That’s Why
I'm on death row because the government wanted me there
Convicted without evidence
Guilty of conspiracy--a trick used when no evidence exists
I alone was convicted
Only one person conspiring? With who?
No, guilty of conspiracy by me and one-or-more-unnamed conspirators
Yes, that's a thing
Appeals judged in the light most favorable to the government
Of course! Fence-sitters beware
They'll get you if they want you
If you're charged, it's not
--Innocent till proven guilty, nor
--Guilty till proven innocent--it's just
--Guilty--so, forget the rest
I will die as collateral damage
Of someone's populist agenda
And will help my murderers
Get elected
And reap the love and admiration
Of those who label problems with a myopiscope
Allowing detritus like me to fall through invented cracks of connivance
Justice Vibrates: The Shallow Gene Pool Story
I didn't mean for this to happen and I never wanted anyone to get hurt. All I wanted to do was stand up for my fellow citizens. I got tired of watching our elected officials enrich themselves at the expense of the people they're sworn to serve. Instead of being servants to the people, politicians have become nothing more than Armani and Versace clad whores to lobbyists, special interests, and corporations. They enjoy massive salaries, free health care, and kick backs from corporations and special interests who have no interest in securing the freedoms and welfare of the people. Meanwhile, their electorate suffers. Children go hungry, the elderly go without medical care, veterans go without mental health services and housing, and the Kardashians are still allowed to procreate. Conservative or Liberal, they all tell the lies, make promised they have no intention of keeping, and they all have agendas that run contrary to the needs of the people they represent. The only difference between Conservative or Liberal is they just wrap their duplicity and bullshit in different colored paper. It was time to take a stand.
My plan was simple, but expensive. After emptying my 401k, I purchased 546 Bum Plumber Butt Plugs with three speed vibrating action (FYI you can buy sex toys in bulk and get a volume discount). This was enough to provide everyone in congress, the supreme court, and executive branch with a Bum Plumber. I also purchased batteries for each anal joy buzzer because I've always hated getting a gift that requires batteries without the needed batteries. I then packaged each Bum Plumer and batteries for mailing and included a note to the government official that read:
"We the people of the United States have been betrayed by you and the other public servants who were elected or sworn to serve us. This gift is meant promote a sense of empathy in you and your fellow elected officials because you should feel the same ass-tearing pain your constituents feel when you fuck us with the razor wire wrapped shaft made of broken promises, failed legal protections, and unmet basic human needs. Please enjoy this gift from your constituents and feel free to go fuck yourselves. Sincerely, Shallow Gene Pool and the American people you have fucked without the benefit of lube or breakfast the day after."
I then mailed my little presents to every elected official in Washington. It was meant to be a harmless symbolic gesture. I had no idea that the recipients would actually USE the Bum Plumbers. Unfortunately, the enthusiastic use of the gifted anal stimulators caused several deaths. The medical examiners placed the cause of death in two categories.
1. Cardiac issues. Since many Bum Plumber recipients were of advanced age, when used, the jackhammer like vibration of the plug led to cardiac arrest. I guess the Bum Plumber should come with a warning label similar to those used for rollercoasters. "Those with the following conditions should not ride: Heart conditions or abnormal blood pressure, expectant and unexpectant mothers, and those with a medical sensitivity to probe effects." Sadly, the Bum Plumber proved to be a bipartisan killer ending the lives of amongst others, Mitch McConnell, Republican Kentucky and Bernie Sanders, Democratic-Socialist, Vermont. You would think they would know better because they're both old enough to have taught the Virgin Mary's Lamaze classes. I guess wisdom doesn't always come with age.
2. Bowel obstruction. Some users of the Bum Plumer were too aggressive and the vibrating butt plug migrated further into their bum plumbing than is recommended. Fearing that the use of a the Bum Plumber may be leaked to the media and hurting the chance of being reelected, those in this category failed to seek medical attention to treat their self-imposed anal retention. Without timely treatment, the Bum Plumber induced bowel obstruction eventually led to the rupturing of intestines which led to death. Marjorie Taylor Greene, Republican Georgia's autopsy showed that the Bum Plumber dug into her intestines like a Georgia tick on a fat hound dog. The other congresswoman of note who died due to butt plug related blockage was Lauren Boebert, Republican Colorado. It appears that the Bum Plumber traveled Rocky Mountain high up her ass and into her intestines. Neither congresswoman sought medical attention and no one noticed that they were ill because on their best day, they looked like they had a traffic cone strategically shoved up their poop shoot. One bowel obstruction Bum Plumber fatality that I was wrongfully charged with was that of former president, Bill Clinton. I didn't even send him a Bum Plumber! Bill's cause of death is a tragic but unsurprising coincidence, I swear!
Unfortunately, since I used PayPal to pay for the hundreds of the Bum Plumbers, I was quickly made the prime suspect. Still, I was shocked when I was charged with multiple counts of first degree murder. The charge was first degree murder because the prosecution argued that when I included batteries with the surprisingly deadly Bum Plumbers it implied premeditation. Despite having great representation courtesy of a defense fund provided by the good people at K-Y Jelly, I was found guilty and sentenced to Death.
To my surprise, I've become a cult hero and received a commercial spokesperson deal with the Adam and Eve Adult Toy Company. I've also sold the rights to my story to Hollywood. A major motion picture based on my story is ready for release. It's called, " Justice Vibrates: The Shallow Gene Pool Story." Paul "Pee-Wee Herman" Reuben's is going to play me. I'm told it's already getting Oscar buzz.
Death Row isn't so bad. You get your own cell with no fear of involuntary cellmate romance. I'm not worried about the Grim Reeper's needle because thanks to the detailed customer list provided by Adam and Eve I now have appeal leverage on some VERY naughty politicians. A little political quid pro quo and I should be out on parole before Christmas.
Chocolate Icecream
"My final meal?" I ask, "that seems slightly morbid." The guard shrugs. He doesn't care, I wonder how many inmates he's lead to the chair, how many of them have died just inches from him, his face being the last thing they see.
"I didn't do it." I say, pointing to the menu he has offered me, chocolate ice cream with sprinkles, my last meal should at least taste good. The guard shrugs again, perhaps it is all he is capable of. He stands and exits the room, and I am alone with my thoughts, my many many thoughts.
How did it all go so wrong... I place my heavy head in my hands, I can feel the straps tightening round my wrists, the cap placed over my head, and the pulsing of electricity through my very soul. My hands begin to shake, I clasp them together, but that just makes it worse. I begin to rock backward and forward, breaths coming in short bursts. I gulp and choke I can't think can't breathe, am I dying now? That would be merciful I close my eyes and pray to let it all end, two hands grab my shoulders roughly.
"Be still." A voice demands. I am no longer rocking, my shoulders shake though are restrained well by the guard. I turn round, he lets go of me in disgust.
"What happened?" Another guard calls through the door.
"Panic attack." The guard calls back. Crap, I turn away, I wasn't dying. Though I would be soon.
One thing I've always hated is melted ice cream, pity that is what I am handed. The rainbow sprinkles have combined with the melted cream to give an off grey colour. I shove the bowl away; I couldn’t eat even if I wanted to my stomach contracts at the thought of what is to come.
"If you don’t eat," the guard began, "then you’re up for the Chair."
I nod, I know my fate.
The straps tighten, just like I'd imagined, a blind fold placed over my eyes, rough, scratchy fabric, though I won’t have to feel it for much longer.
Mary Jane, you are sentenced to death found guilty by a jury in the court of American law, for the murders of twenty people, including your own family.
I roll my eyes, despite no one being able to see.
"Get on with it." I yell.
"Ok." I hear someone say. A lever screeches as it is pulled, I feel a buzz, a wave of warmth and a boiling a searing hot pain. My head thrashes form side to side, my torso rocks, my legs which are tied down jiggle violently. I hear the machine shut off.
"Ok let’s get her to the morgue."
Why can I still hear? I feel someone pull the blind fold form my eyes.
"Surprise!" I say.
Shit Comes Back To Bite You
Crackheads down South Street...
Runaway train...
Something in her faded leather
Boot is making pain...
She slows and fights dramatically
To readjust her frame...
Fixes the strap, and wobbles on...
Her addict friend slows down...
He's yelling that they must
Keep moving...
Aquire their Mark in town...
That easy John,
Some stupid prick
That drops his guard and cash...
Pants are hanging 'round his ankles
While Luella grabs and hikes...
Leaving him in dire straights
At least for two more nights,
Until he finally grasps
What's really put at risk...
The family farm?...
The sequin charm?...
The smile that was his pitch...
She rolls him for a sucker,
As her junkie pimp
Takes more
Then what she thought that
She was owed...
The scrappings on the floor
Are all the bald head chick
Has spent
For one quick pleasure trip...
Flying like a precious diamond
Over her flesh and clay...
That's her out there,
She threds the fix...
Her boot collects
Loose rocks...
Diamonds on the inside pinching...
Plucking on the skin...
Wind plays her guitar strings...
Discards her at a whim...
Crackheads down South Street...
Runaway train...
Something in her faded leather
Boot is making pain...
She slows and fights dramatically
To readjust her frame...
Fixes the strap, and wobbles on...
...Fixes the strap, and wobbles on...
Bunny Villaire
6/25/23
Edit #2
Jacob Archer, fisherman.
In a land where veganism reigned as the predominant religion, the story of Jacob Archer unfolded. Jacob, a simple man from a small village, found himself on death row for the crime of fishing. As he stood before the court, the only evidence against him was a grainy cell phone video, capturing the moment he reeled in a fish and placed it into a basket. The jury, bound by the laws of the land, was prohibited from hearing of the dire circumstances that led Jacob to cast his line into the forbidden waters.
Jacob's heart ached for his wife and children back home. Their once bountiful garden, intended to sustain them, had fallen victim to a relentless wildlife invasion, leaving his family hungry and desperate. He believed that compassion and reason would prevail, that the court would understand his dire circumstances, and show mercy.
But as the news of his trial spread, the media twisted the narrative, portraying Jacob as a ruthless serial killer, taking pleasure in the suffering of innocent creatures. Social media erupted with condemnation, labeling him a monster, as the sensationalized headlines fanned the flames of outrage.
In the midst of this onslaught, tragedy struck. The news reported the deaths of Jacob's family, stating they had gone on a hunger strike in solidarity with him. But Jacob knew the truth. They had starved to death, their bodies weakened by the lack of sustenance from their once-prosperous garden.
The weight of his family's demise weighed heavily upon Jacob's soul. Fueled by grief and anger, he rebelled against the mockery of justice. He mocked the court, the media, and the society that had turned a blind eye to his family's suffering. He refused to play their game, refusing to give them the satisfaction they craved.
As the day of his execution approached, Jacob studied the liberal laws regarding death row requests. And with defiance burning in his eyes, he made a bold and final demand - he requested one fish as his last meal. A symbolic gesture, an act of rebellion against a system that failed to recognize the basic needs of its people.
Word of Jacob's request spread like wildfire. The media seized upon the opportunity, portraying him as an unrepentant villain, further fueling the public's outrage. But in that moment, Jacob found a flicker of satisfaction, knowing that he had exposed the hypocrisy of a system built on supposed "people's rights."
On the day of his execution, Jacob stood tall, unyielding in the face of his fate. The last image etched into the minds of those who witnessed it was Jacob, his eyes filled with defiance, savoring the taste of the forbidden fish, a final act of resistance against a society that had failed him.
In the end, the story of Jacob Archer would live on, not as the tale of a fisherman on death row, but as a powerful reminder of the complexities of justice, compassion, and the dire consequences that follow when the basic needs of a community are disregarded in the name of rigid ideology.
The Injustice System
A ragged system meant for Justice is all that happened.
Me? All I did was go to a comfort spot of mine at the wrong time.
Was in a soundproofed area, but no one believed that's why I didn't hear the shots.
I must have been covering up for myself by claiming to have not heard gunfire, why else?
My final meal will be nothing. I know they won't make me anything the way I like it, so there's no point. Everyone thinks I'm fasting as a protest, but I just don't want their food. My last meal will have been from the outside, from before everything went wrong. I loved the people who were killed and I was nearly shot dead, but none of that matters because they want a quick resolution and I have no alibi. Let's see what the chair and death are like-
Wait what?
I'm free?!
After everything you did to me,
I get to walk out the door after all?! How- Why- Ohh, I'll ask questions later. Right now I'm starving can I get some decent food?
New Frontier
"Are you sure about this?"
The head guard whispered in my ear again. It is clear that as I approach the execution chamber, everyone is getting increasingly agitated.
Murder. That was the excuse I conjured since the public ought not know my true intention. After all, the mere idea of entering and returning from the afterlife will lead many pious worshippers, conspiracy theorists, and defenders of nature to try and storm the facility.
I was tried in a closed court that only consisted of my fellow scientific colleagues as the jury. The ruling was predetermined: I will be executed by the Experience Machine, which will transport me to the afterlife for an indefinite period of time.
If I am lucky, I would return alive to tell the tale. If not, the machine will be scrapped, and my dead carcass cremated in memory of my sacrifice. While I was hoping that my colleagues could do the honor of sending me to the afterlife, I understand their sentiment of hoping to avoid blood on their hands. Hence, the legal killers of this world will assist me in starting my journey instead.
While my body becomes strapped to the machine, I thought back to my mother, who works as an explorer, and my father, who works as a scientist. Both of their work have tremendous impacts on my life, yet neither know that I am about to embark on an unprecedented journey. Guilt began to well up in me as I think back to them.
"Any last words?" The head guard jokingly asks.
"If I never come back, tell my parents that I am in a new world unbeknownst to any human alive."
"You're making this a lot harder than it needs to be." The head guard sighs before flipping the switch.