Anytime someone comes off with something stupid, you’ll hear my neighbor Bill Archer say, “Who’s in charge of rumor control today?” Because he knows the crap he’s just heard is just that. Straight up bullshit. Don’t believe any­thing you hear and only half of what you see in these places is what I say, because there’s always some idiot running around telling lies and starting rumors. I for one, don’t like to look stupid when duped by a prankster simply out to have a little fun. In closing, you know President elect Barack Obama is going to cut all non-violent drug offenders prison sentences in half. Don’t you? Not likely. Yet there are a bunch of these assholes running around here thinking just that. My release date is in late 2014. I’ll see you then. I’m Tripper! Better Days!

There are all kinds of hustles in federal prison. There are guys who shine shoes, fix watches and iron uniforms. Then, there are your inmate attorneys. Also known as writ writers or jailhouse lawyers. These are men who have, or sometimes claim to have, knowledge of the law who’ll help you work on your case. Some are hard working dudes. Others, well … they’re simply in it for the money. If an inmate brings me his case and I read it and see he ain’t got nothin’ comin’? Then I’ll tell him he ain’t got nothin’ comin’ and like it or not, go away. The harsh reality of prison is, very rarely does anyone win their case on appeal. No use lying to these guys telling them they’re going to win. Because 999 times out of 1,000, they can’t and won’t. And the sooner they get this through their thick skulls, the better off they’ll be. Know what I’m sayin’? Holding on to hope that just isn’t there is what steals your soul and life blood.

Among we writ writers who sit here in the law library day after day, there’s a private joke about a fictional law firm we call, Dewey, Cheatham, & Howe. Personally, I don’t beat people out of their money, but there are a lot of these crooked so-called inmate attorneys who will. For example, there’s a former federal public defender I met from Gary, Indiana. Of course, he’s doing time for fraud. This guy will literally tell you anything you want to hear. He’ll convince you he can win your case on either direct appeal or certiorari when in reality, all he wants is your dough. Sent Western Union from your family on the outside to his contact in the free world of course. That way there’ll be no trace of any inmate-to-inmate or outside-to-inmate money transaction on record. The real deal being, “Yes we can cheat ‘em and this is how.”

Then there are your cheap jailhouse attorneys. Men who’ll promise you the world on a silver platter for as little as a carton of smokes and a couple of jars of Folgers. There was one such guy at FCI El Reno. His name was Bill. Eventually Bill got ran off the yard for promising bullshit with his mouth that his ass couldn’t pay. It’s not nice to lie to someone, promising them you can get them back in court. Especially someone desperate, who just got a hot 30 piece, and a man with little or no understanding of the system, the new world he’s been thrown into, or how the convict system works. If you know for sure a guy ain’t got nothin’ comin’, then why would you lie to him knowing the dude’s in for armed robbery, kidnapping and murder? One would have to ask himself, are coffee and cigarettes really that important? If it were me, I’d have to say no. After old Bill checked in, I heard he got his ass beat in the hole. Shit happens. It just ain’t gonna happen with me or to me.

There are former chiropractors serving time in prison who can work on your back. And there are preachers who claim they can save your soul. However, beware of the slick talkin’ inmate attorney who claims he can get you out of lockup, because again, more often than not, they’re full of more shit than a Christmas turkey. Regardless of what they say, if their lips are movin’, they’re lyin’. I can spot a fraudster from a mile away. Take former California attorney Joe Jammy for example. The name of whom has been changed to keep him from being further beaten at whatever federal joint he’s in now. This asshole decided he was going to bilk a mafia boss out of a few thousand bucks promising him he could write something that would set him free. When he lied, as it ALWAYS happens, the boss found out, he too found himself on the business end of a pair of homemade prison knucks. Badly beaten and bruised and barely able to breathe through his shattered nose, he spent many days in an outside hospital getting reconstructive surgery done before getting moved to a PC (protective custody) joint somewhere in the U.S.

You’re got your U.C.C. guys (Universal Commercial Code) that tell you the way to go is to lien up the judge and prosecutor that put you in prison. To have an outside collection agent go to their houses, change the locks on their doors and haul off all their vehicles. That too won’t work. Just ask the Montana Freeman who got an extra 15 piece added to their already existing 30 for doing that same, exact, stupid shit. Sitting in the law library next to those guys at FCI El Reno, I told them that crazy crap wouldn’t work. That all they were going to do was wind up getting more time. But nooooo! They wouldn’t listen to me! Now they’re buried under the hole in some unknown federal prison somewhere eating bread and water and a few cockroaches for protein. Rest assured, the United States Government has jurisdiction to prosecute you anywhere and for anything they’d like. Never underestimate the United States Attorney. You think the writ writers in prison are crooked? You should see these guys work! All I’m sayin’ is … U.C.C. ain’t the way to go.

I do a little legal work here in the joint. But only stuff I know how to do. I can file for a fast and speedy trial under the rules of the IADA (Inter­state Agreement on Detainers Act). I can get a guy jail time credit if it’s due. And I’ve even been known to get a divorce or two granted, or a detainer dropped. But only because it’s something I’m familiar with—something I’ve done before. I won’t charge a guy an arm and a leg for my services either. If they don’t have any money, I don’t charge them anything at all. If they have the ability to pay and it’s not going to take away from their wife and kids. It’ll usually cost them a few books of postage stamps. No need in being greedy. I’ll do what I can do only if I think my client can win. No Dewey, Cheatham & Howe here. Just straight up honest legal work done by a layman who has more knowledge of the complicated science of the law than the average con. In closing, I’d just like to say … if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime. That reference has haunted me for 8 years. If you come to me in prison lookin’ for legal help, don’t expect a miracle and get your mind set on doing your own time. It’s just easier to accept it and try to live in today than hope for things that will never come tomorrow. I’m Tripper. Better Days!

Some major shit went down here at FCI Big Spring a couple of weeks ago. Didn’t want to talk about it for a while. But now that the smoke’s finally cleared, it’s probably safe to tell you guys what happened. You see, there’s a lot of gang activity in federal prison. The Paisa and Aztecas are sworn enemies. Texas Syndicate can’t be housed with Serangos. And the Washington D.C. blacks don’t get along with anybody. Not even their so-called brothers. Therefore, the B.O.P. takes special care not to house certain specific groups of assholes on the same prison yard. FCI Big Spring is ran by the Paizas. Paizas, for those of you who don’t know, are Mexicans from south of ..the U.S. border. Dangerous little mother fuckers they are, they’ll gang up and ratpack you in a New York second. For the most part, I don’t have any problem with them. Yet the Azteca guys from south Texas near El Paso do. About a month ago, an Aztec gangbanger hit the yard. Everyone thought he rode with West Texas. He didn’t. And soon as someone figured out who he was, they busted him out and he damn near got killed.

Suddenly one evening, they called an institution lockdown. That just meant everyone had to return to their housing units for a body check and count without unwarranted delay. Rumors travel fast among convicts. Soon as men started coming in off the yard we knew what went down. One minute there were about fifty Mexicans under a pavilion next to the soccer field. The next minute there was only one, and he wasn’t standing any more. He was lying in a puddle of his own blood with a broken back and caved in skull. I know this because about fifteen wetbacks got rolled up that night. After staff came around and made us all pull off our shirts so they could check us for injuries and fucked up knuckles. Shortly after that we saw an ambulance out front carting the assaultee off to the local hospital. Yeah, steel toed boots can really do damage to a man’s cranium. We stayed locked down all night until the cops got everyone rolled up, taken to the hole and all their property inventoried and packed. Next morning, it was back to normal operations.

They say this old boy was suspected as an Azteca gang member the day he got off the bus. Yet when questioned by the Paizanos and other gang boys, he claimed to be a West Texan from Odessa. Most of the convicts believed him. But something seemed fishy to others. His tattoos were wrong. No one from the area really knew him either. And eventually I guess someone figured out he wasn’t who he said he was. When shit like these planned assaults go down, the assaultee usually doesn’t know about it. Yet all the perpetrators do. They knew old boy was going out on the recreation yard for the evening. They might even had a secret or double agent set him up. All I know is, I saw a lot of suited and booted Mexicans going out to the yard that night. And by 7:00 pm, everyone was all locked down and the Aztec Warrior was in the Big Spring hospital in a coma. Damn the bad luck dude. The way I see it, the guy shouldn’t have lied. He should have admitted he was an Aztec day one and checked in. If he would have came clean and done that, he’d probably still be okay today. The same rules don’t apply inside here. It’s about survival of the fittest, and while checking in isn’t too much fun, I don’t suppose a coma is either.

One of the Correctional Officers here told me the guy was in the hospital and the doctors were giving him regular injections to keep him paralyzed from the neck down. That way he couldn’t feel the pain or mess something up if he moved. They were waiting for some of the swelling to go down in his brain so they could try and fix his back, and the rest of the shit that was wrong with him. Last I heard, he was still breathing but shit wasn’t looking good for the home team. I guess the B.O.P. finally broke down and contacted his family. Normally, prison staff won’t notify family members until an inmate is, or damn near is, DEAD! Their fear being … if they do, someone might come to the hospital, overpower the guards, and try to break their family member out. Stupid ass shit if you ask me. I mean with this guy? He’s obviously not going to jump up, rip the IV out of his arm and run off. The dude’s damn near a vege­table for Christ’s sakes! Here’s something else the normal everyday Joe doesn’t know. They leave the cuffs and leg-irons on a prisoner even after he’s dead! Standard Bureau of Prisons procedure, or so they say. Humiliating to the family if you ask me and unreasonable. As I said, the same rules do not apply inside these walls. It’s a jungle in here, and if you don’t know the law of the land very well, then you may very well be taken out like Mr. Coma.

I’ve seen a lot of violence in these places. Everything from a guy getting a hole knocked in the side of his skull the exact shape and size of a combination lock. To an inmate who had his head caved in with a horseshoe. The latter of the two also having his throat cut ear-to-ear and buried in a pauper’s graveyard outside the fence at FCI El Reno no less. I tell ya, these Mexicans are some straight up crazy ass fools. I use to think the blacks were bad inside these places. Hell, they look like a bunch of first grade pansies compared to these south of the border ‘bangers when it comes to splitting somebody’s head! I saw firsthand what these Paizanos can do back in December of ‘07.(See previous blog titled, “No Mo’ Cho’ Mo’s”)
They’re as ruthless and dangerous as the day is long. At any rate, just wanted to give everyone a little insight on the latest in reference to what goes on in shithole joints like these. Things are not always cool, calm and collective as prison staff wants the public to believe. Fortunately, there hasn’t been a Hispanic on White incident at FCI Big Spring since late ‘04. In closing, know this, there are no more fair fights in prison. Only beat downs! I’m Tripper. Better Days !