatures, our Lord Mohammed, the Prince of humankind, through whom we send our prayers to our Lord for a good and divine end.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
A Soldier From the Camden Family Pleads Guilty.
"Camden: School Board Ex-Chief Pleads Guilty," in The New York Times, Otober 24, 2007, at p. B2.
David W. Chen, "South Jersey Democrats Poised to Shake Things Up," in The New York Times, October 24, 2007, at p. B3.
Michael Dobbs, To Play the King/House of Cards (London: Fontana, 1993).
Attempts to print a news story pertaining to the shocking law suit filed against the Hoboken Police Department by 5 Hispanic officers, alleging heinous ethnic and racist slurs made by ANGELO ANDRIANI -- who allegedly "intimidated" and "harassed" these officers and CARMEN LA BRUNO, who is fond of the n-word and other anti-black comments, allegedly, both of whom even described themselves as "God" to these Latino officers -- were obstructed on October 25, 2007 at 6:51 P.M. leaving me with a blank piece of paper bearing this address:
"A former Pleasantville school board president pleaded guilty yesterday in Federal District Court to attempted extortion in connection with school district construction contracts. The former president Jayson Adams, 27, accepted bribes in exchange for supporting bids for work in the Pleasantville Public Schools from F.B.I. informants posing as roofing and insurance contractors. As part of the plea agreement, he faces up to six and a half years in federal prison. A second former board member, Rafael Velez, pleaded guilty to the same charge yesterday, admitting that he had accepted bribes totaling $4,000 and had made arrangements to be paid $15,000 more. He faces a possible sentence of three to four years in prison. The men are among 11 current and former public officials in New Jersey arrested last month in a sweeping bribery sting."
This is only the beginning.
" ... Mr Codey is not very concerned about the Republicans, however. [Codey] is more wary, some party members say, of his fellow Democrats in South Jersey. They are allies of a longtime rival of his: George E. Norcross, III, the leader of the Camden County political machine and widely acknowledged to be the most influential power-broker in New Jersey."
Notice that Mr. Norcross holds no elective office and is still reputed to be much more powerful than Governor Corzine:
"Mr. Norcross dismissed that talk as idle speculation."
" ... 'I fully expect all of the Democratic Senators in South Jersey to support Dick Codey and will encourage them to continue his leadership as Senate president,' he said in a telephone interview on Friday."
Typical bullshit.
"Then referring to Assembly Speaker Joseph J. Roberts Jr., who is an ally and business associate of his, Mr. Norcross added, 'Joe Roberts and Dick Codey have worked well together for the state and for South Jersey.' ..."
What's really going on? Well, there are several theories (as usual): Codey and Roberts work very well with Norcross, but they can all see that Menendez may be indicted soon. Naturally, there will be a scramble for power in the junior Senator's absence, should Senator Bob find himself on the way to federal prison, which seems likely. Bob is on the phone cashing in chips, trying to run political interference against Christopher J. Christie. These tactics are generally unsuccessful with the feds.
The question is who will move in to the lucrative North Jersey patronage mill and power-base? No one in the party wants to look happy about Menendez getting busted (even though most of them are thrilled!), since they want Menendez people to support them and not the Republicans, and at the same time, they hope to send the message that, for once, New Jersey Democrats are going to be honest. They usually laugh after saying such things. New Jersey's Republicans also laugh. Republicans are like missionaries compared to the Democrats in New Jersey.
The Jersey Boys are playing a good cop/bad cop routine where Codey is the good cop, concerned about North Jersey, and Norcross (who can't be voted out of office) is the bad cop, seeking to take over Hudson County for the powers of darkness and the gaming industry -- these are overlapping categories.
Codey promises to keep the barbarians outside of the city gates, if they make him Chancellor and Emperor. Codey might become a new "Metternich from Essex County," promising to negotiate a new peace after the "Vienna Congress" (make that Newark) -- if he is granted absolute power. Meanwhile, Codey, Roberts and Norcross will split the loot later, while the Republicans are left trying, desperately, to defend the policies of the George W. Bush Administration, an unenviable task, even as Corey Booker is isolated and made irrelevant to the suburbs.
New Jersey politics will then remain "white man's country." Tuchin and Riccioli will continue to do their dirty deeds for the powers that be and nothing happens in response to the visible criminality and incompetence among members of the judiciary and the laughable as well as corrupt New Jersey Supreme Court.
Codey, Roberts and Norcross may be evil -- "you may wish to say that, but I couldn't possibly comment!" -- however, they are not stupid.
David W. Chen, "South Jersey Democrats Poised to Shake Things Up," in The New York Times, October 24, 2007, at p. B3.
Michael Dobbs, To Play the King/House of Cards (London: Fontana, 1993).
Attempts to print a news story pertaining to the shocking law suit filed against the Hoboken Police Department by 5 Hispanic officers, alleging heinous ethnic and racist slurs made by ANGELO ANDRIANI -- who allegedly "intimidated" and "harassed" these officers and CARMEN LA BRUNO, who is fond of the n-word and other anti-black comments, allegedly, both of whom even described themselves as "God" to these Latino officers -- were obstructed on October 25, 2007 at 6:51 P.M. leaving me with a blank piece of paper bearing this address:
http://ad.doubleclick.net/adj/N4174.centro/B2306167.56;sz=728x90;ord=248470536?
The story can be found at http://abclocal.go.com/wabc/story?section=local&id=5724554 (See references to Hoboken policemen DAVID ROBERTS and KEN FERRANTE). I wonder whether these police officers or any others have been part of the criminal harassment efforts directed against this site? I have a feeling we're going to find out. I have run several scans today, but I am unable to connect to the "Live Update" server for my security system, which is being blocked.
"A former Pleasantville school board president pleaded guilty yesterday in Federal District Court to attempted extortion in connection with school district construction contracts. The former president Jayson Adams, 27, accepted bribes in exchange for supporting bids for work in the Pleasantville Public Schools from F.B.I. informants posing as roofing and insurance contractors. As part of the plea agreement, he faces up to six and a half years in federal prison. A second former board member, Rafael Velez, pleaded guilty to the same charge yesterday, admitting that he had accepted bribes totaling $4,000 and had made arrangements to be paid $15,000 more. He faces a possible sentence of three to four years in prison. The men are among 11 current and former public officials in New Jersey arrested last month in a sweeping bribery sting."
This is only the beginning.
" ... Mr Codey is not very concerned about the Republicans, however. [Codey] is more wary, some party members say, of his fellow Democrats in South Jersey. They are allies of a longtime rival of his: George E. Norcross, III, the leader of the Camden County political machine and widely acknowledged to be the most influential power-broker in New Jersey."
Notice that Mr. Norcross holds no elective office and is still reputed to be much more powerful than Governor Corzine:
"Mr. Norcross dismissed that talk as idle speculation."
" ... 'I fully expect all of the Democratic Senators in South Jersey to support Dick Codey and will encourage them to continue his leadership as Senate president,' he said in a telephone interview on Friday."
Typical bullshit.
"Then referring to Assembly Speaker Joseph J. Roberts Jr., who is an ally and business associate of his, Mr. Norcross added, 'Joe Roberts and Dick Codey have worked well together for the state and for South Jersey.' ..."
What's really going on? Well, there are several theories (as usual): Codey and Roberts work very well with Norcross, but they can all see that Menendez may be indicted soon. Naturally, there will be a scramble for power in the junior Senator's absence, should Senator Bob find himself on the way to federal prison, which seems likely. Bob is on the phone cashing in chips, trying to run political interference against Christopher J. Christie. These tactics are generally unsuccessful with the feds.
The question is who will move in to the lucrative North Jersey patronage mill and power-base? No one in the party wants to look happy about Menendez getting busted (even though most of them are thrilled!), since they want Menendez people to support them and not the Republicans, and at the same time, they hope to send the message that, for once, New Jersey Democrats are going to be honest. They usually laugh after saying such things. New Jersey's Republicans also laugh. Republicans are like missionaries compared to the Democrats in New Jersey.
The Jersey Boys are playing a good cop/bad cop routine where Codey is the good cop, concerned about North Jersey, and Norcross (who can't be voted out of office) is the bad cop, seeking to take over Hudson County for the powers of darkness and the gaming industry -- these are overlapping categories.
Codey promises to keep the barbarians outside of the city gates, if they make him Chancellor and Emperor. Codey might become a new "Metternich from Essex County," promising to negotiate a new peace after the "Vienna Congress" (make that Newark) -- if he is granted absolute power. Meanwhile, Codey, Roberts and Norcross will split the loot later, while the Republicans are left trying, desperately, to defend the policies of the George W. Bush Administration, an unenviable task, even as Corey Booker is isolated and made irrelevant to the suburbs.
New Jersey politics will then remain "white man's country." Tuchin and Riccioli will continue to do their dirty deeds for the powers that be and nothing happens in response to the visible criminality and incompetence among members of the judiciary and the laughable as well as corrupt New Jersey Supreme Court.
Codey, Roberts and Norcross may be evil -- "you may wish to say that, but I couldn't possibly comment!" -- however, they are not stupid.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Another New Jersey Corrupt Official Pleads Guilty -- More on the Way!
Jeremy W. Peters, "Ex-Offficial Pleads Guilty in Corruption Scandal," in The New York Times, October 20, 2007, at p. B2.
David W. Chen, "Attorney General Charges Four Jersey City Judges in Ticket Fixing," in The New York Times, October 23, 2007, at p. B5.
I am experiencing new difficulties in using my computer October 24, 2007 at 11:38 A.M. I will continue to struggle. October 22, 2007 at 9:39 A.M. I was shocked to discover that someone hacked into my computer and inserted "errors" in a draft of a short story that I am working on. I have now corrected them. I am blocking:
http://view.atdmt.com/iview/msnnkhac001300x250...
http://view.atdmt.com/iview/msnnkhac001160x600...
http://view.atdmt.com/iview/msnnkhac001728x90...
http://view.atdmt.com/NYC/iview/spcfaccs/03400...
It doesn't do any good to complain to the police because these hackers either are the police or have permission to indulge in cybercrimes. I will do my best to struggle against these censorship efforts. Spacing may be affected in this essay. On October 21, 2007 at 2:21 P.M. attempts to print items from my MSN group left me with a blank piece of paper bearing this address:
http://ad.doubleclick.net/adi/N2998.MSN/B2491482.9;sz=72890;ord=34816780?
"TRENTON, Oct. 19 -- A former New Jersey assemblyman and Passaic County undersheriff who was arrested last month in a federal corruption sting pleaded guilty on Friday to attempted extortion."
"In doing so, the former official the Rev. Alfred E. Steele of Paterson, a Baptist minister, became the first of 11 state and local officials who were charged to admit involvement in a scheme to accept bribes for arranging public contracts."
"Mr. Steele, who resigned from public office after his arrest, admitted in court on Friday that he had accepted $15,500 to help steer government insurance business to a company that was a front for the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
"... The lawyer, George P. Hannigan, said he expected that Mr. Steele would receive a reduced sentence of 37 to 46 months because of the guilty plea."
Think about it, Senator Bob. Anne Milgram appeared on television news shows to proclaim an on-going investigation of Jersey City Municipal Court judges for "fixing" cases. What a shock. There are several responses to this development and to Stuart Rabner's decision to investigate all municipal courts in the state. First, Superior Court judges are just as corrupt, and often worse than their municipal court brethren; second, none of this will detract from the achievements of federal prosecutors who have shamed New Jersey, at last, into finally taking this token action. Big indictments are coming down soon, I suspect, as New Jersey's political scene is drastically altered by "surprises."
"The United States attorney for New Jersey, Christopher J. Christie, however, declined to say how long a sentence he would recommend."
The crimes committed by this ex-official are part of ROUTINE tainted government business in New Jersey, where theft takes place on a daily basis. Promiment elected officials are caught on tape -- through henchmen -- extorting payoffs and favors, regularly, and nothing ever happens to politicians doing the extorting. Nice work if you can get it, huh?
Right, Senator Bob? How's your favorite psychiatrist doing in Hudson County? Did you get to "wet your beak a little"?
The OAE and other ethics enforcement mechanisms are coopted, judges are intimidated or stupid -- but enough about Stuart Rabner -- and the public is apathetic and numb to corruption, mostly because it is a daily reality in their New Jersey lives, so that they cannot conceive of interactions with government agencies in any other terms. Politicians and elected officials steal. That's just how it is. The only question people ask is: "How much do we have to pay under the table?"
"The corruption investigation that tripped up Mr. Steele" -- the irony in that name should give up pause ("Steele" or "Steal"?), no wonder that, in New Jersey, God is said to have a sense of humor -- "resulted in the arrest of 10 other public officials across the state, including a colleague of Mr. Steele in the State Assembly, Mims Hackett Jr. [who happens to be the Garden State official once in charge of drafting "ethics legislation"!] and the mayor of Passaic, Samuel Rivera."
There are many more convictions on the way. Ethics? In New Jersey? Nah ... Badda-bing, badda-boom, he, he he ... Hey, the other shoe just dropped:
"TRENTON. Oct. 22 -- The state attorney general, Anne Milgram, on Monday, accused 4 of Jersey City's 10 Municipal Court judges of fixing parking tickets" -- and probably criminal cases also -- "for friends, relatives and two of the judges themselves."
A fifth judge has not been named in this accusation, although he has resigned. I wonder why? Cooperating? Informing? 50% of Jersey City judges are demonstrably corrupt, others may also be corrupt -- even if they have not been busted this time. This is about typical for New Jersey Municipal Courts. Comparable level courts are worse in many other towns. Union City and North Bergen in Hudson County are probably far worse courts and governments.
One problem in New Jersey law is all the secrecy, behind-the-back destruction efforts from politicians pissed off that you don't bribe them or pay tribute, and all of the organized crime involvement in politics and the judiciary. Local prosecutors' offices are sometimes corrupt, always political places, where evidence has been known to disappear or to be manufactured, as needed. Gallipoli and other supervising judges are tainted or distracted by self-worship or (not in Gallipoli's case) stupidity.
Anne Milgram has finally hired good people around her who may know what they are doing. Ms. Milgram has no criminal experience and has never tried a criminal case. She probably does not have Municipal Court experience. In fact, she may never have tried any Superior or Municipal Court case. Milgram's legal career has been "on the government tit," as a N.J. politician I knew used to say. Naturally, Ms. Milgram may have political juice, like most bureaucrats. Hence, it is likely that Milgram is a front person for the political boys -- Codey and Roberts -- who want to embarass Jersey City Mayor Healy because he is not playing ball with the powers that be. I bet you didn't learn any of this stuff in your civics course or in law school.
It is anticipated -- eagerly in Camden -- that Senator Menendez will be indicted (very likely), thus creating a power-vacuum into which the Camden machine and friends may enter, on point, like Natalia Makarova. (Think of Richard J. Codey in a tutu and in fifth position.) Anne may not appreciate these realities. We are going to hold her to this statement:
"The system only works, and can only work, when judges make impartial decisions based on the facts, and when they do so in open court, subject to transparency to public scrutiny."
Think of how it feels for a person to read those words who knows that decisions are made on the basis of secret torture sessions conducted under hypnosis, secretly filed reports and secret testimony from experts, who are not confronted with their own lies and contradictions, nor with their own violations of law. All kinds of hearsay and inuendo must be heard by these decision makers as victims are denied rights to confrontation and cross-examination. Threats to release such uncorroborated slanders and hearsay to the media are meant to discourage or frighten truth-seekers. Nothing is beneath these people or their media serfs.
Does one laugh or scream at the N.J. "legal" world? A little of both. One is dealing with Mafia capos in judicial robes, including some who happen to be Cubans.
These words concerning "transparency" by Milgram are blatant lies until something is done about the horrors to which I and so many others, I am sure, have been subjected. These crimes in Jersey City courts are "business as usual" in New Jersey's legal system, which has been poisoned by organized crime for years. Anne Milgram either knows this or she is even more incompetent than she appears to be.
David W. Chen, "Attorney General Charges Four Jersey City Judges in Ticket Fixing," in The New York Times, October 23, 2007, at p. B5.
I am experiencing new difficulties in using my computer October 24, 2007 at 11:38 A.M. I will continue to struggle. October 22, 2007 at 9:39 A.M. I was shocked to discover that someone hacked into my computer and inserted "errors" in a draft of a short story that I am working on. I have now corrected them. I am blocking:
http://view.atdmt.com/iview/msnnkhac001300x250...
http://view.atdmt.com/iview/msnnkhac001160x600...
http://view.atdmt.com/iview/msnnkhac001728x90...
http://view.atdmt.com/NYC/iview/spcfaccs/03400...
It doesn't do any good to complain to the police because these hackers either are the police or have permission to indulge in cybercrimes. I will do my best to struggle against these censorship efforts. Spacing may be affected in this essay. On October 21, 2007 at 2:21 P.M. attempts to print items from my MSN group left me with a blank piece of paper bearing this address:
http://ad.doubleclick.net/adi/N2998.MSN/B2491482.9;sz=72890;ord=34816780?
"TRENTON, Oct. 19 -- A former New Jersey assemblyman and Passaic County undersheriff who was arrested last month in a federal corruption sting pleaded guilty on Friday to attempted extortion."
"In doing so, the former official the Rev. Alfred E. Steele of Paterson, a Baptist minister, became the first of 11 state and local officials who were charged to admit involvement in a scheme to accept bribes for arranging public contracts."
"Mr. Steele, who resigned from public office after his arrest, admitted in court on Friday that he had accepted $15,500 to help steer government insurance business to a company that was a front for the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
"... The lawyer, George P. Hannigan, said he expected that Mr. Steele would receive a reduced sentence of 37 to 46 months because of the guilty plea."
Think about it, Senator Bob. Anne Milgram appeared on television news shows to proclaim an on-going investigation of Jersey City Municipal Court judges for "fixing" cases. What a shock. There are several responses to this development and to Stuart Rabner's decision to investigate all municipal courts in the state. First, Superior Court judges are just as corrupt, and often worse than their municipal court brethren; second, none of this will detract from the achievements of federal prosecutors who have shamed New Jersey, at last, into finally taking this token action. Big indictments are coming down soon, I suspect, as New Jersey's political scene is drastically altered by "surprises."
"The United States attorney for New Jersey, Christopher J. Christie, however, declined to say how long a sentence he would recommend."
The crimes committed by this ex-official are part of ROUTINE tainted government business in New Jersey, where theft takes place on a daily basis. Promiment elected officials are caught on tape -- through henchmen -- extorting payoffs and favors, regularly, and nothing ever happens to politicians doing the extorting. Nice work if you can get it, huh?
Right, Senator Bob? How's your favorite psychiatrist doing in Hudson County? Did you get to "wet your beak a little"?
The OAE and other ethics enforcement mechanisms are coopted, judges are intimidated or stupid -- but enough about Stuart Rabner -- and the public is apathetic and numb to corruption, mostly because it is a daily reality in their New Jersey lives, so that they cannot conceive of interactions with government agencies in any other terms. Politicians and elected officials steal. That's just how it is. The only question people ask is: "How much do we have to pay under the table?"
"The corruption investigation that tripped up Mr. Steele" -- the irony in that name should give up pause ("Steele" or "Steal"?), no wonder that, in New Jersey, God is said to have a sense of humor -- "resulted in the arrest of 10 other public officials across the state, including a colleague of Mr. Steele in the State Assembly, Mims Hackett Jr. [who happens to be the Garden State official once in charge of drafting "ethics legislation"!] and the mayor of Passaic, Samuel Rivera."
There are many more convictions on the way. Ethics? In New Jersey? Nah ... Badda-bing, badda-boom, he, he he ... Hey, the other shoe just dropped:
"TRENTON. Oct. 22 -- The state attorney general, Anne Milgram, on Monday, accused 4 of Jersey City's 10 Municipal Court judges of fixing parking tickets" -- and probably criminal cases also -- "for friends, relatives and two of the judges themselves."
A fifth judge has not been named in this accusation, although he has resigned. I wonder why? Cooperating? Informing? 50% of Jersey City judges are demonstrably corrupt, others may also be corrupt -- even if they have not been busted this time. This is about typical for New Jersey Municipal Courts. Comparable level courts are worse in many other towns. Union City and North Bergen in Hudson County are probably far worse courts and governments.
One problem in New Jersey law is all the secrecy, behind-the-back destruction efforts from politicians pissed off that you don't bribe them or pay tribute, and all of the organized crime involvement in politics and the judiciary. Local prosecutors' offices are sometimes corrupt, always political places, where evidence has been known to disappear or to be manufactured, as needed. Gallipoli and other supervising judges are tainted or distracted by self-worship or (not in Gallipoli's case) stupidity.
Anne Milgram has finally hired good people around her who may know what they are doing. Ms. Milgram has no criminal experience and has never tried a criminal case. She probably does not have Municipal Court experience. In fact, she may never have tried any Superior or Municipal Court case. Milgram's legal career has been "on the government tit," as a N.J. politician I knew used to say. Naturally, Ms. Milgram may have political juice, like most bureaucrats. Hence, it is likely that Milgram is a front person for the political boys -- Codey and Roberts -- who want to embarass Jersey City Mayor Healy because he is not playing ball with the powers that be. I bet you didn't learn any of this stuff in your civics course or in law school.
It is anticipated -- eagerly in Camden -- that Senator Menendez will be indicted (very likely), thus creating a power-vacuum into which the Camden machine and friends may enter, on point, like Natalia Makarova. (Think of Richard J. Codey in a tutu and in fifth position.) Anne may not appreciate these realities. We are going to hold her to this statement:
"The system only works, and can only work, when judges make impartial decisions based on the facts, and when they do so in open court, subject to transparency to public scrutiny."
Think of how it feels for a person to read those words who knows that decisions are made on the basis of secret torture sessions conducted under hypnosis, secretly filed reports and secret testimony from experts, who are not confronted with their own lies and contradictions, nor with their own violations of law. All kinds of hearsay and inuendo must be heard by these decision makers as victims are denied rights to confrontation and cross-examination. Threats to release such uncorroborated slanders and hearsay to the media are meant to discourage or frighten truth-seekers. Nothing is beneath these people or their media serfs.
Does one laugh or scream at the N.J. "legal" world? A little of both. One is dealing with Mafia capos in judicial robes, including some who happen to be Cubans.
These words concerning "transparency" by Milgram are blatant lies until something is done about the horrors to which I and so many others, I am sure, have been subjected. These crimes in Jersey City courts are "business as usual" in New Jersey's legal system, which has been poisoned by organized crime for years. Anne Milgram either knows this or she is even more incompetent than she appears to be.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
The Soldier and the Ballerina.
This story is dedicated to Jose Marti. (Spacing of paragraphs has been affected by hackers.)
Once upon a time there was a very old toy maker who carved wonderful, life-like toys for all of the children in the village. One winter he worked with special care on a set of twelve wooden soldiers that were to be given to the children of Count Bezukhov for Christmas. The figures were exact reproductions of the Czar's personal guard. Every detail of the miniature uniforms was perfect, every brass button, medal and polished leather boot was exactly accurate, each figure was a tiny masterpiece of reproduction.
Everyone said that these figures were miraculously life-like. Only one, the captain of the troop, was given a sword made of metal and a red cap. He was a very dashing wooden soldier, who always tried to stand a bit straighter than the others. Most people say that he was the finest wooden soldier that had ever been carved. People who visited the shop commented on the beauty and life-like quality of these wooden soldiers.
On Christmas eve the Countess herself arrived to pick up the box with the wooden soldiers for her son. She was delighted that they were so impressive, but was dismayed that she had nothing equally magnificent to give to her daughter. The toy-maker smiled and, with a bow, offered the Countess a ballerina that he had made that very day.
The ballerina had golden hair woven out of the finest silk, her eyes were green, fashioned from tiny emeralds, her lips were the color of rose petals. She wore a gown made of white paper and her dancing shoes were blue. Her skin was painted white and she was made of fine alabaster.
"This will make a lovely gift for your daughter, my lady," said the toy-maker.
"Oh, yes ... she is lovely," said the Countess, who paid four gold coins for the wooden soldiers and the ballerina.
That evening the toys were wrapped in the finest paper and placed under the Christmas tree by servants at the castle. The next morning the children opened their gifts and were amused and happy to play with them. Maria, who loved her ballerina, was nine years-old; Ivan was twelve years-old -- and wore a uniform exactly like the one worn by the captain of his wooden soldiers. He called the toy soldiers: "My personal guard."
In the evenings, the children finished with their toys and left them for the servants to put away. This was a dangerous time for the toys because large German guard dogs were free to wander through the castle. As the dogs were always hungry, they tended to chew on any toys that were left behind by the servants. Whenever this happened the toys were destroyed and had to be thrown away. It was a most horrible way to end their lives, being chewed and broken into pieces by fearsome dogs. All of the toys were quite concerned not to be left behind by the servants.
One evening, as the servants placed the box of wooden soldiers into the toy chest of young Ivan, the dashing captain of the guard noticed that they had forgotten the ballerina. They had left her behind and the guard dogs had already been released into the great hall. Once the lights were put out, the captain of the guard climbed out of his box -- despite the protests and warnings shouted by his friends -- and made his way down, slowly, from the toy chest.
It was very dark and the great hall was far away, yet he knew that he had to find it somehow. He wandered through the castle, and every step that he took was accompanied by the howling of the large dogs. He was frightened, not for himself, only for the beautiful ballerina with the emerald eyes and yellow hair that was soft, like rain water.
It semed to take him forever to walk back towards the great hall. It was very cold, the fire was burning low. He could hear the growls of the black German dogs coming closer, so loud now, but his heart thundered only when he saw the ballerina face-down in the middle of the room, lying forgotten and abandoned on the cold stone floor. Everyone was nice to her when she was pretty and sitting on top of the toy chest, Maria's favorite toy, but when she lay in the middle of this cold and dark room, exposed to danger, none of the other toys would join him in coming to help her. This angered him. Most of the other toys were not good soldiers, as he tried to be, for her.
He then recalled how difficult he often found it to speak to her. She was so lovely that he forgot his words or stammered. It is most embarassing to stammer when speaking to a ballerina, yet soldiers are prone to this condition.
Now there was no time to think. The dogs entered the room and saw her. So the captain of the wooden soldiers ran as fast as he could and arrived at the ballerina's side just as the dogs came near, growling and circling around them both.
"Are you all right?" He asked.
"I am very frightened and so cold."
She said this while looking at him in wonder, perhaps seeing him for the first time. She had not really noticed him before, he thought, even though he always looked very fit around her and polished all of the buttons on his uniform twice as long as usual, whenever she came by. Ballerinas are often like that, he believed, based on his vast experience. They were difficult to impress. They pretended not to notice you for some reason, but then if you did not look at them, they became angry. Ballerinas are mysterious creatures.
He grabbed her arm and ran towards the chair nearest to them. "Please get under there," said the captain of the guard. He explained that the dogs would find it difficult to reach her behind the massive wooden legs of the chair. He gave her his sword and said:
"If they stick their heads in here, hit their noses with this sword."
She nodded her head and said, "yes."
Then the captain of the guard ran as fast as he could to the middle of the room, so the dogs would notice him and leave the ballerina in peace. They came after him and he ran in circles. One of the dogs reached him and bit down on his head. The biggest of the dogs chewed on the wooden soldier and shook its huge head, throwing him across the room; then the other dog ran and caught him, chewing down on his legs. All night the dogs threw him across the room and chewed on his wooden body, but he never screamed and he was happy because he knew that the ballerina was safe.
The next morning servants entered the great hall and found a beautiful ballerina doll under the massive arm chair, but she was not damaged at all. They combed her golden hair, straightened her white dress, and placed her on the toy chest, where all of the other toys greeted her. She would only ask about the captain of the guard, but he was nowhere to be found.
The servants found pieces of the wooden soldier everywhere in the great hall. His legs were torn to bits, his hands and arms too. Most of his face was chewed off, but one eye could still be seen and part of his nose. They gathered all of the pices and threw them in a large barrel filled with the trash that was to be burned. Later the barrel of trash was placed outside, as it happened, just below the window of the children's room.
The wooden soldier was very tired and hurt. Yet he found new strength when he looked up at the window, for he saw the beautiful ballerina smiling at her friends. The wooden soldier was happy whenever he looked at the ballerina. It was almost as though he could hear music when she smiled. And then, something very unusual happened that no wooden soldier had ever accomplished, he felt a tear run down his cheek, for the beautiful ballerina was staring down at him from the window and she was crying.
Once upon a time there was a very old toy maker who carved wonderful, life-like toys for all of the children in the village. One winter he worked with special care on a set of twelve wooden soldiers that were to be given to the children of Count Bezukhov for Christmas. The figures were exact reproductions of the Czar's personal guard. Every detail of the miniature uniforms was perfect, every brass button, medal and polished leather boot was exactly accurate, each figure was a tiny masterpiece of reproduction.
Everyone said that these figures were miraculously life-like. Only one, the captain of the troop, was given a sword made of metal and a red cap. He was a very dashing wooden soldier, who always tried to stand a bit straighter than the others. Most people say that he was the finest wooden soldier that had ever been carved. People who visited the shop commented on the beauty and life-like quality of these wooden soldiers.
On Christmas eve the Countess herself arrived to pick up the box with the wooden soldiers for her son. She was delighted that they were so impressive, but was dismayed that she had nothing equally magnificent to give to her daughter. The toy-maker smiled and, with a bow, offered the Countess a ballerina that he had made that very day.
The ballerina had golden hair woven out of the finest silk, her eyes were green, fashioned from tiny emeralds, her lips were the color of rose petals. She wore a gown made of white paper and her dancing shoes were blue. Her skin was painted white and she was made of fine alabaster.
"This will make a lovely gift for your daughter, my lady," said the toy-maker.
"Oh, yes ... she is lovely," said the Countess, who paid four gold coins for the wooden soldiers and the ballerina.
That evening the toys were wrapped in the finest paper and placed under the Christmas tree by servants at the castle. The next morning the children opened their gifts and were amused and happy to play with them. Maria, who loved her ballerina, was nine years-old; Ivan was twelve years-old -- and wore a uniform exactly like the one worn by the captain of his wooden soldiers. He called the toy soldiers: "My personal guard."
In the evenings, the children finished with their toys and left them for the servants to put away. This was a dangerous time for the toys because large German guard dogs were free to wander through the castle. As the dogs were always hungry, they tended to chew on any toys that were left behind by the servants. Whenever this happened the toys were destroyed and had to be thrown away. It was a most horrible way to end their lives, being chewed and broken into pieces by fearsome dogs. All of the toys were quite concerned not to be left behind by the servants.
One evening, as the servants placed the box of wooden soldiers into the toy chest of young Ivan, the dashing captain of the guard noticed that they had forgotten the ballerina. They had left her behind and the guard dogs had already been released into the great hall. Once the lights were put out, the captain of the guard climbed out of his box -- despite the protests and warnings shouted by his friends -- and made his way down, slowly, from the toy chest.
It was very dark and the great hall was far away, yet he knew that he had to find it somehow. He wandered through the castle, and every step that he took was accompanied by the howling of the large dogs. He was frightened, not for himself, only for the beautiful ballerina with the emerald eyes and yellow hair that was soft, like rain water.
It semed to take him forever to walk back towards the great hall. It was very cold, the fire was burning low. He could hear the growls of the black German dogs coming closer, so loud now, but his heart thundered only when he saw the ballerina face-down in the middle of the room, lying forgotten and abandoned on the cold stone floor. Everyone was nice to her when she was pretty and sitting on top of the toy chest, Maria's favorite toy, but when she lay in the middle of this cold and dark room, exposed to danger, none of the other toys would join him in coming to help her. This angered him. Most of the other toys were not good soldiers, as he tried to be, for her.
He then recalled how difficult he often found it to speak to her. She was so lovely that he forgot his words or stammered. It is most embarassing to stammer when speaking to a ballerina, yet soldiers are prone to this condition.
Now there was no time to think. The dogs entered the room and saw her. So the captain of the wooden soldiers ran as fast as he could and arrived at the ballerina's side just as the dogs came near, growling and circling around them both.
"Are you all right?" He asked.
"I am very frightened and so cold."
She said this while looking at him in wonder, perhaps seeing him for the first time. She had not really noticed him before, he thought, even though he always looked very fit around her and polished all of the buttons on his uniform twice as long as usual, whenever she came by. Ballerinas are often like that, he believed, based on his vast experience. They were difficult to impress. They pretended not to notice you for some reason, but then if you did not look at them, they became angry. Ballerinas are mysterious creatures.
He grabbed her arm and ran towards the chair nearest to them. "Please get under there," said the captain of the guard. He explained that the dogs would find it difficult to reach her behind the massive wooden legs of the chair. He gave her his sword and said:
"If they stick their heads in here, hit their noses with this sword."
She nodded her head and said, "yes."
Then the captain of the guard ran as fast as he could to the middle of the room, so the dogs would notice him and leave the ballerina in peace. They came after him and he ran in circles. One of the dogs reached him and bit down on his head. The biggest of the dogs chewed on the wooden soldier and shook its huge head, throwing him across the room; then the other dog ran and caught him, chewing down on his legs. All night the dogs threw him across the room and chewed on his wooden body, but he never screamed and he was happy because he knew that the ballerina was safe.
The next morning servants entered the great hall and found a beautiful ballerina doll under the massive arm chair, but she was not damaged at all. They combed her golden hair, straightened her white dress, and placed her on the toy chest, where all of the other toys greeted her. She would only ask about the captain of the guard, but he was nowhere to be found.
The servants found pieces of the wooden soldier everywhere in the great hall. His legs were torn to bits, his hands and arms too. Most of his face was chewed off, but one eye could still be seen and part of his nose. They gathered all of the pices and threw them in a large barrel filled with the trash that was to be burned. Later the barrel of trash was placed outside, as it happened, just below the window of the children's room.
The wooden soldier was very tired and hurt. Yet he found new strength when he looked up at the window, for he saw the beautiful ballerina smiling at her friends. The wooden soldier was happy whenever he looked at the ballerina. It was almost as though he could hear music when she smiled. And then, something very unusual happened that no wooden soldier had ever accomplished, he felt a tear run down his cheek, for the beautiful ballerina was staring down at him from the window and she was crying.
Monday, October 15, 2007
More Racism Charges Against New Jersey's State Police.
Joyce Carol Oates, "A Troubling Encounter With the State Police," in The New York Times, New Jersey and the Region, October 14, 2007, at p. 21.
"An Ethics Syllabus," in The New York Times, October 14, 2007, New Jersey and the Region, at p. 21.
"Trenton: Corrections Department Criticized," in The New York Times, October 16, 2007, at p. B4.
Norman Mailer, "Introduction," In the Belly of the Beast (New York: Vintage, 1981), pp. ix-xvi.
Amnesty International, The Case of Mumia Abu-Jamal (New York: Seven Stories, 2000).
Spacing has been affected in this essay and new obstacles as well as "errors" inserted in the text are always anticipated. More harassing phone calls on October 15, 2007 at 11:32 A.M. from 520-124-6246. As of 9:24 P.M. I am unable to access MSN and have been prevented from posting at blogger for hours. I will keep trying. My book is still not being distributed to book sellers. On October 17, 2007 at 6:58 P.M. more annoying calls from 305-375-7280. Florida. CANF? For some reason, my print-out of this essay -- at page three -- is without a page number or an address at the bottom of the page. I wonder why? I am blocking:
Access to my MSN account is still being blocked by hackers mysteriously using N.J. government computers. I have decided to spend some time this morning not posting a revised version of my essay on "America's Holocaust," since that is impossible at this time, but discussing once again the sad and ugly spectacle of corruption, malice, racism and hypocrisy among New Jersey's judges and police officials. (Numerous "errors" have been inserted in this text, even in draft form, so I will correct them. I fully anticipate that I will need to do so again in the future.)
"... I was being driven back from a literary event in New York to my home in Princeton," Joyce Carol Oates writes, "by a black driver for a well-known limousine service. At about 11 p.m., somewhere on the turnpike between Newark and New Brunswick, New Jersey state troopers signaled for my driver to pull over. They subjected him to approximately 40 minutes of harsh and repetitive interrogation ('What's your name?' 'Where do you live?' 'Where are you headed?' and so on) for no evident reason."
The reason was skin color. In a similar way, numerous harassment efforts are directed at websites with my writings, from behind the scenes probably, any prospective publishers or opportunities that come my way will be destroyed (if New Jersey authorities, I believe, become aware of them), obstructions to writing efforts on-line, hundreds and even thousands of viruses, illegal spyware, other attacks against my system are routine. These efforts have persisted and will go on for much longer than forty minutes -- for years, in fact, as a kind of "ass covering efffort" to discourage continued criticisms of the Garden State's torture practices, together with denying, ignoring or stonewalling in response to effforts to obtain Tuchin's and Riccioli's secretly prepared and filed reports, along with the truth concerning my life. How many others are tortured and raped, in every sense, by New Jersey authorities we may never know. (See "Even in New Jersey There Comes a Time When Silence is Betrayal.")
"There were two white troopers who demanded to see the driver's and my identification" -- the troopers had no legal right to demand the passenger's identification -- "forced the driver to get out of the car and subjected him to questioning with increased belligerence."
Had Ms. Oates not been a passenger and witness, it is highly likely that her driver would have been struck or severely beaten, then charged with "resisting arrest" and accused of failing to use a turn signal or not wearing a seat belt, or the old stand-by: "warrants for parking tickets." These warrants can be generated any time by friends at headquarters, then shrugged off as a good faith mistake. In the same way, police in some New Jersey cities have illegal guns handy to plant on African-Americans murdered "by mistake" in order to make things look good -- allegedly. I would not be surprised if something similar turns out to have happened in Mumia Abu-Jamal's case. No wonder they want to discourage me from writing. They are concerned about people reading these truths. They should be.
"I was not allowed to know what was going on, and when after about 10 minutes I made a tentative gesture to open the car door, the troopers yelled at me, 'Stay in the car lady!' They then walked the driver about 20 feet away from the limousine, to continue to interrogate or harass him out of earshot."
The troopers will say that persons are kept in their vehicle to protect officers from passengers who will fire at them. This is true, as far as it goes, but the real reason in most instances where troopers know that there is no real danger is to isolate and increase anxiety on their victims-"suspects" (who are inevitably African-Americans). Also, the goal was no doubt to create problems for the driver with his client and employer, since passengers tend not to enjoy being kept waiting for nearly an hour for no reason or being treated like a felon, also for no reason. (A new "error" that is not found in my printed version of this essay was just inserted in the text.) Curiously, torture and rape are even more distressing for victims, regardless of whether these things are said to be for the victim's "own good." (See "Terry Tuchin, Diana Lisa Riccioli, and New Jersey's Agency of Torture" and "What is it like to be tortured?")
"I called my husband on my cellphone to explain that I was going to be late returning home, as it looked as if my driver was being 'arrested' for some reason."
For no reason other than race.
"(As the minutes passed, it occurred to me to dial 911 and report this incident, but, with my instinct for irony, I guessed that the police officers who would be notified about the incident would be these very New Jersey state troopers, which would have made them even more angry and belligerent.)"
What they want is homage. They want you to bow, humiliate yourself, grant their superiority and god-like status, then they'll let the average innocent person go. This is something that one might manage on a single occasion -- without being too proud of it -- but unless a man has lost all semblance of dignity and self-esteem, pride is not something that will be surrendered for long and much less for a lifetime.
The unpardonable sin which places some African-American men and women as well as "others" in U.S. prisons -- or even leads to the gas chamber in some cases -- is an unwillingness to accept slavery. To insist on one's human rights and dignity, over a period of years, despite hypnosis, psychological torture, and professional destruction may well constitute a capital offense for minority persons in New Jersey.
"Fortunately for both of us the driver was unfailingly courteous, soft-spoken and obedient. Perhaps he'd been pulled over by New Jersey state troopers before."
Very likely. Such a surrender of a man's dignity, over a period of years will reach the point at which he has no more pride to give, for he has been made into nothing, something sub-human. African-American women understand what has been done to their husbands, fathers, sons in ways that most white women do not. Hence, they have a different measure by which to judge conduct that is incomprehensible for those who cannot imagine such experiences over a lifetime.
They will be repeated -- these rituals of humiliation -- preferably with the assistance of sold out minority persons. There are minorities so broken on this wheel of power that they become its servants at the expense of their brothers and sisters. I have seen homeless men opening doors and performing in public, a kind of hideous caricature-dance of racist stereotypes into which they have been transfomed, like marionettes begging for coins, like the "things" that they have been made into. Some people will die before they accept such a role. Anything that breaks a human being's psyche in such a manner is evil. (More "errors" inserted and corrected.)
You are witnessing daily efforts to destroy these writings (and this writer) for saying unsayable things in America, also for refusing to accept or legitimate, crimes against humanity committed against him and others in New Jersey. I am running my scans. I will persist in the struggle to speak this truth to corrupt officials in New Jersey and the world. Is it possible for you to remain silent and indifferent to what you are seeing?
"There is a paradox at the core of penology," Norman Mailer writes, "and from it derives the thousand ills and afflictions of the prison system. It is that not only the worst of the young are sent to prison, but the best -- that is, the proudest, the bravest, the most daring, the most enterprising, and the most undefeated of the poor. There starts the horror. ... prison is equipped to grind down criminals who are cowards into social submission, but can only break the spirit of brave men [and women] who are criminals, or anneal them until they are harder than the steel that encloses them."
America's future may well depend on whether we understand what is being said in this next paragraph:
"If you can conceive of a society (it is very difficult these days) that is more concerned with the creative potential of violent young men [and women] than with the threat they pose to the suburbs, then a few solutions for future prisons may be there. ... [Young minority persons] are drawn to crime as a positive experience -- because it is more exciting, more meaningful, more mysterious, more transcendental, more religious than any other experience they have known."
This is not to glorify crime or violence -- certainly not violence against women -- such violence is something which has always been impossible for me. No one is saying that crime is a positive experience. Mailer argues that if society dehumanizes men and women -- reducing one group to sexual organs and the other to a capacity for violence -- then decides to break them in pieces for displaying the very qualities demanded of them for survival, then you can be sure that a few of these men and women will prefer death to the surrender of their humanity. America's power-structure and legal system is hardly in a position to caution others about violence. (See "Michel Foucault, Gillian Rose, Angela Davis and the Hermeneutics of Prison.")
That choice between human dignity and torture is only forced on some persons in a society that is afflicted with a serious disease -- a disease called "racism" and social injustice, a disease opposed to the spirit of the U.S. Constitution, a disease against which we must struggle at all times. The fascism witnessed (in a small way) by Ms. Oates has been experienced in not so small ways by many of us for years. This includes a person I love.
"If the police officers hoped to provoke him into 'resisting arrest' so that they could beat him, or worse," Ms. Oates writes, "they must have been disappointed."
They would have beaten him, regardless of whether this African-American driver "resisted arrest," except for the affluent white woman heading home to Princeton. None of this will be on the bar exam, boys and girls. Nonsense concerning "ethics standards" imposed on officials will always be irrelevant to what happens behind-the-scenes in New Jersey. It is also irrelevant to the reality of disappearing funds from the Garden State's prison budgets:
"For the second time in two years, an audit has found that the [New Jersey] State Corrections Department failed to adequately monitor its multimillion dollar contract for inmate dental services. [A lot of inmates received expensive dental care (allegedly), but it seems to have disappeared when the inmates are examined.] In a report released yesterday, Inspector General Mary Jane Cooper concluded that the department could not guarantee that inmates were getting services that were paid for or that the state was not overpaying the contractor, Correctional Medical Services. [Terry Tuchin in "white man's country"?] Spokesmen for the Corrections Department and Correctional Medical Services said they could not comment."
New York Times, October 16, 2007, at p. B4. (Who are New Jersey's thieves and crooks again?)
Much of New Jersey law and adjudication is a transparent lie that some of us refuse to live. Perhaps this is because we are not "gentlemen." Every time I see young African-American children playing in the park or on the streets, I am reminded that one in three of them will end up in prison. Another of the three will be killed. Maybe one out of three will be permitted to struggle through life. The enormity of this horror and loss for all of us -- surgeons, artists, philosophers, scientists thrown away -- brings tears to my eyes. I will not be silenced. This may be the tenth time that I have corrected the same "errors" inserted in this essay. (See "What is it like to be tortured?") Overnight, several new "errors" were inserted in the foregoing paragraph. I have now corrected them, once again. How is the spacing in this essay?
To say this, that I weep for African-American children, is to open myself to the criticism -- usually from the same fascists tormenting that driver and, sadly, also many Latino men -- that I am not "manly" enough. I believe that a willingness to embrace painful emotions is what it means to be adults, for both men and women, who nevertheless refuse to sacrifice all capacity for laughter, play and hope for the sake of their children, those same children who are now so threatened.
"After what seemed like a very long time, they allowed the driver to return to the car and resume the drive back to Princeton."
Guess what happened next?
"I asked him what had been wrong, and he said that they'd claimed he had 'outstanding warrants' of some kind, but they were letting him go so that he could drive me home. Next morning, when I called the limousine service. I was told that the driver did not have 'outstanding warrants' and that he hadn't violated any law that anyone knew of."
Something of that man's spirit was left on a dark stretch of road that night. In the words of Amnesty International, a false death warrant issued to Mumia Abu-Jamal and many others, "is playing politics with a man's life" -- does this ring a bell, Richard J. Codey? Senator Bob? -- "The unnecessary infliction of suffering upon a prisoner by a government official constitutes torture." The Case of Mumia Abu-Jamal (New York: Seven Stories Press, 2000), p. 53.
Psychological torture is the daily experience of millions of African-American men and women, also of others in our throw-away culture. How do we live with this grotesque reality? Norman Mailer says:
"We do not live ... in a world that tries to solve its prison problems. Even to assume we do is utopian. The underlying horror may be that we all inhabit the swollen tissues of a body politic that is drenched in bad conscience, so bad indeed that the laugh of the hyena reverberates from every TV set, and is in danger of becoming our true national anthem. We are all so guilty at the way we have allowed the world around us to become more ugly and tasteless every year that we surrender to terror and steep ourselves in it. The mugger becomes the size of Golgotha and the middle class retires into walled cities [prisons?] with armed guards. Here, the prisons have wall-to-wall carpeting, and the guards address the inmates as 'Sir,' and bow. But they are prisons. The measure of the progressive imprisonment of all society is to be found at the base -- in the penitentiaries themselves. The bad conscience of society comes to focus in the burning lens of the penitentiary."
Think of Foucault and Davis as you read this paragraph:
"That is why we do not speak of improving the prisons -- which is to say, taking them through some mighty transmogrifications -- but only of fortifying law and order. But that is no more feasible than the dream of remission in the cancer patient. ... [W]e won't get law and order without a revolution in the prison system."
"An Ethics Syllabus," in The New York Times, October 14, 2007, New Jersey and the Region, at p. 21.
"Trenton: Corrections Department Criticized," in The New York Times, October 16, 2007, at p. B4.
Norman Mailer, "Introduction," In the Belly of the Beast (New York: Vintage, 1981), pp. ix-xvi.
Amnesty International, The Case of Mumia Abu-Jamal (New York: Seven Stories, 2000).
Spacing has been affected in this essay and new obstacles as well as "errors" inserted in the text are always anticipated. More harassing phone calls on October 15, 2007 at 11:32 A.M. from 520-124-6246. As of 9:24 P.M. I am unable to access MSN and have been prevented from posting at blogger for hours. I will keep trying. My book is still not being distributed to book sellers. On October 17, 2007 at 6:58 P.M. more annoying calls from 305-375-7280. Florida. CANF? For some reason, my print-out of this essay -- at page three -- is without a page number or an address at the bottom of the page. I wonder why? I am blocking:
http://m1.2mdn.net/viewad/1B2188119-default_1x1.gif (illegal tracking?)
http://ad.N2434.doubleclick,net/a/N2434.msn/B2...
On October 18, 2007 at 9:25 A.M. I was unable to print items from my MSN group. I received only a blank page bearing this address:
http://view.atdmt.com/iview/msnnkhac001728x90xWBCBRB00110msn/direct;wi.728;hi.90/01
On October 21, 2007 at 10:30 A.M. I am unable to print items receiving only a blank page with this address at the top left corner: ngc_728_ihm_initial_SA and at the bottom of the page is this address:
http://view.atdmt.com/MSI/iview/scntcngc0210000048msi/direct/01?click= (National Security Agency? NGC?)
October 23, 2007 at 11:34 A.M. 301-392-8254. I am blocking:
http://view.atdmt.com/iview/msnnkhac001728x90... (Spacing problems continue.)
Access to my MSN account is still being blocked by hackers mysteriously using N.J. government computers. I have decided to spend some time this morning not posting a revised version of my essay on "America's Holocaust," since that is impossible at this time, but discussing once again the sad and ugly spectacle of corruption, malice, racism and hypocrisy among New Jersey's judges and police officials. (Numerous "errors" have been inserted in this text, even in draft form, so I will correct them. I fully anticipate that I will need to do so again in the future.)
"... I was being driven back from a literary event in New York to my home in Princeton," Joyce Carol Oates writes, "by a black driver for a well-known limousine service. At about 11 p.m., somewhere on the turnpike between Newark and New Brunswick, New Jersey state troopers signaled for my driver to pull over. They subjected him to approximately 40 minutes of harsh and repetitive interrogation ('What's your name?' 'Where do you live?' 'Where are you headed?' and so on) for no evident reason."
The reason was skin color. In a similar way, numerous harassment efforts are directed at websites with my writings, from behind the scenes probably, any prospective publishers or opportunities that come my way will be destroyed (if New Jersey authorities, I believe, become aware of them), obstructions to writing efforts on-line, hundreds and even thousands of viruses, illegal spyware, other attacks against my system are routine. These efforts have persisted and will go on for much longer than forty minutes -- for years, in fact, as a kind of "ass covering efffort" to discourage continued criticisms of the Garden State's torture practices, together with denying, ignoring or stonewalling in response to effforts to obtain Tuchin's and Riccioli's secretly prepared and filed reports, along with the truth concerning my life. How many others are tortured and raped, in every sense, by New Jersey authorities we may never know. (See "Even in New Jersey There Comes a Time When Silence is Betrayal.")
"There were two white troopers who demanded to see the driver's and my identification" -- the troopers had no legal right to demand the passenger's identification -- "forced the driver to get out of the car and subjected him to questioning with increased belligerence."
Had Ms. Oates not been a passenger and witness, it is highly likely that her driver would have been struck or severely beaten, then charged with "resisting arrest" and accused of failing to use a turn signal or not wearing a seat belt, or the old stand-by: "warrants for parking tickets." These warrants can be generated any time by friends at headquarters, then shrugged off as a good faith mistake. In the same way, police in some New Jersey cities have illegal guns handy to plant on African-Americans murdered "by mistake" in order to make things look good -- allegedly. I would not be surprised if something similar turns out to have happened in Mumia Abu-Jamal's case. No wonder they want to discourage me from writing. They are concerned about people reading these truths. They should be.
"I was not allowed to know what was going on, and when after about 10 minutes I made a tentative gesture to open the car door, the troopers yelled at me, 'Stay in the car lady!' They then walked the driver about 20 feet away from the limousine, to continue to interrogate or harass him out of earshot."
The troopers will say that persons are kept in their vehicle to protect officers from passengers who will fire at them. This is true, as far as it goes, but the real reason in most instances where troopers know that there is no real danger is to isolate and increase anxiety on their victims-"suspects" (who are inevitably African-Americans). Also, the goal was no doubt to create problems for the driver with his client and employer, since passengers tend not to enjoy being kept waiting for nearly an hour for no reason or being treated like a felon, also for no reason. (A new "error" that is not found in my printed version of this essay was just inserted in the text.) Curiously, torture and rape are even more distressing for victims, regardless of whether these things are said to be for the victim's "own good." (See "Terry Tuchin, Diana Lisa Riccioli, and New Jersey's Agency of Torture" and "What is it like to be tortured?")
"I called my husband on my cellphone to explain that I was going to be late returning home, as it looked as if my driver was being 'arrested' for some reason."
For no reason other than race.
"(As the minutes passed, it occurred to me to dial 911 and report this incident, but, with my instinct for irony, I guessed that the police officers who would be notified about the incident would be these very New Jersey state troopers, which would have made them even more angry and belligerent.)"
What they want is homage. They want you to bow, humiliate yourself, grant their superiority and god-like status, then they'll let the average innocent person go. This is something that one might manage on a single occasion -- without being too proud of it -- but unless a man has lost all semblance of dignity and self-esteem, pride is not something that will be surrendered for long and much less for a lifetime.
The unpardonable sin which places some African-American men and women as well as "others" in U.S. prisons -- or even leads to the gas chamber in some cases -- is an unwillingness to accept slavery. To insist on one's human rights and dignity, over a period of years, despite hypnosis, psychological torture, and professional destruction may well constitute a capital offense for minority persons in New Jersey.
"Fortunately for both of us the driver was unfailingly courteous, soft-spoken and obedient. Perhaps he'd been pulled over by New Jersey state troopers before."
Very likely. Such a surrender of a man's dignity, over a period of years will reach the point at which he has no more pride to give, for he has been made into nothing, something sub-human. African-American women understand what has been done to their husbands, fathers, sons in ways that most white women do not. Hence, they have a different measure by which to judge conduct that is incomprehensible for those who cannot imagine such experiences over a lifetime.
They will be repeated -- these rituals of humiliation -- preferably with the assistance of sold out minority persons. There are minorities so broken on this wheel of power that they become its servants at the expense of their brothers and sisters. I have seen homeless men opening doors and performing in public, a kind of hideous caricature-dance of racist stereotypes into which they have been transfomed, like marionettes begging for coins, like the "things" that they have been made into. Some people will die before they accept such a role. Anything that breaks a human being's psyche in such a manner is evil. (More "errors" inserted and corrected.)
You are witnessing daily efforts to destroy these writings (and this writer) for saying unsayable things in America, also for refusing to accept or legitimate, crimes against humanity committed against him and others in New Jersey. I am running my scans. I will persist in the struggle to speak this truth to corrupt officials in New Jersey and the world. Is it possible for you to remain silent and indifferent to what you are seeing?
"There is a paradox at the core of penology," Norman Mailer writes, "and from it derives the thousand ills and afflictions of the prison system. It is that not only the worst of the young are sent to prison, but the best -- that is, the proudest, the bravest, the most daring, the most enterprising, and the most undefeated of the poor. There starts the horror. ... prison is equipped to grind down criminals who are cowards into social submission, but can only break the spirit of brave men [and women] who are criminals, or anneal them until they are harder than the steel that encloses them."
America's future may well depend on whether we understand what is being said in this next paragraph:
"If you can conceive of a society (it is very difficult these days) that is more concerned with the creative potential of violent young men [and women] than with the threat they pose to the suburbs, then a few solutions for future prisons may be there. ... [Young minority persons] are drawn to crime as a positive experience -- because it is more exciting, more meaningful, more mysterious, more transcendental, more religious than any other experience they have known."
This is not to glorify crime or violence -- certainly not violence against women -- such violence is something which has always been impossible for me. No one is saying that crime is a positive experience. Mailer argues that if society dehumanizes men and women -- reducing one group to sexual organs and the other to a capacity for violence -- then decides to break them in pieces for displaying the very qualities demanded of them for survival, then you can be sure that a few of these men and women will prefer death to the surrender of their humanity. America's power-structure and legal system is hardly in a position to caution others about violence. (See "Michel Foucault, Gillian Rose, Angela Davis and the Hermeneutics of Prison.")
That choice between human dignity and torture is only forced on some persons in a society that is afflicted with a serious disease -- a disease called "racism" and social injustice, a disease opposed to the spirit of the U.S. Constitution, a disease against which we must struggle at all times. The fascism witnessed (in a small way) by Ms. Oates has been experienced in not so small ways by many of us for years. This includes a person I love.
"If the police officers hoped to provoke him into 'resisting arrest' so that they could beat him, or worse," Ms. Oates writes, "they must have been disappointed."
They would have beaten him, regardless of whether this African-American driver "resisted arrest," except for the affluent white woman heading home to Princeton. None of this will be on the bar exam, boys and girls. Nonsense concerning "ethics standards" imposed on officials will always be irrelevant to what happens behind-the-scenes in New Jersey. It is also irrelevant to the reality of disappearing funds from the Garden State's prison budgets:
"For the second time in two years, an audit has found that the [New Jersey] State Corrections Department failed to adequately monitor its multimillion dollar contract for inmate dental services. [A lot of inmates received expensive dental care (allegedly), but it seems to have disappeared when the inmates are examined.] In a report released yesterday, Inspector General Mary Jane Cooper concluded that the department could not guarantee that inmates were getting services that were paid for or that the state was not overpaying the contractor, Correctional Medical Services. [Terry Tuchin in "white man's country"?] Spokesmen for the Corrections Department and Correctional Medical Services said they could not comment."
New York Times, October 16, 2007, at p. B4. (Who are New Jersey's thieves and crooks again?)
Much of New Jersey law and adjudication is a transparent lie that some of us refuse to live. Perhaps this is because we are not "gentlemen." Every time I see young African-American children playing in the park or on the streets, I am reminded that one in three of them will end up in prison. Another of the three will be killed. Maybe one out of three will be permitted to struggle through life. The enormity of this horror and loss for all of us -- surgeons, artists, philosophers, scientists thrown away -- brings tears to my eyes. I will not be silenced. This may be the tenth time that I have corrected the same "errors" inserted in this essay. (See "What is it like to be tortured?") Overnight, several new "errors" were inserted in the foregoing paragraph. I have now corrected them, once again. How is the spacing in this essay?
To say this, that I weep for African-American children, is to open myself to the criticism -- usually from the same fascists tormenting that driver and, sadly, also many Latino men -- that I am not "manly" enough. I believe that a willingness to embrace painful emotions is what it means to be adults, for both men and women, who nevertheless refuse to sacrifice all capacity for laughter, play and hope for the sake of their children, those same children who are now so threatened.
"After what seemed like a very long time, they allowed the driver to return to the car and resume the drive back to Princeton."
Guess what happened next?
"I asked him what had been wrong, and he said that they'd claimed he had 'outstanding warrants' of some kind, but they were letting him go so that he could drive me home. Next morning, when I called the limousine service. I was told that the driver did not have 'outstanding warrants' and that he hadn't violated any law that anyone knew of."
Something of that man's spirit was left on a dark stretch of road that night. In the words of Amnesty International, a false death warrant issued to Mumia Abu-Jamal and many others, "is playing politics with a man's life" -- does this ring a bell, Richard J. Codey? Senator Bob? -- "The unnecessary infliction of suffering upon a prisoner by a government official constitutes torture." The Case of Mumia Abu-Jamal (New York: Seven Stories Press, 2000), p. 53.
Psychological torture is the daily experience of millions of African-American men and women, also of others in our throw-away culture. How do we live with this grotesque reality? Norman Mailer says:
"We do not live ... in a world that tries to solve its prison problems. Even to assume we do is utopian. The underlying horror may be that we all inhabit the swollen tissues of a body politic that is drenched in bad conscience, so bad indeed that the laugh of the hyena reverberates from every TV set, and is in danger of becoming our true national anthem. We are all so guilty at the way we have allowed the world around us to become more ugly and tasteless every year that we surrender to terror and steep ourselves in it. The mugger becomes the size of Golgotha and the middle class retires into walled cities [prisons?] with armed guards. Here, the prisons have wall-to-wall carpeting, and the guards address the inmates as 'Sir,' and bow. But they are prisons. The measure of the progressive imprisonment of all society is to be found at the base -- in the penitentiaries themselves. The bad conscience of society comes to focus in the burning lens of the penitentiary."
Think of Foucault and Davis as you read this paragraph:
"That is why we do not speak of improving the prisons -- which is to say, taking them through some mighty transmogrifications -- but only of fortifying law and order. But that is no more feasible than the dream of remission in the cancer patient. ... [W]e won't get law and order without a revolution in the prison system."
Thursday, October 11, 2007
More Crooked Judges and Fixed Cases in New Jersey.
Jonathan Miller, "In Parking-Pinched Jersey City, Four Judges Are Suspected of Fixing Tickets," in The New York Times, October 10, 2007, at p. B1.
Jonathan Miller, "Jersey City: Another Judge Steps Down," in The New York Times, October 11, 2007, at p. B6.
Jonathan Miller, "Judges on Other Side of the Bench Plead Not Guilty," in The New York Times, November 2, 2007, at p. B4.
Spacing will be affected, letters will be deleted, harassment and further obstacles to communication must be expected from New Jersey's FECES-SMEARED TRIBUNALS AND THE JUDICIAL WHORES FOUND IN THEM, LIKE VERMIN IN GARBAGE DUMPS. Let's dump on them! Notice that my essay on the Jena 6 case has been particularly infuriating to the Jersey Boys. Swastikas?
October 13, 2007 at 10:45 A.M. I am blocking:
http://view.atdmt.com/iview/msnnkhac001300x250... (N.J. Hackers/Senator Bob's people?)
October 15, 2007 at 10:46 A.M. several attempts to post a revised version of my essay on the Jena 6 case have been obstructed and navigating at my MSN group is impossible. I will try throughout the day to post that revised essay. Unfortunately, this will delay or obstruct other projects. These frustration tactics and harassment efforts help me to persist in my struggle. See "What is it like to be tortured?"
"JERSEY CITY, Oct. 9 -- Four of the city's 10 municipal court judges -- including the former chief judge -- are being investigated by the New Jersey attorney general's office on suspicion of fixing parking tickets for friends or family, and in at least one case for a colleague on the bench, officials here say." (How is the spacing in this essay?)
What else is new? Judges in New Jersey's municipal courts are well-known to "fix" not only tickets, but many of the small criminal matters that routinely come before them -- such as assaults, thefts, drug possession cases and so on. These judges are political animals routinely pressured to "decide" cases one way or another. I recall one municipal judge -- not in Jersey City -- saying that he was "under a lot of pressure" to find a particular defendant guilty. This was while the case was pending before him and well before all of the evidence had been submitted for consideration. Half the battle in New Jersey legal practice is figuring out what's really going on behind the scenes, which criminal conspiracy is affecting your case.
One attorney was "asked," she claimed, by the municipal judge in town to question another attorney's clients to see whether she might take them away from that so-called "colleague" at the time and (probably) split the money with the judge. Prohibitions against breaching confidentiality and other ethics rules, as well as legal violations, were set aside. You ever heard of confidentiality, Terry? How about conflict of interest? Who cares about the Constitution or fiduciary relations? Not New Jersey's judges. The only evidence that matters in New Jersey's "legally-pinched" court proceedings is a phone call from a political "boss" to the local judge telling him or her: "We want to get this guy!"
What happened to the independence of the judiciary? For some reason, I think I know what that must be like for the victim. Judges are told to "take care" of friends of local political "officials" or to "take care of the mayor's people." You can be sure that, if they want to be reappointed (and get the medical benefits and pension that goes with the robes), they'll "go along to get along." These are the Brandeis-like legal geniuses deciding on the ethics of attorneys designated for destruction by their whore-masters in Trenton. "It cost me $25,000 in cash to get this judgeship, you think I'm going to make waves?" Nah ...
New Jersey attorney Gerald Krovatin, who represents Ms. Molina, "said that the state attorney general Anne Milgram, had unfairly singled out the judges." In Krovatin's words:
"If there is a systemwide problem with the practice of 'courtesy dismissals' of ... summonses -- in Jersey City and other municipalities in the state -- it ought to be addressed with a systemwide solution. ..."
The message sent between the lines in this text is that every municipal court in the state routinely dismisses charges against members of the club. Worse happens in the Garden State's bemerded Superior Court. Right, Maurice? So who cares about Jersey City? The Camden Machine does, since Menendez is on his way to Danberry Federal Penitentiary, probably, and the powers that be want to flex their muscles. Geez. This lawyer is saying to the capo di tutti capi, the political brass in Trenton: "Do you really want to open this can of worms? Why not forget about it?" After all, it's not like the New Jersey attorney general is a federal prosecutor or a real law enforcement officer anyway. Who cares? Trenton doesn't.
I am experiencing an attack on my computer and obstructions to my writing efforts as I type these words. Numerous essays have been defaced overnight, probably, and will be again. I will continue to make the same corrections as often as necessary. I wonder why the Jersey Boys are upset? They should have their friends in the newspapers put out good news. Right, Jay? How about mafia-inspired attacks against Chris Christie?
"During the past month, the chief judge has resigned and the three other judges have taken leaves of absence. In addition, the chief justice of the state Supreme Court, STUART RABNER, has assigned the day-to-day operations of the court to a Superior Court judge from Hudson County."
What a relief, huh? This just means that the bribes will be more expensive. The state attorney general Anne Milgram -- who, allegedly, enjoys M-TV's "Open House" -- is looking into this typical situation in Jersey City, most likely because the Camden Machine wants to embarass Mayor Healy and promises to deliver a judgeship to Anne (I wouldn't trust them, Anne) if she causes a little ruckus in Hudson County. Anne obviously wants to get herself a Superior Court judgeship. Has she ever tried a case anywhere? Apparently not. What the hell. Don't worry, Anne, it's just like on t.v.!
"Hey, wadda-ya gonna do? Judges gotta make a living too. Have a fruit basket. We'll make Cheech the next municipal judge."
Nothing surprises me when it comes to New Jersey's mob-infested legal profession and tainted tribunals. Debbie is happy if they line up some "chics" for her. Stuart likes to "chat" with Anne Milgram. Everything is coming up roses. Is a Superior Court judgeship still $20 to $25 thousand in "contributions" (plus, you may have to fix the "four way check," which goes for another $15 thou), right boys and girls?
"In a state regularly buffeted by the indictments and convictions of public officials, the trial court administrator here, Joseph F. Davis" -- Little Joe! -- "added an ominous note."
All of New Jersey is an ominous note. The place is a disgusting, overflowing toilet of corruption.
"People are concerned with what they're seeing ..."
This is a man of wisdom. No shit, Little Joe?
"According to officials here, the judges being investigated include Chief Judge Wanda Molina" -- who was an o.k. prosecutor -- "Pauline E. Sica, Irwin Rosen and Victor G. Sison, who took unpaid leaves."
You will find the same behavior in most Hudson County municipal courts, whose personnel will lie about this well-known reality. Ethics? These are the same people serving on the county ethics committees, which are even more political entities and far more corrupt. Go ahead, tell me how superior you "judges" are to mere mortals. Do not trust any New Jersey judge or tribunal. Do not go to the authorities in New Jersey with allegations of corruption in the political and legal system. Go to the federal government or U.S. Attorney for New Jersey, CHRISTOPHER J. CHRISTIE in Newark.
"According to officials, Ms. Molina is suspected of trying to have numerous tickets dismissed that had been issued to a companion while she was chief judge. Judge Sica is suspected of using her influence to seek the dismissal of a ticket issued to a judicial colleague. Judge Rosen is suspected of dismissing a ticket that had been issued to himself."
He found himself "not guilty." The biggest joke concerns who has been asked to restore "integrity" to this farce. The "Honorable" MAURICE J. GALLIPOLI (these guys and gals like to see their names in caps -- except when they're indicted!) of Hudson County is overseeing the Municipal Court in Jersey City. All the "rug merchants" better watch out. (See "Maurice J. Gallipoli and Conduct Unbecoming to the Judiciary in New Jersey.")
Many of the people writing tickets are alleged to sit in a diner not far from Journal Square with a list of license plates targeted for harassment by the Jersey Boys, writing tickets for unseen parking offenses. Badda-bing, badda-boom. "The Boss says we gotta get that lawyer!" Is that right, guys? This was always a Union City specialty, right Bob? Harass an enemy with tickets.
Maurice has already achieved spectacular results with the Superior Court, so anything's possible at the municipal level. More judges are resigning after allegations of fraud and theft from what is laughingly known as "the judicial bench" in New Jersey. This is only the beginning:
"A fifth Municipal Court judge in Jersey City has left office in the midst of state investigation into ticket fixing in the city, the mayor's office said yesterday. The judge, Vincent A. Signorile" -- Vinnie "the Shark"! -- "a former city councilman, informed the court yesterday that he was taking an unpaid leave of absence. A spokeswoman for Mayor Jeremiah T. Healy said the leave was connected to the investigation. One other judge has resigned, three judges have taken leaves, a court worker has resigned and another has been suspended. The state assumed control of the court this month. The mayor appointed replacements for the judges yesterday, and they are expected to be sworn in today."
Hey, the Jersey Boys put in another "error" while I was away. That's great! It means I'm getting to them. Keep your eyes on this post and let's see what they try next. 50% of the Municipal Court Judges in Jersey City are corrupt, apparently, and that figure is an understatement (hey, they did it again!) -- it is also typical of what goes on throughout the state. In my opinion, things are worse at the Superior Court level.
This is nothing compared to the blatant criminality just under the surface of New Jersey's legal laugh track at the state's disgraced Supreme Court. Where's the OAE? Where's good old Stuart? Still waiting for instructions from the Boys in black shirts and white ties, Stu? Where art thou, Stu? He's "demurring" -- with or without Anne? Hey, isn't Anne Milgram a Dyke? Whatta ya gonna do? That's Jersey for ya!
Jonathan Miller, "Jersey City: Another Judge Steps Down," in The New York Times, October 11, 2007, at p. B6.
Jonathan Miller, "Judges on Other Side of the Bench Plead Not Guilty," in The New York Times, November 2, 2007, at p. B4.
Spacing will be affected, letters will be deleted, harassment and further obstacles to communication must be expected from New Jersey's FECES-SMEARED TRIBUNALS AND THE JUDICIAL WHORES FOUND IN THEM, LIKE VERMIN IN GARBAGE DUMPS. Let's dump on them! Notice that my essay on the Jena 6 case has been particularly infuriating to the Jersey Boys. Swastikas?
October 13, 2007 at 10:45 A.M. I am blocking:
http://view.atdmt.com/iview/msnnkhac001300x250... (N.J. Hackers/Senator Bob's people?)
October 15, 2007 at 10:46 A.M. several attempts to post a revised version of my essay on the Jena 6 case have been obstructed and navigating at my MSN group is impossible. I will try throughout the day to post that revised essay. Unfortunately, this will delay or obstruct other projects. These frustration tactics and harassment efforts help me to persist in my struggle. See "What is it like to be tortured?"
"JERSEY CITY, Oct. 9 -- Four of the city's 10 municipal court judges -- including the former chief judge -- are being investigated by the New Jersey attorney general's office on suspicion of fixing parking tickets for friends or family, and in at least one case for a colleague on the bench, officials here say." (How is the spacing in this essay?)
What else is new? Judges in New Jersey's municipal courts are well-known to "fix" not only tickets, but many of the small criminal matters that routinely come before them -- such as assaults, thefts, drug possession cases and so on. These judges are political animals routinely pressured to "decide" cases one way or another. I recall one municipal judge -- not in Jersey City -- saying that he was "under a lot of pressure" to find a particular defendant guilty. This was while the case was pending before him and well before all of the evidence had been submitted for consideration. Half the battle in New Jersey legal practice is figuring out what's really going on behind the scenes, which criminal conspiracy is affecting your case.
One attorney was "asked," she claimed, by the municipal judge in town to question another attorney's clients to see whether she might take them away from that so-called "colleague" at the time and (probably) split the money with the judge. Prohibitions against breaching confidentiality and other ethics rules, as well as legal violations, were set aside. You ever heard of confidentiality, Terry? How about conflict of interest? Who cares about the Constitution or fiduciary relations? Not New Jersey's judges. The only evidence that matters in New Jersey's "legally-pinched" court proceedings is a phone call from a political "boss" to the local judge telling him or her: "We want to get this guy!"
What happened to the independence of the judiciary? For some reason, I think I know what that must be like for the victim. Judges are told to "take care" of friends of local political "officials" or to "take care of the mayor's people." You can be sure that, if they want to be reappointed (and get the medical benefits and pension that goes with the robes), they'll "go along to get along." These are the Brandeis-like legal geniuses deciding on the ethics of attorneys designated for destruction by their whore-masters in Trenton. "It cost me $25,000 in cash to get this judgeship, you think I'm going to make waves?" Nah ...
New Jersey attorney Gerald Krovatin, who represents Ms. Molina, "said that the state attorney general Anne Milgram, had unfairly singled out the judges." In Krovatin's words:
"If there is a systemwide problem with the practice of 'courtesy dismissals' of ... summonses -- in Jersey City and other municipalities in the state -- it ought to be addressed with a systemwide solution. ..."
The message sent between the lines in this text is that every municipal court in the state routinely dismisses charges against members of the club. Worse happens in the Garden State's bemerded Superior Court. Right, Maurice? So who cares about Jersey City? The Camden Machine does, since Menendez is on his way to Danberry Federal Penitentiary, probably, and the powers that be want to flex their muscles. Geez. This lawyer is saying to the capo di tutti capi, the political brass in Trenton: "Do you really want to open this can of worms? Why not forget about it?" After all, it's not like the New Jersey attorney general is a federal prosecutor or a real law enforcement officer anyway. Who cares? Trenton doesn't.
I am experiencing an attack on my computer and obstructions to my writing efforts as I type these words. Numerous essays have been defaced overnight, probably, and will be again. I will continue to make the same corrections as often as necessary. I wonder why the Jersey Boys are upset? They should have their friends in the newspapers put out good news. Right, Jay? How about mafia-inspired attacks against Chris Christie?
"During the past month, the chief judge has resigned and the three other judges have taken leaves of absence. In addition, the chief justice of the state Supreme Court, STUART RABNER, has assigned the day-to-day operations of the court to a Superior Court judge from Hudson County."
What a relief, huh? This just means that the bribes will be more expensive. The state attorney general Anne Milgram -- who, allegedly, enjoys M-TV's "Open House" -- is looking into this typical situation in Jersey City, most likely because the Camden Machine wants to embarass Mayor Healy and promises to deliver a judgeship to Anne (I wouldn't trust them, Anne) if she causes a little ruckus in Hudson County. Anne obviously wants to get herself a Superior Court judgeship. Has she ever tried a case anywhere? Apparently not. What the hell. Don't worry, Anne, it's just like on t.v.!
"Hey, wadda-ya gonna do? Judges gotta make a living too. Have a fruit basket. We'll make Cheech the next municipal judge."
Nothing surprises me when it comes to New Jersey's mob-infested legal profession and tainted tribunals. Debbie is happy if they line up some "chics" for her. Stuart likes to "chat" with Anne Milgram. Everything is coming up roses. Is a Superior Court judgeship still $20 to $25 thousand in "contributions" (plus, you may have to fix the "four way check," which goes for another $15 thou), right boys and girls?
"In a state regularly buffeted by the indictments and convictions of public officials, the trial court administrator here, Joseph F. Davis" -- Little Joe! -- "added an ominous note."
All of New Jersey is an ominous note. The place is a disgusting, overflowing toilet of corruption.
"People are concerned with what they're seeing ..."
This is a man of wisdom. No shit, Little Joe?
"According to officials here, the judges being investigated include Chief Judge Wanda Molina" -- who was an o.k. prosecutor -- "Pauline E. Sica, Irwin Rosen and Victor G. Sison, who took unpaid leaves."
You will find the same behavior in most Hudson County municipal courts, whose personnel will lie about this well-known reality. Ethics? These are the same people serving on the county ethics committees, which are even more political entities and far more corrupt. Go ahead, tell me how superior you "judges" are to mere mortals. Do not trust any New Jersey judge or tribunal. Do not go to the authorities in New Jersey with allegations of corruption in the political and legal system. Go to the federal government or U.S. Attorney for New Jersey, CHRISTOPHER J. CHRISTIE in Newark.
"According to officials, Ms. Molina is suspected of trying to have numerous tickets dismissed that had been issued to a companion while she was chief judge. Judge Sica is suspected of using her influence to seek the dismissal of a ticket issued to a judicial colleague. Judge Rosen is suspected of dismissing a ticket that had been issued to himself."
He found himself "not guilty." The biggest joke concerns who has been asked to restore "integrity" to this farce. The "Honorable" MAURICE J. GALLIPOLI (these guys and gals like to see their names in caps -- except when they're indicted!) of Hudson County is overseeing the Municipal Court in Jersey City. All the "rug merchants" better watch out. (See "Maurice J. Gallipoli and Conduct Unbecoming to the Judiciary in New Jersey.")
Many of the people writing tickets are alleged to sit in a diner not far from Journal Square with a list of license plates targeted for harassment by the Jersey Boys, writing tickets for unseen parking offenses. Badda-bing, badda-boom. "The Boss says we gotta get that lawyer!" Is that right, guys? This was always a Union City specialty, right Bob? Harass an enemy with tickets.
Maurice has already achieved spectacular results with the Superior Court, so anything's possible at the municipal level. More judges are resigning after allegations of fraud and theft from what is laughingly known as "the judicial bench" in New Jersey. This is only the beginning:
"A fifth Municipal Court judge in Jersey City has left office in the midst of state investigation into ticket fixing in the city, the mayor's office said yesterday. The judge, Vincent A. Signorile" -- Vinnie "the Shark"! -- "a former city councilman, informed the court yesterday that he was taking an unpaid leave of absence. A spokeswoman for Mayor Jeremiah T. Healy said the leave was connected to the investigation. One other judge has resigned, three judges have taken leaves, a court worker has resigned and another has been suspended. The state assumed control of the court this month. The mayor appointed replacements for the judges yesterday, and they are expected to be sworn in today."
Hey, the Jersey Boys put in another "error" while I was away. That's great! It means I'm getting to them. Keep your eyes on this post and let's see what they try next. 50% of the Municipal Court Judges in Jersey City are corrupt, apparently, and that figure is an understatement (hey, they did it again!) -- it is also typical of what goes on throughout the state. In my opinion, things are worse at the Superior Court level.
This is nothing compared to the blatant criminality just under the surface of New Jersey's legal laugh track at the state's disgraced Supreme Court. Where's the OAE? Where's good old Stuart? Still waiting for instructions from the Boys in black shirts and white ties, Stu? Where art thou, Stu? He's "demurring" -- with or without Anne? Hey, isn't Anne Milgram a Dyke? Whatta ya gonna do? That's Jersey for ya!
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Atlantic City Casinos, New Jersey Judges and Politicians, and the Mob.
October 9, 2007 at 4:41 P.M. a new attack against my computer requires me to run scans. I will keep trying to get back to these sites and to make corrections as often as "errors" are inserted in these essays. (At 9:44 P.M. an "error" was inserted even in this introductory statement.) The obstacles to using my computer are very great, writing may be impossible for now, new "errors" will be inserted repeatedly. I will struggle against these familiar experiences to communicate. (Please see "What is it like to be tortured?") I am unable to access my MSN account. I will continue to try to do so. October 10, 2007 at 4:41 P.M. I am blocking:
http://ad.doubleclick.net/ad/N296.MSN/B2385667...
http://m1.2mdn.net/viewad/1499378/1x1tracking... (criminal violation)
Rumors of an investigation involving not only Jersey City, but other Hudson Municipal Court judges and officials for fixing tickets and minor criminal summonses provoke laughter (what else is new?), together with the alleged real motive for New Jersey Attorney General Anne Milgram's actions in focusing only on 4 Jersey City judges who are under investigation -- Milgram is said to be under pressure from the Camden Machine to embarass Mayor Healy, an enemy of the South Jersey Democrats, in exchange for a judgeship for Anne down the road. Cash? Rumors are flying.
Gallipoli and Venable "supervising" the municipal courts is even more of a joke. The move to have those two "ensure the integrity of courts" that have no integrity has been greeted by laughter on the street. They can't even flush the legal toilet that is New Jersey. Go ahead, take out a letter from what I've written, obstruct my access to my sites. I will keep fighting to write again tomorrow.
How about some more illegal tracking software, Anne? You sure are "gentlemen" in Hudson County. Frame ups? Threats? (See "Maurice J. Gallipoli and Conduct Unbecoming to the Judiciary in New Jersey.")
Wait till you see what (I believe) is coming on the federal front. How you doing, Senator Bob?
Richard G. Jones, "Some More Trouble in a Troubled Town: Atlantic City's Mayor Has Disappeared," in The New York Times, October 6, 2007, at p. B3.
"ATLANTIC CITY, Oct. 5 -- This long suffering city is no stranger to scandal. After all, in the past 40 years, five mayors have either pleaded guilty or been convicted of one bit of criminal malfeasance or another. But few episodes, even by the three-ring standards here, could match the latest act of political theater."
"A week ago, the mayor of this carnival-like town, Robert W. Levy, 64, abruptly stopped showing up at City Hall, and his aides issued a cryptic one sentence news release saying he was temporarily stepping aside to deal with medical matters. He has not been seen in public since, and in that vacuum all sorts of explanations have flourished."
"Whatever made him disappear and hand the reins of government to the city's business administrator, he has a lot more to deal with."
"For one thing there have been reports that the United States attorney for New Jersey is investigating whether Mayor Levy falsified his military record to improperly increase his military pension. Some City Council members are clamoring for the council president to run the city, leading Gov. Jon S. Corzine to say he would ask the state attorney general to look into the question of succession."
"... Speculation and inuendo have been rampant over why the mayor simply dropped from sight. Mr. Levy's lawyer, Edwin J. Jacobs, told the city last week that he had checked into a hospital, but he refused to say where or for how long."
"... To veteran observers of politics in his city where drug-infested neighborhoods are still waiting for the full benefits of the $16 million-a-day casino industry, the episode seems sadly familiar."
"... In recent weeks it was reported that the United States attorney for New Jersey, Christopher J. Christie, was investigating whether Mr. Levy has improperly collected pension payments by claiming that he served in the Special Forces. According to the news accounts, the designation would entitle him to an additional $25,000 in military benefits."
A former West New York mayor was well-known to receive a cut from every illegal gambling machine in the city. The proceeds were collected by the police, in uniforms, every Friday -- allegedly. The former police chief did time for these and other "shenanigans." Most of north Jersey was an illegal drug superhighway to New York city. Cops would wave to the drug mules from Florida as they passed by on their way to the Big Apple. Fortunately, organized crime provided work for young men in the area, reminding them to stay in school and be civic mined between their little jaunts of criminality. Many organized crime figures, allegedly, doubled as elected officials.
Some things never change. Right, Senator Bob? "Let's get tough on crime!"
http://ad.doubleclick.net/ad/N296.MSN/B2385667...
http://m1.2mdn.net/viewad/1499378/1x1tracking... (criminal violation)
Rumors of an investigation involving not only Jersey City, but other Hudson Municipal Court judges and officials for fixing tickets and minor criminal summonses provoke laughter (what else is new?), together with the alleged real motive for New Jersey Attorney General Anne Milgram's actions in focusing only on 4 Jersey City judges who are under investigation -- Milgram is said to be under pressure from the Camden Machine to embarass Mayor Healy, an enemy of the South Jersey Democrats, in exchange for a judgeship for Anne down the road. Cash? Rumors are flying.
Gallipoli and Venable "supervising" the municipal courts is even more of a joke. The move to have those two "ensure the integrity of courts" that have no integrity has been greeted by laughter on the street. They can't even flush the legal toilet that is New Jersey. Go ahead, take out a letter from what I've written, obstruct my access to my sites. I will keep fighting to write again tomorrow.
How about some more illegal tracking software, Anne? You sure are "gentlemen" in Hudson County. Frame ups? Threats? (See "Maurice J. Gallipoli and Conduct Unbecoming to the Judiciary in New Jersey.")
Wait till you see what (I believe) is coming on the federal front. How you doing, Senator Bob?
Richard G. Jones, "Some More Trouble in a Troubled Town: Atlantic City's Mayor Has Disappeared," in The New York Times, October 6, 2007, at p. B3.
"ATLANTIC CITY, Oct. 5 -- This long suffering city is no stranger to scandal. After all, in the past 40 years, five mayors have either pleaded guilty or been convicted of one bit of criminal malfeasance or another. But few episodes, even by the three-ring standards here, could match the latest act of political theater."
"A week ago, the mayor of this carnival-like town, Robert W. Levy, 64, abruptly stopped showing up at City Hall, and his aides issued a cryptic one sentence news release saying he was temporarily stepping aside to deal with medical matters. He has not been seen in public since, and in that vacuum all sorts of explanations have flourished."
"Whatever made him disappear and hand the reins of government to the city's business administrator, he has a lot more to deal with."
"For one thing there have been reports that the United States attorney for New Jersey is investigating whether Mayor Levy falsified his military record to improperly increase his military pension. Some City Council members are clamoring for the council president to run the city, leading Gov. Jon S. Corzine to say he would ask the state attorney general to look into the question of succession."
"... Speculation and inuendo have been rampant over why the mayor simply dropped from sight. Mr. Levy's lawyer, Edwin J. Jacobs, told the city last week that he had checked into a hospital, but he refused to say where or for how long."
"... To veteran observers of politics in his city where drug-infested neighborhoods are still waiting for the full benefits of the $16 million-a-day casino industry, the episode seems sadly familiar."
"... In recent weeks it was reported that the United States attorney for New Jersey, Christopher J. Christie, was investigating whether Mr. Levy has improperly collected pension payments by claiming that he served in the Special Forces. According to the news accounts, the designation would entitle him to an additional $25,000 in military benefits."
A former West New York mayor was well-known to receive a cut from every illegal gambling machine in the city. The proceeds were collected by the police, in uniforms, every Friday -- allegedly. The former police chief did time for these and other "shenanigans." Most of north Jersey was an illegal drug superhighway to New York city. Cops would wave to the drug mules from Florida as they passed by on their way to the Big Apple. Fortunately, organized crime provided work for young men in the area, reminding them to stay in school and be civic mined between their little jaunts of criminality. Many organized crime figures, allegedly, doubled as elected officials.
Some things never change. Right, Senator Bob? "Let's get tough on crime!"
Friday, October 5, 2007
New Jersey is the Home of Child Molesters!
March 23, 2010 at 1:05 P.M. A new wave of "error" insertions suggests that I am doing serious damage to New Jersey's child molesting mafia types. ("Senator Menendez Struggles to Find His Conscience.")
Nate Schweber, "41 Arrested in New Jersey on Child Pornography Charges," in The New York Times, October 5, 2007, at p. B4.
David Johnston & Scott Shane, "Debate Erupts on Techniques Used by the C.I.A.," in The New York Times, October 5, 2007, at p. 1
How can Anne Milgram sleep at night knowing that these arrests for child porn are only the tip of the proverbial ice berg and that so much criminality -- including the violations of unsuspecting victims by forensic psychiatrists -- continues to go unpunished? Are you not ashamed, Ms. Milgram? (See "Terry Tuchin, Diana Lisa Riccioli, and New Jersey's Agency of Torture.")
How can Democrats demand C.I.A. interrogation memos while refusing to supply New Jersey's torture records to the state's many victims? Is this not fraud and hypocrisy? (See "What is it like to be tortured?" and "Psychological Torture in the American Legal System.")
"The authorities have arrested 41 New Jersey residents, [including] construction workers and a high school volleyball referee, and charged them with sending videos over the Internet of children being raped, the state attorney general Anne Milgram said on Thursday."
Was "Justice" Jaynee La Vecchia or her alleged friend "Diana" mentioned by any of these suspects, as is rumored in many corners of the Garden State? (A new "error" was inserted in this sentence since this morning.) Such allegations wouldn't surprise me. Naturally, I can neither confirm nor deny whether such charges against these gal-pals are true or false -- at this time. Where are the $300 MILLION, Jaynee? Still crazy about the female persons, Diana? even when they're not under hypnosis?
"The arrests in 16 of the state's 21 counties, were a result of a two-month investigation by law enforcement agencies led by the state police technology investigations unit ..."
Gee, don't they want to know about illegal hacks into my computer from the state's facilities or messages purporting to come from the IRS seemingly emanating from New Jersey sources? What about the "Lords of Discipline" in the State Police? Did they provide protection to these criminals? Were they involved in this activity?
I know, I know they'll "frame" me for something. Well, they would have to fabricate allegations because I don't do what the Jersey Boys and Girls do -- commit crimes, like the state's disgraced judges and politicians do, every day, judges and lawyers whose blatant criminality is greeted with a chuckle by Anne Milgram.
Here's a crime for you, Anne. I received an e-mail with this message:
"After the last annual calculations of your fiscal activity we have determined that you are eligible to receive a tax refund of $215.14. Please submit the tax refund request and allow us 6-9 days in order to process it."
"A refund can be delayed for a variety of reasons. For example submitting invalid records or applying after the deadline."
"To access the form for your tax refund, please click here "
Regards,
Internal Revenue Service
"© Copyright 2007, Internal Revenue Service U.S.A."
What an unusual closing for the I.R.S. -- "Regards"? Notice the copyright infringement: How about it Anne Milgram? Is a criminal misrepresentation of federal authority not actionable when it comes from your office or New Jersey's State Police? Did Tuchin claim to be a psychiatrist with your office in Trenton? How many hackers into my sites are "based" in Trenton? Xanadu anyone? Anymore International Prostitution, Inc. prosecutions in Cliffside Park, N.J.?
Children were available from that service, allegedly, for a small fee? Perhaps Deborah T. Poritz indulges in "dates" with very young women. This would explain her friendship with Diana Lisa Riccioli. ("Judges protect child molesters in Bayonne, New Jersey" and "We don't know from nothing.")
"The highest bail $75,000 was set for Peter Gelesky, 51, of Avenel, who volunteers at a high school as a referee for a girl's volleyball team." (See again "We don't know from nothing.")
How come nobody got to him before? Was he "connected"? A spokesperson for New Jersey's sold out High Court said: "We don't know from nothing!"
"Major James Fallon, an investigator for the state police, said that officers were tracking the paths of the images. 'We know many more people who possess and distribute this material,' he said. 'I can tell you we're coming after you.' ..."
This is the same state police department where several officers had sex with an allegedly impaired dollege student.
If only they'd go after New Jersey's squads of organized crime figures, cybersquads, especially those in government and the judiciary, then the people of the Garden State might finally sleep well at night. A good place to start looking for child molesters is among members of the state judiciary.
Nate Schweber, "41 Arrested in New Jersey on Child Pornography Charges," in The New York Times, October 5, 2007, at p. B4.
David Johnston & Scott Shane, "Debate Erupts on Techniques Used by the C.I.A.," in The New York Times, October 5, 2007, at p. 1
How can Anne Milgram sleep at night knowing that these arrests for child porn are only the tip of the proverbial ice berg and that so much criminality -- including the violations of unsuspecting victims by forensic psychiatrists -- continues to go unpunished? Are you not ashamed, Ms. Milgram? (See "Terry Tuchin, Diana Lisa Riccioli, and New Jersey's Agency of Torture.")
How can Democrats demand C.I.A. interrogation memos while refusing to supply New Jersey's torture records to the state's many victims? Is this not fraud and hypocrisy? (See "What is it like to be tortured?" and "Psychological Torture in the American Legal System.")
"The authorities have arrested 41 New Jersey residents, [including] construction workers and a high school volleyball referee, and charged them with sending videos over the Internet of children being raped, the state attorney general Anne Milgram said on Thursday."
Was "Justice" Jaynee La Vecchia or her alleged friend "Diana" mentioned by any of these suspects, as is rumored in many corners of the Garden State? (A new "error" was inserted in this sentence since this morning.) Such allegations wouldn't surprise me. Naturally, I can neither confirm nor deny whether such charges against these gal-pals are true or false -- at this time. Where are the $300 MILLION, Jaynee? Still crazy about the female persons, Diana? even when they're not under hypnosis?
"The arrests in 16 of the state's 21 counties, were a result of a two-month investigation by law enforcement agencies led by the state police technology investigations unit ..."
Gee, don't they want to know about illegal hacks into my computer from the state's facilities or messages purporting to come from the IRS seemingly emanating from New Jersey sources? What about the "Lords of Discipline" in the State Police? Did they provide protection to these criminals? Were they involved in this activity?
I know, I know they'll "frame" me for something. Well, they would have to fabricate allegations because I don't do what the Jersey Boys and Girls do -- commit crimes, like the state's disgraced judges and politicians do, every day, judges and lawyers whose blatant criminality is greeted with a chuckle by Anne Milgram.
Here's a crime for you, Anne. I received an e-mail with this message:
"After the last annual calculations of your fiscal activity we have determined that you are eligible to receive a tax refund of $215.14. Please submit the tax refund request and allow us 6-9 days in order to process it."
"A refund can be delayed for a variety of reasons. For example submitting invalid records or applying after the deadline."
"To access the form for your tax refund, please click here "
Regards,
Internal Revenue Service
"© Copyright 2007, Internal Revenue Service U.S.A."
What an unusual closing for the I.R.S. -- "Regards"? Notice the copyright infringement: How about it Anne Milgram? Is a criminal misrepresentation of federal authority not actionable when it comes from your office or New Jersey's State Police? Did Tuchin claim to be a psychiatrist with your office in Trenton? How many hackers into my sites are "based" in Trenton? Xanadu anyone? Anymore International Prostitution, Inc. prosecutions in Cliffside Park, N.J.?
Children were available from that service, allegedly, for a small fee? Perhaps Deborah T. Poritz indulges in "dates" with very young women. This would explain her friendship with Diana Lisa Riccioli. ("Judges protect child molesters in Bayonne, New Jersey" and "We don't know from nothing.")
"The highest bail $75,000 was set for Peter Gelesky, 51, of Avenel, who volunteers at a high school as a referee for a girl's volleyball team." (See again "We don't know from nothing.")
How come nobody got to him before? Was he "connected"? A spokesperson for New Jersey's sold out High Court said: "We don't know from nothing!"
"Major James Fallon, an investigator for the state police, said that officers were tracking the paths of the images. 'We know many more people who possess and distribute this material,' he said. 'I can tell you we're coming after you.' ..."
This is the same state police department where several officers had sex with an allegedly impaired dollege student.
If only they'd go after New Jersey's squads of organized crime figures, cybersquads, especially those in government and the judiciary, then the people of the Garden State might finally sleep well at night. A good place to start looking for child molesters is among members of the state judiciary.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Organized Crime Group in New Jersey State Police.
October 4, 2007 at 9:23 A.M. I am unable to access my MSN account to continue working on an essay dealing with the Jena 6 case. I will spend the rest of the day trying to reach my MSN account. Maybe there are more swastikas being posted in fields near police stations in New Jersey. Spacing may be affected in this essay. At 9:52 A.M., I am blocking:
Richard G. Jones, "New Jersey Agrees to Settle Trooper's Harassment Suit," in The New York Times, October 2, 2007, at p. B2.
Jeremy W. Peters, "In New Jersey, Corruption May Alter Politics. Or Not.," in The New York Times, October 3, 2007, at B1.
"NEWARK, Oct. 1 -- Officials with the New Jersey attorney general's office said on Monday that the state had agreed to a $400,000 settlement in a lawsuit filed by a former state trooper who said that he was beaten and harassed by members of a secret group of rogue officers within the State Police."
An organized crime group made up of State Police officers -- how do they feel about swastikas? -- terrorizes law enforcement officers in alliance with big time criminals or selected politicians in New Jersey, allegedly, doing the dirty work for the Trenton Syndicate, knowing that they will never be prosecuted or charged in the Garden State for their many crimes. (A new "error" was inserted in this paragraph since my last review of this essay.) Evidently, these cop-criminals have a cybersquad.
Now you know why federal supervision of police was needed (and is still vital) in New Jersey. No wonder good old Stuart Rabner (who can't be as dumb as he looks, since no one could be that stupid) is afraid to act on what is now an obvious pattern of gross criminality, professional incompetence and worse (Tuchin and Riccioli), as well as continuing conspiracies to violate civil rights and then cover-up the violations. Maybe the so-called "Lords of Discipline" have a squad of cybercriminals. (More "errors" have been inserted in this text since last night.)
"The former trooper, Justin Hopson, filed the lawsuit in 2003. In it, he described a series of beatings, threats and acts of vandalism that he said occurred after he refused to support an arrest by another trooper in 2002."
"Mr. Hopson said he was attacked by members of a loose-knit group within the State Police known as the Lords of Discipline. For years, minority and female troopers have complained that they have been harassed by members of the group."
Sexual harassment of female officers and women drivers is a routine perk claimed by these guys. How do you feel about that Anne Milgram?
"In 2005, the state attorney general's office issued a report that found seven troopers guilty of harassing their colleagues. The troopers received punishments ranging from reprimands to 45 day suspensions, but the attorney general's office said it found no evidence that the Lords of Discipline existed within the State Police."
Everybody in New Jersey government, including Stuart Rabner and Anne Milgram (unless they are even more incompetent than I thought) knows that the Lords of Discipline "family" exists and officials are scared shitless of being targeted by the "boys." (One more "error" has appeared in this essay since my last reading of it.) Soon federal prosecutors and judges will be designated for destruction, through illicit, behind-the-back character assassinations and economic warfare. The "rogue" troopers are viciously racist and homophobic. (See "New Jersey's KKK Police Shocker.")
"... Mr. Hopson, 33, filed suit after the March 2002 arrest of a woman for drunken driving, which he said was improper because the woman had not been behind the wheel. At the time of the arrest, Mr. Hopson had been on the job 11 days."
Fabricating criminal charges, filing false police reports, lying to investigators -- are all crimes and not one of the N.J. troopers responsible for these actions, allegedly, has been charged or even investigated for these offenses. I wonder who is providing political protection? Richard J. Cody, Speaker Roberts, Bob Menendez, or others? Probably, it's all of the above to some degree.
Ms. Milgram through her spokesperson, David Wald, is lying by denying the existence of this organization and knows she's lying. The OAE exists "under" the attorney general's office, so there is no danger that these lies will result in ethics charges or any other difficulties for those offering them to the public with a straight face. Ms. Milgram will probably end up as a judge, requiring people to swear to tell the truth in her courtroom. Milgram won't be disciplined or disbarred when these statements concerning the non-existence of the Lords of Discipline are shown to be blatant lies. And they will be. There are rumors of federal investigations soon to result in more N.J. indictments. The efforts to cover-up police criminality makes a public official a co-conspirator, legally liable for all crimes committed in furtherance of that conspiracy to "cover up" hate crimes by dirty cops. (Go ahead, take out a letter from that previous sentence.)
Efforts against (more inserted "errors" and corrections!) Mr. Hopson began with psychological torture: "When Mr. Hopson refused to endorse fellow troopers' versions of events surrounding the arrest" -- was the young woman who was arrested attractive? -- "a campaign to silence him began. First, there were threatening notes left around his station house in the Troop A region, which covers much of South Jersey."
I bet she was strip searched.
"Then, Mr. Hopson said, his car was vandalized. By the time he sued the state in December 2003, Mr. Hopson said that he had been the victim of a series of beatings at the hands of another trooper."
"Mr. Hopson's lawyer, William H. Buckman, said that the Lords of Discipline is part of an unseemly subculture within the State Police."
"The agency is operating under the auspices of a federal monitor because of findings that it had improperly targeted drivers for moving violations [and parking tickets?] because of their race."
New Jersey's Supreme Court and attorney general, Anne Milgram, as well as Governor Jon S. Corzine must bear ultimate responsibility for these crimes taking place for years suggesting continuing, humiliating indifference and complicity in criminality on the part of the state's legal institutions. The whole world is watching. Ethics? In New Jersey?
In response to this shameful episode of criminality among law enforcement officials and corruption in high places, New Jersey authorities say that voters may not care about corruption since they will assume (correctly, in New Jersey) that politics is always corrupt.
"This could be the year that corruption dominates the political debate and Republicans wrest seats from the Democrats, who have controlled both houses of the Legislature since 2004. But political experts say they do not see that happening, not in a state where Democrats dominate the Legislature and occupy the governor's office and both United States Senate seats. And not in a state where voters have grown callused about government corruption."
Take a look at your children -- if you live in New Jersey -- and ask yourself whether MORE government and judiciary by the mob is what you wish to see in their future.
http://view.atdmt.com/Jaction/ko/msn_MSNBC...
http://ad.doubleclick.net/adj/N3016.msnbc/B229...
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Richard G. Jones, "New Jersey Agrees to Settle Trooper's Harassment Suit," in The New York Times, October 2, 2007, at p. B2.
Jeremy W. Peters, "In New Jersey, Corruption May Alter Politics. Or Not.," in The New York Times, October 3, 2007, at B1.
"NEWARK, Oct. 1 -- Officials with the New Jersey attorney general's office said on Monday that the state had agreed to a $400,000 settlement in a lawsuit filed by a former state trooper who said that he was beaten and harassed by members of a secret group of rogue officers within the State Police."
An organized crime group made up of State Police officers -- how do they feel about swastikas? -- terrorizes law enforcement officers in alliance with big time criminals or selected politicians in New Jersey, allegedly, doing the dirty work for the Trenton Syndicate, knowing that they will never be prosecuted or charged in the Garden State for their many crimes. (A new "error" was inserted in this paragraph since my last review of this essay.) Evidently, these cop-criminals have a cybersquad.
Now you know why federal supervision of police was needed (and is still vital) in New Jersey. No wonder good old Stuart Rabner (who can't be as dumb as he looks, since no one could be that stupid) is afraid to act on what is now an obvious pattern of gross criminality, professional incompetence and worse (Tuchin and Riccioli), as well as continuing conspiracies to violate civil rights and then cover-up the violations. Maybe the so-called "Lords of Discipline" have a squad of cybercriminals. (More "errors" have been inserted in this text since last night.)
"The former trooper, Justin Hopson, filed the lawsuit in 2003. In it, he described a series of beatings, threats and acts of vandalism that he said occurred after he refused to support an arrest by another trooper in 2002."
"Mr. Hopson said he was attacked by members of a loose-knit group within the State Police known as the Lords of Discipline. For years, minority and female troopers have complained that they have been harassed by members of the group."
Sexual harassment of female officers and women drivers is a routine perk claimed by these guys. How do you feel about that Anne Milgram?
"In 2005, the state attorney general's office issued a report that found seven troopers guilty of harassing their colleagues. The troopers received punishments ranging from reprimands to 45 day suspensions, but the attorney general's office said it found no evidence that the Lords of Discipline existed within the State Police."
Everybody in New Jersey government, including Stuart Rabner and Anne Milgram (unless they are even more incompetent than I thought) knows that the Lords of Discipline "family" exists and officials are scared shitless of being targeted by the "boys." (One more "error" has appeared in this essay since my last reading of it.) Soon federal prosecutors and judges will be designated for destruction, through illicit, behind-the-back character assassinations and economic warfare. The "rogue" troopers are viciously racist and homophobic. (See "New Jersey's KKK Police Shocker.")
"... Mr. Hopson, 33, filed suit after the March 2002 arrest of a woman for drunken driving, which he said was improper because the woman had not been behind the wheel. At the time of the arrest, Mr. Hopson had been on the job 11 days."
Fabricating criminal charges, filing false police reports, lying to investigators -- are all crimes and not one of the N.J. troopers responsible for these actions, allegedly, has been charged or even investigated for these offenses. I wonder who is providing political protection? Richard J. Cody, Speaker Roberts, Bob Menendez, or others? Probably, it's all of the above to some degree.
Ms. Milgram through her spokesperson, David Wald, is lying by denying the existence of this organization and knows she's lying. The OAE exists "under" the attorney general's office, so there is no danger that these lies will result in ethics charges or any other difficulties for those offering them to the public with a straight face. Ms. Milgram will probably end up as a judge, requiring people to swear to tell the truth in her courtroom. Milgram won't be disciplined or disbarred when these statements concerning the non-existence of the Lords of Discipline are shown to be blatant lies. And they will be. There are rumors of federal investigations soon to result in more N.J. indictments. The efforts to cover-up police criminality makes a public official a co-conspirator, legally liable for all crimes committed in furtherance of that conspiracy to "cover up" hate crimes by dirty cops. (Go ahead, take out a letter from that previous sentence.)
Efforts against (more inserted "errors" and corrections!) Mr. Hopson began with psychological torture: "When Mr. Hopson refused to endorse fellow troopers' versions of events surrounding the arrest" -- was the young woman who was arrested attractive? -- "a campaign to silence him began. First, there were threatening notes left around his station house in the Troop A region, which covers much of South Jersey."
I bet she was strip searched.
"Then, Mr. Hopson said, his car was vandalized. By the time he sued the state in December 2003, Mr. Hopson said that he had been the victim of a series of beatings at the hands of another trooper."
"Mr. Hopson's lawyer, William H. Buckman, said that the Lords of Discipline is part of an unseemly subculture within the State Police."
"The agency is operating under the auspices of a federal monitor because of findings that it had improperly targeted drivers for moving violations [and parking tickets?] because of their race."
New Jersey's Supreme Court and attorney general, Anne Milgram, as well as Governor Jon S. Corzine must bear ultimate responsibility for these crimes taking place for years suggesting continuing, humiliating indifference and complicity in criminality on the part of the state's legal institutions. The whole world is watching. Ethics? In New Jersey?
In response to this shameful episode of criminality among law enforcement officials and corruption in high places, New Jersey authorities say that voters may not care about corruption since they will assume (correctly, in New Jersey) that politics is always corrupt.
"This could be the year that corruption dominates the political debate and Republicans wrest seats from the Democrats, who have controlled both houses of the Legislature since 2004. But political experts say they do not see that happening, not in a state where Democrats dominate the Legislature and occupy the governor's office and both United States Senate seats. And not in a state where voters have grown callused about government corruption."
Take a look at your children -- if you live in New Jersey -- and ask yourself whether MORE government and judiciary by the mob is what you wish to see in their future.
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