A Few Good Men

You remember that famous scene in A Few Good Men where Jack Nicholson gives that "You can't handle the truth" speech? You remember what happens right after that speech? Cruise, essentially, asks if Jack is responsible for ordering a murder. Jack starts to flounder a bit, and Cruise, again, asks if Jack is responsible for ordering a murder, but he yells at his face. And Jack responds by yelling back, "You're goddam right I did!" The courtroom falls silent and Cruise looks stunned, because this guy just admitted to ordering a murder, believing it was the right thing to do.

Nicholson's character in that movie is fantastic. Somebody so flawed that he believes he is entirely above reproach or mistake. He believes that he is so infallible that he just admits to having done something as reprehensible as ordering another human to be murdered without fear of rebuke. In fact, a few moments later, he's saying to the courtroom that he has done something valiant. His actions-- ordering U.S. Marines to take actions against a fellow U.S. Marine which resulted in murder-- were to be lauded. This character is sick. He is psychotic. And he's fun for me to watch because he's a bad, bad, bad guy and you know it from the beginning of the movie that he's a bad, bad, bad guy. And he tries to hide it for the whole movie, but ultimately, he decides that he doesn't need to hide from anybody, least of all Tom Cruise in his "faggoty white uniform", and just says to the world, "I did my job and I'd do it again," referring to killing another marine. And I like that character, probably, because I've never had to deal with somebody like that-- that sick and psychotic-- ever before.

Then our lawyer called yesterday.

Our lawyer (who has earned the name Ninja Yoda), deposed Shrimp Dick on Monday. A deposition is a legal matter, with a court reporter and all, where opposing counsel (Ninja Yoda) gets to ask questions of the other side (Shrimp Dick) in a kind of preview for the trial. It's legally binding, the deposition, and you are held to what you say when you appear in court. If you change your answers between the deposition and the trial, you're breaking the law. If you lie at the deposition, you're breaking the law. It's a big deal.

So my impression is that Ninja Yoda was going to ask Shrimp Dick about this new motion he's filed, which is to dissolve joint custody between my wife and his shrimpy-withered-dick-self. He stated, in the motion, that my wife has berated him publicly and in front of their children, she has unilaterally scheduled school and doctor appointments without talking with him about them first, she has involved the boys in the litigation process unnecessarily, and has threatened the boys relationship with family members (which means my wife's mother, who maintains a relationship with Shrimp Dick through this whole mess, and continues to shun my wife at every turn).

Ninja Yoda starts by asking Srimpy about the threats to family members. Ninja Yoda: so what's up with this thing about threatening family members and hurting their relationship with the boys? Shrimpy: well, [my wife's mother] was going to be deposed, and that was a threat that [my wife] made and that hurts the boys. Ninja Yoda: you understand that you put [my wife's mother] on your list of witnesses for trial? Shrimpy: yes. Ninja Yoda: and you know that it is in my client's best interest if I know what your witnesses are going to say, so I'm the one who stated that I would have to depose her mother if we actually went to trial? Shrimpy: yes. Ninja Yoda: so you understand that it's not a threat, but a legal move originated by myself and not [my wife]? Shrimpy: yes. Ninja Yoda: so... how, again, is it a threat from my client when it came from me? Shrimpy: it's not. Point, Ninja Yoda.

Next issue. Ninja Yoda: so tell me how my client berates you. Shrimpy: well, at school and in public and in front of the boys, she berates me. Ninja Yoda: ok, can you give me an example of how she berates you? Shrimpy: well... umm... she just does. Ninja Yoda: does she call you names? Shrimpy: no. Ninja Yoda: is she nasty to you? Ninja Yoda: no. Ninja Yoda: does she do it in front of the children? Shrimpy: well, they come and go. Ninja Yoda: so they're not there? Shrimpy: no. Ninja Yoda: so how does she berate you? Shrimpy: well, you wouldn't understand. You'd have to hear it. Ninja Yoda: oh, I've heard some of it. Can you tell me how she berates you? Shrimpy: well, she talks down to me in her tone. Ninja Yoda: my client berates you with her tone? Shrimpy: yes. Ninja Yoda: so she berates you with her tone? Shrimpy: yes. Point, Ninja Yoda.

Next issue. Ninja Yoda: can you tell me how my client unilaterally schedules meetings? Shrimpy: well, she contacts the doctor or teacher, they tell her the times that they have available, and then she tells me when those times are, and I choose which time is best for me. Ninja Yoda: so you get to choose which time is best for you from a selection of times that my client presents to you? Shrimpy: yes. Point, Ninja Yoda. But she continues on this point, as there's more insanity to uncover. Ninja Yoda: I understand that my client contacted teachers recently regarding the boys and that made you mad, is that correct? Shrimpy: well, yeah! She doesn't need to speak for me. Ninja Yoda: she actually didn't speak for you, she contacted the teachers stating that you had not been able to contact the teachers. Shrimpy: she shouldn't be talking to them. Ninja Yoda: can you talk to the teachers? Shrimpy: yes! Ninja Yoda: have you? Shrimpy: no. Double point, Ninja Yoda.

At this point, Ninja Yoda has gone over every point that Shrimp Dick has presented, and he has absolutely no foundation for any of his accusations. None. Ninja Yoda: you understand, to dissolve joint custody, something severe needs to change in the conditions of the children or the parents such that this change is negatively affecting the children. You have stated that my client has a tone that she uses with you when the children aren't around, that she has not threatened any family member or put that family member's relationship with the boys in jeopardy, and that she allows you to choose appointment times from a selection of several times before she schedules them. Are you sure you want to continue with this motion to dissolve joint custody. Shrimpy: I need to talk with my lawyer [who has been sitting next to his client the entire time, saying nothing]. Ninja Yoda says that they should take a five minute recess. After five, they come back and Shrimpy says that he wants to continue with the law suit to dissolve joint custody. Ninja Yoda: can you tell me why you want to dissolve joint custody? Shrimpy: because I don't want to be questioned or criticized by your client and I want to have complete control over the boys' lives. *That, by the way, is a direct quote: "I want to have complete control over the boys' lives." Seems to fly in the face of the joint custody agreement he is currently involved in.*

So Ninja Yoda contacts us yesterday and tells us all of this. She's excited and baffled. The excitement comes from knowing that the opposition has nothing at all that they plan on using to support their arguments, and everything they have been saying is baseless. The bafflement comes from how in the fuck did Shrimpy's lawyer let this get to this point, and how in the fuck does Shrimpy believe he should continue when he has just given testimony that he's, in no uncertain terms, full of shit?? There is, at this point, no chance that the joint custody will be dissolved in Shrimp Dick's favor. There is, however, a chance that joint custody will be dissolved as he has proven himself to be insane.

Shrimp Dick is nothing like Jack Nicholson, or the character he portrays in A Few Good Men. One of the biggest differences is that Nicholson doesn't need to buy tampons every 28 days like Shrimp Dick does. Nicholson doesn't bottle, chill and drink his own urine. Nicholson doesn't squat to pee. I can't take credit for that last one, that's a direct David Mamet quote from Speed the Plow. But it fits. Shrimp Dick is a sick, sick individual who should be removed from the general population and put away for the rest of his life. He's evil and stupid and should be ended.

I love A Few Good Men, but after hearing about yesterday's events, I'm looking at that movie in a different light. It doesn't make me as happy anymore. I know there are monsters worse than Colonel Nathan R. Jessup, and one of them is in charge of caring for my boys more than half of their lives. I don't like thinking about that, or thinking about what he might do if his psychotic delusions come crashing down, like waking up on May 22nd, 2011, and realizing your religious leader has taken you for a ride and you're screwed.

I will choose not to think about that. It hasn't happened. It's not here. There's no need to project fear about things that haven't happened. There's a difference between being prepared for an event and dwelling in it's forecasted tragedies.

I'm gonna live here:

Col. Nathan R. Jessup: I'm gonna rip the eyes out of your head, and piss in your dead skull! You fucked with the wrong marine! You fuckin' people. You have no idea how to defend a nation. All you did was weaken a country today, Caffey. You put people's lives in danger. That's all you did. Sweet dreams, son.

Daniel Caffey: Don't call me "son". I'm a lawyer and an officer in the United States Navy. And you're under arrest, you son of a bitch. The witness is excused.

Fuckin' A. The witness is excused.

Stupid

I hear that the lawyer has made contact with my wife sooner than expected.

I try not to let this get to me, but the only time we hear from the lawyer is when we have to deal with Fucker.

Our lawyer said that she would not contact my wife until after this Friday. Our lawyer emailed today.

My muscles feel like there are razor points inside of them. Every move I make feels like metal scraping on metal scraping on my bones. My eyes blur and seeing becomes difficult. My breath becomes shallow. My ideas become a swarm of bees right below my hair. And my heart-- shit, my heart-- it's tight and refuses to beat. My body wants to cold sweat and my skin tightens as if to push out moisture, and I can feel the tiny sweat glands under each pore push out sweat that doesn't come. My skin becomes cool in anticipation, followed by the realization that there is not cool, so it's hot, and then another pseudo-push comes from my sweat glads, and the cool-hot see-saw begins again.

I am starting to have a panic attack.

I can rationalize my way through this, and my functionality doesn't disable me. I'm able to write this now. But the symptoms are still there. And now the sides of my stomach are hurting.

I don't know if my wife has talked with our lawyer. I'm guessing she hasn't. My wife has told me that she will contact me as soon as she hears from our lawyer.

I hate this process.
I hate my body.
I hate these feelings.
I hate these thoughts I have about the people involved in this court battle.
I hate having these panic attack thoughts and feelings about the thoughts about the battle.
I hate writing like this.

I am powerful and I can control my actions.
My feelings have no foundation.
Currently, what I know is that I don't know anything.
I am not in danger.
My wife is not in danger.
My boys are not in danger.
My mother is not in danger.
My step-father is not in danger.
If any of them were in trouble, I would know about it.
My wife is safe.
Even if she is sad, crushed or crumbled by life, she is safe.
And when she is not safe, she will call me.
I am powerful and in control of my actions.

I feel slightly more focused now.

Stupid body.

Tips For Life

I've got some tips for life. Let's call them... oh, say... Tips For Life.

1. One of the arguments for preventing homosexual marriage is that we, as a nation, need to protect the Sanctity of Marriage. This would mean, of course, that there is something sacred about marriage, and the institution of husband and wife should be protected. In support of this, I recommend that we make divorce impossible, even in the event of death. That way, we will stand behind our conviction of marriage being something sacred.

2. I think all the people who want to own firearms should be allowed to own them. And I don't think they should be forced to wait to get these guns, too. It is, after all, a Constitutional Right (not originally, mind you... it was the Second amendment... meaning that the founding fathers left it out originally, but when they started realizing just how many idiots were living in this country, they wanted to ensure the right to arm themselves against them... probably... I don't know... I wasn't there... and neither were you, smarty... wait, I'm getting side-tracked). One of the biggest arguments for owning firearms is for protection. So I want to protect the owners of firearms by putting them someplace safe. I say we build a giant wall the size of, say, all the way around the Texas border, and put all the people with guns in this giant Safe Place with all the weapons they want. And we don't let them out. Why would they want to leave the Safest Place on Earth-- Texas? Then, they will be safe with all the other people who own guns. Plus, with the large wall around Texas, we won't have to worry about protecting that border from illegal immigration. Or from Texans, for that matter. This tip kills 3 birds with one stone... and I didn't have to use a gun to kill those birds!

3. I think that abortion should be completely outlawed. Completely against the law for any and all reasons. I think that, prior to the passage of this law, the people who say they believe in the Right To Life should sign a large ballot. Then, when a mother has a baby that she doesn't want or can't afford to care for, the baby will have a family chosen at random from the list of people who want to cherish that baby's life. And that family will become the legal family for that child so that the child can actually have the Right To Life. And should the mother die in the process of giving birth to the baby, a name will be chosen at random from the ballot and that person will have to pay for funeral costs of the mother, as her Right To Life was taken away from her.

4. I think that life begins at conception, and therefore, I believe that we should figure out when everyone was conceived and collect back-taxes from all of us, as we spent, on average, 9 months living in this country, illegally occupying space in our mother's wombs without paying our due to the nation that provided services for us. I also believe we should give current feti Social Security numbers starting immediately, so we can start collecting taxes from them as well. This tip not only helps support our convictions regarding Right To Life, but also helps us balance the budget! I'm multitasking here!

5. Insurance and insurance companies are good, as they have provided us with the best health care system in the world. I suggest we take this philosophy into every aspect of our lives, which, logically, would make every aspect of our lives the Best Aspect of Our Lives In The World. So now, when you go to buy a television, you have to buy insurance, in the event the television breaks and you don't have the money to cover the cost of repairs or replacement. Some people might think of this as a warranty or an extended service plan, but let's just call it insurance. And let's move it into education, too, so that you have to buy insurance in the event that your child doesn't learn or the teacher doesn't teach the correct information. And let's move it into your personal life, so that you can make that better, too. You now have to buy falling in love insurance, in the event that you don't actually love the other person or they break your heart somehow. And let's move it into buying groceries, in the event that the milk is sour when you get it home and you need some more milk. That way, you'll have to prove that there was not a pre-existing condition in your milk, like it came from a warm-blooded cow. Because, hey, if your milk came from a warm-blooded cow, there's no way that milk can be covered from going sour, as we all know that heat makes milk go sour. And this way, our insurance companies will continue to grow and profit and American will be exponentially better!

6. Parents should have the right to prevent their children from partaking in sexual education classes, which they already do, and still have their child receive a passing grade-- meaning that the child has assimilated the information given to him in school. Let's improve on this thought, however (since it's a good thought), and say that parents should have the right to prevent their children from partaking in science, math, English, reading and any other class the parent deems offensive or immoral. We should also brand those parents and children with large, burning pieces of iron, so we know who is responsible for the child when he gets into problems with the law, drugs and cults. We'll also know to charge the parents for financial costs associated with emergency medical costs (for ignorant children who are in gangs because they aren't qualified to do anything else), drug rehabilitation costs (for ignorant children who take drugs because they aren't educated in what those drugs might do to you), and unemployment and welfare benefits (for ignorant children who can't take care of themselves because they, for some reason, can't be prevented from living in the same way that they were prevented from going to classes in school).

7. Currently, American oil companies have made $27 billion in profits over the past decade. That boils down to $2.7 billion every year in money that is not used to improve the company's equipment, pay for overhead costs, insure and pay for every single one of it's employees, buy insurance for, say, environmental disasters that might happen as a result of the business being open, or any other cost associated with every aspect of running the business. Two point seven billion dollars every year for ten years which is over-and-above what they need. Currently, Democrats are trying to get tax reform passed so that these companies will no longer have the tax breaks they are getting, which, say these Democrats, will help balance our budget by bringing in money from a place that can live without it. How dare you, Democrats! If anything, we should give these behemoth companies MORE tax breaks, so they will make more money and, as Reganomics taught us, that money will "trickle down" to the people who need it the most, thus stimulating the economy! Hopefully (and I'm crossing my fingers on this one), we will have nothing in this country that doesn't depend on oil! I'm breathlessly waiting for the day I can eat a petroleum sandwich made from a loaf of congealed oil. De. Licious!

8. Socialism is not American. We should not have socialized health care, because that will destroy the current, Best In The World quality of health care we currently receive. So in that vein, we should outlaw all the current socialized programs in these United States. We need to do away with all the libraries, as they are destroying the quality of book stores in America. We need to get rid of all the public schools, because we all know that they suck. Every child will get a private school education, and every parent will pay for that education. We need to do away with the police force in favor of private security which we would pay for individually, like when you decide what kind of service you want from your cable television. You could pay for home and highway security, or maybe just protection from rapists if you don't want to spend so much money. We need to do away with the fire department, another socialized evil, and rely on our garden hoses to put out fires. That's what I'm paying the water company for! And we certainly don't need an armed military! I think we all can remember the success we had when Haliburton and Blackwater were hired as private contractors to take over for our military actions in Iraq. They had none of the restrictions of the U.S. Armed Forces and all of the weapons! It was brilliant!


I hope you're able to take these tips and use them to help your life. That's why I call them Tips For Life. With this catchy title, you also don't have to think about them much. Just implement them mindlessly into your life and you will have Tips. Tips For Life.

You're welcome.

The Claimant

I just did something I'm not supposed to do. I cared about a person.

I work for a government agency that determines if people are able to work or not. If they are found incapable of working, the government gives them money. As you might guess, there are a lot of people who are asking for money from their government. Most of the people who ask for money aren't actually incapable of working, so they are rejected. But that doesn't keep them from asking for the money. And it doesn't keep them from calling me and asking me for the money. And it doesn't keep them from being frustrated and angry and mad at me about how long the process takes and how they're going to lose their homes and how really, really sick they are. What I've found in my short time here is that most people who are actually sick don't have the energy to call and bug me. They're sick and unable to work.

There's something that really sucks, though, about being around somebody who is in pain. Especially if it's emotional pain. They cry, and blubber, and in my job these people are strangers, so I don't have any kind of relationship with them when they suddenly break down and start telling me about losing their home and their car and on top of that they are really ill. It's something that I don't really like going through.

One of the people who has asked for money has been in my system for over 230 days. That's a really long time, especially when you think about the fact that I try to get people out of my system in less than 70 days. This lady has been in my caseload for going-on a year, and it's not because of her or us. We had to send her to a doctor to get a test. And the doctor performed the wrong test. So we had to send her to another exam. And the doctor, again, performed the wrong test. So we sent her to a different doctor. This doctor refused to send us the test results. So now, we're sending her to a third doctor to go through a fourth test. In this time, she has lost her car due to financial difficulties, so she can't be driven by her husband to the exam-- which he drove her to the previous three times. I have to send an email to another state to request that this lady get a taxi cab to take her to this exam.

Every time this lady has called me, she ends up crying. She's in horrible pain, she says, and she can't work, and everything is awful. And then I can't hang up the phone, because I don't know how to hang up the phone on somebody who is bawling. And I can already tell that this lady will not qualify for money, but these tests are being ordered by the doctors who make the decisions about these cases, not me. But, more than likely, this lady will receive a letter telling her that she is capable of working someplace and she will not get a check.

When I first started here, I got a long talking-to from my boss, telling me that I was not a social worker. My job was to evaluate people's medical conditions and determine if they were capable of working. I wasn't to care for them, like a social worker would, and it was not to listen to their problems, like a psychologist would. Be impartial. Be fast. Be correct. And remove all emotion from it.

So today, this lady calls me. And she tells me that she's received a letter saying that the taxi will come and pick her up on the day of the exam and take her there. But her question to me is if they cab will allow her husband to come along with her. She tells me that he's driven her to all of her exams, and he doesn't like it when she goes out alone because he's not there to help her out. And she tells me that she likes for him to be there, even if she doesn't need him there, because he's good moral support. And I hear her talking about her ailments, and I know that she's going to start crying, no matter what I tell her.

So I tell her that I'm not in control of the taxi service, as I'm in another state, and I would recommend contacting the taxi service directly and asking them, as I can't help her in that way. She tells me that she has contacted the taxi service and they told her she would be able to take her husband with her in the taxi, and I told her that was a good thing. I tried to remind her that there were good things, like her husband being able to accompany her, and she should focus on the good things. She sighed, and she started telling me about how bad her heart was. And I could tell she was about to cry.

So I asked her if the sun was shining where she was. I know I'm not supposed to do this, but I did it anyway. I know she lives in southern California, so my guess was that the sun was shining where she was and it would be a good thing for her to focus on.

Wouldn't you know, the sun was shining where she was. "It's a beautiful day!" she said, her voice suddenly turning brighter. She talked with her husband in the background. "What's the temperature, do you know? 75? 73?" She came back to me. "It's 75 and just beautiful today." I told her that was a very good thing. "Is it not sunny where you are?" I told her that it wasn't, and she immediately became concerned. I told her it was storming here, and she asked if I was around tornadoes. I told her not at the moment, but some had touched down a little bit ago. She asked if I was alright. She asked if my house was alright. She asked if all my family was alright. I told her everything was fine, but it was important to remember the good things that happen in your life, like having a beautiful day filled with sun. She agreed. I told her to call me anytime if she needed anything. "Well you call me if you need to talk to somebody about tornadoes!" she said to me, laughing, but the concern was still in her voice. And the call ended.

I'm not supposed to ask her if the sun is shining where she is. I'm not supposed to care if she cries. I'm supposed to answer her questions as best as I can and get back to work. I'm supposed to get these cases out as quickly as possible so that people can either get a check or move on to the next step that they're going to take, of which there are many. And the time that I spent with this lady, all told, was less than 5 minutes, sunshine conversation and everything.

But I feel kinda bad that I broke a rule. And I feel kinda bad that there has to be a rule like that. And I feel kinda bad that this lady is in pain, however severe it is. And I feel kinda bad that she's expecting money and probably won't get it.

I'm gonna try to think about what it's like to have a sunshiny day. Maybe that will help.

I'm Not Working

I'm not working.
I should be working.
They're paying me to work.
But I'm not working.

I'm not focused.
I'm spinning out like a VW on a frozen pond.
I'm searching old people I went to school with.
I'm looking up talent agencies.
I'm cyberstalking people to see if they're still acting or in the business.
I'm reading about bands on Wikipedia and following links that I think are interesting.
I'm reading about Eddie Money. His real last name is Mahoney.
I'm searching imdb for this dude I worked with during my undergraduate days.
There's not a current picture of him anywhere.
I'm writing. And it's not work-writing. It's just words sent into a digital pseudoreality.
Just. Words.

I'm not working.
I must be broken.
If I'm not working, then I'm broken.
But I don't want to be fixed.
I want to lay low.
I want to fly under the radar until 5:30 and escape with my life.

I want to shit my pants.
I want to urinate all over my chair.
I want to pull out my eyebrows.
...nah... I don't want to do that. Any of that.
But I do want something to happen so I have a funny story to tell on Letterman.
About the days when I was working for the government.
And how the benefits were good.
And you think your job is secure, but it's not really.
And you were thinking that your career was dead.
And you would never go anyplace.
Especially that one day that I shat my pants at work.
Or whatever it is that I want to have happen.

I'm thinking about chocolate cake.
And how I should brush my teeth more.
And taking a shower.
And my wife's private parts.
And the musical stylings of Saul Williams.
And how I can hear people outside my cubicle and how I wish they would shut up.
And farting.
And how the lead singer of Crash Test Dummies said that his voice was low because he has 3 balls.
And sweaty pits.
And buses that aren't the right bus.
And hair.
And sleep.
And plasma.
And health care.
And studio space.
And getting my contacts organized.

This.
Is not.
Work.

I'm hoping that by putting it all out here like this, I'll be able to get back to work.
I'll be productive.
Like the movies want me to be.
Like the fairy tales tell me I should be.
Like all the rhetoric and blah-blah-blah-BLAH.
I'll get something done and then the world will shine with productivity smiles.

But I hate all that.
Not like rageful hate.
Just hate, like when you step in a random puddle of somebody's spittle.
"Oh, man, I hate walking in somebody elses spit."
And then you walk it off on the pavement and go into Wal-mart like a good little consumer.

Diabetes mellitus.
Peripheral neuropathy.
Onion burgers with aged Swiss.
831 printouts.

Fuck.

Today is not going by quickly.
Today is dragging.
Today.
I am not working.
Today I'm broken.

I'm ready for bed now.
And I'll stay asleep for two and a half years.
And when I wake up, I'll have $100,000 in the bank that will just be there.
And I'll be 100 pounds lighter.
And my hair will be back on the top of my head and out of my ears.
And I'll have a six-pack of abs.
And the sun will lightly glide down my cheek in the morning when I wake up.

Deep breath.
Deep. Deep breath.

Going to give this work-thing a second chance now.
Gonna try to work.
Gonna try to win the gold.

"Dr. Disney"

I work closely with a man I will call Dr. Disney (that's not his real name).

He's a man of about 60 years of age who acts about 30 years of age. He's about 5'7" with a head of closely-cut white hair, a reddish-round face, and small, circular-rimmed glasses that are loose at the hinges. He pulls those glasses on and off his face several times a minute, and he never misses an opportunity to smile. He used to be in the Air Force, and his degree in college was in Theatre. He's got pictures of his wife around his office, and, in word and deed, he is very much in love with her. They took a trip to the tropics recently, and showed me a slide show of his vacation on his laptop. He often stops by my office to talk with me about something or nothing. His shoulders are slightly hunched over his neck, giving his back a small, rounded appearance. He and I have shared laughs together at work, something that isn't easy to do at my job. He knows my name and respects the work I do, and the feeling is reciprocated. When I have to talk with a doctor, I choose to talk with Dr. Disney first. He makes work easy and is great fun.

Normally when I go to see him in his office, he's waiting for me by reading something on line. He could be reading about Elizabeth Taylor's death, or about the atmosphere of Jupiter. You never know with Dr. Disney, but it's usually interesting and he'll tell you about whatever he's doing with a lilt in his voice, as if he's happy to have found this tidbit on life and it will sustain him for at least the next 30 minutes to an hour, or longer if he doesn't find another joyous tidbit of life... which he always does.

Today I went to see him and he was red-faced. More red than usual. As I smiled and sat down with him, he wiped his face downward several times with his broad, wrinkled palm, as if he was trying to erase something that was written across his face. I noticed his eyes were a little teary. I asked him how he was doing. He sighed a deep, heavy breath.
"Well," his voice was softer than normal, "I found out that I have to say something that isn't the truth or else pay over one hundred thousand dollars."

I had a moment that I've never experienced before. I was neither excited nor nervous. I wasn't depressed or anxious. I simply didn't know what to say, but at the same time, I wasn't trying to think of anything to say. I was hovering without emotion or judgement. I had just stopped. It was almost as if my mind was catching up with the number-- one hundred thousand dollars-- and I had to stop to wait for my brain to get there. I was okay with the number "one". I can do that. Then the "hundred", I'm still okay with that. I've had some good birthday gifts of cash in my day. I can understand the "hundred". Then the "thousand". I think I know what that is, I mean it's one hundred plus one zero, right? But before my head put a picture to the number, Dr. Disney had added the word "dollars". And that's where I just stopped.

Um... what?

I sat and looked at him for what was only a fraction of a second, but in my head this moment stretched out in front of me without end, like a highway in the middle of a road trip. It's too far to fathom how much further it stretches in front of you. It's too far to turn around and go back home. You've got to keep going.

"That really sucks," I said, with as much heart-felt empathy as I could muster.
"Yeah," he sputtered a little. "And it's one of those times when you realize that there is no fair, there is no justice, and sometimes the good doesn't win and sometimes the right doesn't win. And it hurts when you have to deal with those moments." And he made this gesture with his hand, as if he was catching his heart as it popped out of his chest, and I believed that his heart might have leaped out of his body from the pressure of the sadness he was trying to repress.
"I hate seeing you like this, Dr. Disney," I said, feeling like a child who wants to comfort his parent about something he doesn't understand or couldn't comprehend were he to be told.
"It's okay," he said. "I'll get over it. It's just..." He had something else to say. He wanted to talk more. And maybe it was our cursory friendship that stopped him, or that we were supposed to be working rather than dealing with his personal life. But I could tell he wanted to go on.
"Is it something you can tell me about?"
"Well, it's just that... I hate when... There are... It just hurts. I'll get over it."
We finished up our work. He shook my hand. He smiled. And then I left his office.

I wanted to tell him about my issues with court. How my wife and I are going through similar issues. I wanted him to know that he wasn't the only person going through Justice and Right V. Wrong issues. He wasn't the only person who was dealing with paying tons of cash to get the truth to light. Maybe I should've. Maybe it would help him to know that he's not alone. I know it would help me. It would help my wife. I don't know why it helps to know that other people are struggling with this same, odd, almost undefinable issue of trying to allow the truth to see the light.

Why have we created a world where you have to pay money to hear the truth? If you're not rich, it seems the lies win. All the virtues I was taught in kindergarten don't seem relevant. In fact, if you hold on to those virtues, it feels like you're at a distinct disadvantage in life.

Dr. Disney is a good man. I wish I could fix him. I wish that he could fix me and my wife. I wish it would all go away and I wouldn't have to sit here weighted with this shit. But here I sit. And there he sits. And there's nothing either of us can do except keep driving on this road trip road and hope that the hotel at the end has a really good pool and a cool air conditioner and something good to watch on HBO.

beat on me

beating beating worthless feeding
never knowing never needing
bleeding bleeding helpless feeling
crouching creeping always kneeling
seeding seeding aimless pleading
kneading greeting shoot the ceiling
stealing fleeting fleeing meeting
sealing seeing steering screaming
creaming beating broken steaming
scalding crossing crunching creeting
beat on me beat on me beat on me
dripping dropping hope is stopping
offer pending hoping ending
groping crapping downhill sloping
strongly stiffing breaking bending
beat on me beat on me beat on me

Don't Fight The Rain

Monster living outside your door
Roaring to shake the ground
Beating his chest so run away
A hideout where you can't be found

Monster living outside your door
Banging his words around
What he says won't leave a bruise
But still it beats you down

I get so still
I get so scared
And I get so tired
Just putting up my hands
To protect my head

Monster living outside my door
Stomping cracks into my floor
Nothing makes him stop
My sin was being born

I am so still
I don't move
And I am so tired
What is he trying to prove

Movies and books
Tell fairy tales
Of people who get to be free
They struggle
To break from the pressing thumb
These stories aren't me

Monster breathing outside my door
Waiting to eat me whole
Monster breathing outside my head
Monster breathing his words in my head
Monster seething his words in my head
Devouring my soul
Don't try to pull me out
It's safer in my hole
I'll stay in my hole.

Don't breathe
Don't speak
Don't bleed
Don't eat
Don't blink
Don't look
Don't think
Don't push
Don't walk
Don't sit
Don't stand
Don't fight
Just go limp
Just stay limp
Don't fight the rain
Just stay down
It's all I can do
To just stay down

Don't fight the rain
It'll wear you down
Find someplace to hide
He'll wear you down