Author: admin

My Own Podcast?

I’m thinking of starting my own podcast. The theme is Keeping It Real with my thoughts and my take on people’s problems. For example, I saw a SEAL’s podcast where he gave shitty advice to a regular citizen on how to handle a gang on a city bus. How the fuck would he know? Warrior, yes, street crime, no.

The advice would be from my perspective, take it or leave it. It would definitely be a point of view you usually don’t hear, Marines, Green Berets, 25 years in Max custody after college. Real advice, not the licensed politically correct bullshit from someone who’s never been there.

What got me thinking about this was I was talking with a very smart 40 year old female friend about a guy who wrote to an online magazine for advice. He was married 25 years, after his wife had kids the sex stopped, zero, nada. She actually told him, “That part of my life is over.” Then she caught and ridiculed him for masturbating. He started to get massages to relax and discovered a few women who would give him happy endings. He rotates between them for release. Should he tell his wife and discuss, or feel guilty? FUCK NO!

My female friend says I should start a podcast. With real life advice from my perspective, obviously way different than what anyone else will tell you. The advice the married guy got from the magazine was to tell his wife. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! She already ridiculed him. Fuck that. My initial thought was that she made her feelings clear, no sex ever again at all. That plus the ridicule, I’d advise a divorce. But he wanted to stay married for the kids & somehow likes her otherwise (ok?), so stay married, get the rub & tugs and don’t tell. If she finds out, deal with it then. Life is short.

Now, obviously, not everyone agrees on everything, especially with where I’m coming from. But think of it as simply another perspective. For example, since I had two hard corps Angels as friends in prison, just for fun, I sometimes ask myself, “What would a Hell’s Angel do in this situation?”

I had a gas station clerk I chatted with once a week smart off to me one time. He was being a real asshole. Could I take him one on one? Of course. But, what would a Hell’s Angel do? He’d go get two more Angels, come back, jump over the counter and stomp the fuck outta this guy.

Would that be appropriate? Well, in some ways, yes, the guy is a little fucking pussy who never learned to mind his manners. It’s all on a spectrum. Usually (outside of prison, if you get my drift) I would never react the way an Angel would. They are crazy violent.

But it’s good to have another perspective to make your own decision. So what did I do? Well, I let the guy know his behavior was unacceptable in no uncertain terms and terminated the relationship, changed gas stations. Anything else would have led to the cops having a field day. Fortunately for everyone, the guy really was a complete pussy & didn’t do anything after that which required a response. By the way, remember that cop who falsely arrested me saying I threatened her? After I was acquitted I sued her. It’s looking good! Best guess is a win & $250K. Totally legit, that’s the best way to fuck ’em.

The gang in the bus? The SEAL’s advice to the citizen was, when they look at him, to acknowledge, then read a paper. If they want to talk, say he’s just going home. Fuck no! That advice will get you jacked up quick. When five gang members are staring at you on public transportation after midnite you are about to get fucked up. Any small talk is them sizing you up before they pounce.

The SEAL did say to plan your way home if you know it’s going to be late, take an Uber, that was good advice. But, if you get approached by a gang, here’s my advice: You’ve been listening to me from the beginning and already have a permit & a 1911. So you stick it in the leader’s face with no hesitation and get off the bus.

If you aren’t smart and don’t have a gun with you at all times, well then, it’s going to be tough. The only thing gang members understand is fear. You literally have to scare the fuck out of them. They are predators, they can tell if you got what it takes.

Option B: You already listened to me and studied Jiu Jitsu or Kung Fu. So you fuck up the leader in 1 second in such a horrifying way that no one else even wants to think about fucking with you. Then you get off the bus. Getting a permit & a 1911 sounds easy now, doesn’t it?

Remember, I said this is all just for perspective. You can do whatever you want. And less than 1% of anyone who reads this will ever prepare themselves for anything and then be stunned when they are a victim. So, there it is, Keeping It Real.

Podcast?

North Central College, Sexual Assaults, and YOU

First of all, who the fuck am I to be talking about North Central College? Well, my story with NCC starts when I got out of prison, and wanted to go back to college, get a graduate degree, and finish law school.

The whole time I was in prison, the way I see it, unjustly convicted for murder in what was actually self defense, I made plans for when I got out. I already had a college degree from UIC in Chicago, and had started law school before prison. I figured a good way to ease back into society would be to take some college classes, maybe psychology, etc, and get a graduate degree, or two, and my JD. Show that, hey, that really was a wrongful conviction, I’m an honorable guy, and I just want to succeed. Plus, get back in the swing of things in a relaxed environment with educated, friendly people. Right?

I got an NCC catalog, and saw that they had a “Master’s of Leadership”, which included classes on social reform and how to implement reform through non-profit organizations. Great! Right up my alley after doing twenty plus years for no reason. I apply, and long story short, get completely fucked around by Pamela Monaco, Dean of Graduate Admissions at the College. Plus, some fuckhole named Kevin McCarthy sends me a really shitty letter claiming I attended classes without permission (false, I sat in on some classes with full instructor permission, never being told not to), AND telling me I’ll be arrested if I ever step foot on the campus again.

So, naturally, being a United States Marine and otherwise a guy who doesn’t take shit, especially from lying, cowardly assholes, I protest my treatment. I drive on public streets that run through the College, and as I’m immediately followed by the Campus Security, I photograph them. NCC Security calls the Naperville Police and they swarm me, yelling, and accuse me of trespassing. I wasn’t, everything I did was legal, so they have to let me go. But, some total piece of shit Naperville cop named Kamis sends an alert bulletin THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE STATE that I am super dangerous and blah, blah, blah. They also call my parole agent and I get months and months of strict house arrest. Nice.

So, I wait until a few days before I’m off parole, and then start passing out flyers right in front of the most popular area of campus that I can legally access, on the sidewalk in front of K-man, the dining hall. Naturally, the police are called multiple times, the campus security issues a bulletin (Do Not Approach. Call 911.), but nobody can do shit.

One significant thing that happened is that after a few days of protesting, a girl who is a student at NCC comes up to me and tells me that she really appreciates what I’m doing, BECAUSE she was sexually assaulted by a male student, a college athlete, and when she reported it to the College, they had a hearing, and determined that their athlete DID NOT commit sexual assault. After he got off, the athlete would make fun of her and taunt her whenever he saw her on campus. WHAT THE FUCK. She knows firsthand how the College treats people, and she sympathizes with me and what I’m saying.

I add her story to my protests, put it on my flyers (printouts of my Twitter). Because the mistreatment of human beings by North Central College is what the fuck I’m bitching about, and this is just another fucking example. Soon, I find out that she’s not the only one. There have been other girls who have complained to the College about being sexually assaulted by NCC students and nothing was done. Plus, other people have been mistreated in other ways, sometimes by the same fuckholes that have tried to fuck me. I ramp up my protests.

Does this mean I have anything against the students at NCC? No, of course not. With the exception of a few misguided, immature, internet trolls, and, of course, the rapists, the students at NCC are great! The teachers that I saw teach in the classroom are great! The Administration is the problem. Covering up sexual assaults and horrible behavior on their part is what they have done, and that’s inexcusable. Troy Hammond, the President of the College, does zero about it. I asked him in person what he’s going to do–no answer, no acknowledgement.

So what’s the answer? Address the fucking problem! That’s the fucking answer! Maybe instead of spending money on lawyers and energy to deny everything (yes, they did that), how ’bout setting up a formal office where students can go when they’ve been assaulted? Made up of students and counselors? Educate the student body on what has taken place in the past, and work on preventing it in the future.

I don’t expect anything like that to ever happen, so here’s my advice to every female student. Yeah, advice from a guy with a murder conviction. A guy who has been trained in the Marines and US Army Special Forces, but much more importantly, been in max prisons for decades with violent assholes.

  • Be aware of your surroundings at all times. Know who’s behind you, and you should look at anyone within 50 to 100 feet of you. See anything suspicious? Get ready to respond.
  • Don’t be alone with a guy you don’t know that well. Meet him for a date, in a busy, public place.
  • Take friends with you wherever you go.
  • Learn JuJitsu. Find a good martial arts place and go once a week. Some are too hardcore, some are useless. Look around and find a good one.
  • Get pepper spray. Police equipment store.
  • Guy tries anything, kick the balls, poke the eyes with your fingers.
  • Know that, unfortunately, when the shit hits the fan, sometimes you are on your own. Are you ready? Watch this YouTube video showing how a woman fought off an attacker, and you can too: https://youtu.be/N9LRH6qj7j0

Kindred Cop

I’m at the Mobil station, and I see what looks like a Parole Agent gassing up. Now, the Parole Agent I had for most of my parole was a total asshole, doing things like putting me on house arrest for nine months because I was peacefully protesting my treatment by North Central College (a move that was overturned when I appealed to the Parole Board, but only after seven of the nine months had passed), giving me a hard time about going to the Doctor, pleading ignorance about mistakes on my rap sheet, and just generally being a rude jagoff.

So, I go up to this guy and ask him if he’s a Parole Agent. I was going to tell him to give my former agent the message that he can get fucked, but as we started to talk, this guy was speaking in a way that most in his position don’t, with intelligence and candor.

It turns out that this guy used to be a Correctional Officer at Stateville, and he was there at the same time I was. He had known a few of the prisoners that I knew, Eisenberg for one, and he was tight with a Hell’s Angel I was friends with. The main thing was that this guy understood the absolutely horrific situation he and I had both been in. It was life or death, every fucking day, for anyone in there. A man had to actually back up anything he said or did. I asked him if that experience affected him now, the way he looked at things, the way he lived his life, the way he conducted himself. Yes, on all counts.

I told him how hard it is for me to find anyone that can comprehend the enormity of it all. How practically no one can understand it. He knew.

And on top of that, he related to me how he treats people in his job with courtesy, respect, and compassion, giving me examples of various situations and problems he’s dealt with. He noted how a lot of cops act like complete assholes, not having the knowledge or experience that he and I both have. We also discussed just how full of shit so many authority figures are. We were in complete agreement on everything.

I was glad I met this guy, it showed me that I’m not the only one to see how it really is. It gave me perspective of the situation, like a calming breath, knowing that another person out here knows what the fuck is really going on in the twilight between the naive world most people inhabit and the ugly reality just beneath the surface.

#MeToo?

So I’m in this bar in Naperville after Ribfest. I recognize this girl I met in there before, I talk to her and meet her girlfriends. We sit at a table, multiple conversations going on. At one point, the girls leave the table we’re at and go to the ladies room in the back. I go up to the bar to get another cranberry juice. The bartender is busy, I look around for the other bartenders, they have disappeared. Kind of weird. Nobody is manning their stations.

Finally, I get another drink, I go back to the table, and the girls come back. When they sit down, one of the girls starts telling the others how one of the bartenders just tried to rape her in the basement.

WHAT?!? Her friends are shocked. The girl says, yes, the bartender just took her into a room in the basement, took his dick out, and said, “You want me to stick it in you?”

WHEN?! Just now, she says. While you were in the bathroom. He pulled me into a room in the basement. I was lucky to get out of there.

“You need to report this right now!”, says one of the friends. I’m watching this whole conversation from across the table. I offer that I know everyone who works there, not friends necessarily, just acquaintances, and there’s the owner right over there if you want to talk to him. I think of mentioning the cops, but hold off to see what happens.

The girl this happened to says, no, and reminds the others of how the other time they were there, she walked with the same bartender to her car, and made out with him. And they’ve been texting. So, she won’t be believed about what just happened tonite. The other girls see her point, but are disgusted.

What’s the right thing for me to do in this situation? Anything? I don’t really know these girls, I’ve been in this bar maybe 20 times, and am familiar with everyone. What she’s saying doesn’t surprise me, I could imagine it being true. At the same time, she’s drunk, and a mess. I wasn’t there, so…..

After the girls leave in an hour, I have a word with the bartender in question. Now, I’m a cool guy, seen a lot of shit, and see different sides of an issue, right? I advise the bartender, who I’m cool with, what the girl said, and I tell him that I just want to let him know, as a friend, what’s going on. I figure that if he was guilty of anything, this would warn him to lay off, people are aware. And at the same time, if it was really her playing games, then he now knows to be careful, to not mess with her so he doesn’t end up wrongfully accused. Best of both worlds?

Eisenberg

Here’s an excerpt from one of the books I’m working on:

I met Eisenberg in the chapel so we could talk.

The chapel was a good place to meet, we could sit in the foyer and talk in private without anyone bothering us. A small hallway off the foyer led to a few offices for the chaplain and chapel administrators, when they were working back there the front door to the chapel would be open and we could get in. There were two small benches ninety degrees to each other, Eisenberg took one, I took the other.

We talked about girls, he related how after he had done his first bit, five years at Menard for aggravated battery on a chick, he went back to college. He was in great shape then after five years of working out, not like now, and had no problem meeting girls. He said he met one particular girl at school, they went out for a while, then it ended. I asked him what happened. He said, “I slapped her.”

He told me about how he got his present murder case. He was in a hotel with a girl, they were doing drugs. He fell asleep. When he woke up, he saw that she had done all the drugs, and he got pissed off. “I hit her five times,” he said. That killed her.

“She had a preexisting medical condition,” he said without further elaboration. He got fifty years.

When he talked to the presentencing counselor assigned by the court to sum up his life, he cried while talking about the girl dying. With annoyance, Eisenberg said that in the report, the counselor wrote that Eisenberg had cried “crocodile tears”.

Eisenberg told me that he talked to the prison doctor about quitting smoking, and the doctor told him not to bother, it was too late, his heart was done for. Under the law that he had been sentenced under, Eisenberg would have to do twenty-five years. He was fifty years old then, five years into his sentence, with a bad heart. He knew he wouldn’t make it. He had a wistful, resigned look on his face.

We got up, it was time to go back to the grind.

Savage Code

My name is Savage. That’s the name I got in prison from members of the Hell’s Angels and Outlaws motorcycle gangs. I was in prison for over twenty years because of an unjust conviction.

When I was arrested, I was part way through law school, had an Honorable discharge from the United States Marine Corps, had spent time in an Army Green Beret unit, and had a job lined up as a Chicago cop. I was planning on working in the CPD Gang Crime Unit while finishing law school, because I hated gang members as much as I hated drug dealers, and then starting my own law practice or continuing with the police.

Instead, I spent the next twenty plus years in maximum security prisons, experiencing and somehow surviving things you’ve never imagined.

Think about what it would be like for you, in the life you are living right now, to be suddenly and forcibly taken away from everything you know, accused of things you have never done, have half of your so-called friends and society turn against you, and then be sentenced to prison for decades.

And that’s only the beginning. Next, you find yourself in prison–maximum security. A maximum security prison is a very harsh place. It isn’t like hell, it is hell.

But I survived it, I grew stronger. Despite all the horrific obstacles, I never compromised myself in prison, and I refuse to compromise myself now that I’m out. I followed my own personal code then, and I’m going to follow it now. Is that a problem?