I just read this in the 91siccness forum and thought what radied was speakin on(bout prison life) was so real that I hade to post it up in here....cuz we all no the 91siccness forun only has 4 viewers a day and this shit would get passed up....Enjoy
Greetings everyone. Here is the latest report from the Land of the Lost:
My facility is presently on lock down, due to a 57 man riot between the Blacks and Northern Mexicans, on Sunday morning, January 11, 2009. My door just happened to be the last one to open and the yard went off before I ever made it down the stairs. There were about 8 of us left In the day room when the shots started going off, as the officers fired rounds into the crowd, trying to get it under control. The eight of us looked at each other wearily. I could tell one of them, a Mexican, was nervous, and another, a Black, was angry. There was tension, as we sat down on the floor, as instructed by an officer in the observation tower above us, pointing a Mini 14 rifle at us. I could tell everyone was debating whether or not to getup and fight. But why? And who? I analyzed the situation and registered the threat level at 3 out of 10. If the Black man next to me would fight, I figured the two of us would have no problem handling whoever had a problem, if they had one. At 225 pounds, with 19 inch biceps, even at 5’9” I was bigger and stronger than everyone sitting there. I could still feel the anxiety in my stomach, none the less. I could smell the fear and see the apprehension, and they were making me nervous. And I’m hard to make nervous.
At some point, the officer seemed to realize that he needed to get us out of that day room, so he ordered us to get up and lock it down, and covered us with his rifle as we went back to our cells.
It’s a blessing that I didn’t make it out there because I would have gotten caught up in that madness at a time when I need to be able to handle what is important to me. Yet that is the nature of prison life on a level four, maximum security facility. I was just writing a friend, Dane, about the realities of prison life, explaining the differences in security levels to him. Usually, our favorite rappers go to prison with short sentences, and the way security levels work, they would usually go to an institution that was level 1, 2, or 3, at worst, but they will talk as if they have been in a level 4, maximum security war zone. I am here to say, don’t believe the hype. If your favorite rappers really went to prison, not the county jail or a ranch or a camp, but to the penitentiary, with sentences of 10 years or more, they would be asking the officers to send them straight to protective custody, for things just like this. And I’m not hating. They would probably need it, without any fault of their own. If 50 cent went to prison and he was given 10 years or more, he would be on the yard with men who had both life and indeterminate sentences, or extremely lengthy sentences, and there is a hopelessness in those men that breeds a lack of logic and defies all reason. And that’s because it is difficult to expect a man who has no reason to live, in the form of purpose, to have any reason, in the form of logic So 50 Cent, or whoever, in California, at least, would be in an environment where everyone would want a piece of him, including the officers. Don’t confuse this with the Hollywood stereotypes about prison life. It’s not about anyone being victimized sexually, which happens, but only to the weakest of the weak, unaffiliated floaters. No. 50 Cent would have to play a game of Survivor, for real. Who are your allies? Who are your enemies? Do you stand alone? Now, if you align yourself with one group, then their enemies automatically become your enemies. And there is no such thing as standing alone, because, when racial riots kick off, your race is your affiliation, so your race’s enemies are your enemies, just for being born Black. Either you want to play that game or you do not, but the game will be played, with your consent or without. And that’s why 50 Cent would be in protective custody. He would say, and be told by the administration, that the game has nothing to do with him and that he does not want to participate... they would encourage him to accept placement at a facility where the attention he attracts could be neutralized and maybe he could have some peace. And he would accept that suggestion. It’s easy for them to lie to you on their records because they will never go to prison, so it’s all theoretical. If Shyne could do it all again, he would not have fired those shots, because he would not have been at that club, and he wouldn’t have been strapped. Like Jay-Z said, “I ain’t gotta do it, my boy’ll shoot you.” A real boss wouldn’t need to be a gunman, he would be sending the gunmen. And that doesn’t even always work. Ask John Gotti and Sammy the Bull. If all of us could do it all again, we wouldn’t be incarcerated. No one of sound mind would choose this life intentionally.
The same goes for me. If I could go back and do it all again, a real boss ... you get the picture. I would never have chosen this life if I had known everything it entailed. Now that am here and this Is what I have to deal with, regardless of my desires ... I have to do what have to do. Ask Darwin if it’s kill or be killed if you don’t believe me. Survival of the fittest, for real.
So we’re on lock down, for who knows how long, and by the grace of God I missed the riot and wasn’t a participant. If my door had opened two minutes earlier, I’d have been out there, caught up in drama that would have had nothing to do with me, and I’d be in administrative segregation, The Hole, trying to explain to my family why I was in shackles and chains in 24 hour lock-up at a time in my life when I clearly have identified right from wrong and mature from immature. Have that conversation with your girl or mother from behind three inch thick bulletproof glass, wearing shackles, manacles and chains, like It’s 1809 and you’re about to be bought or sold. Maybe Nas was right. If it means ignorant, that would have made me a nigger. Ask a Merriam-Webster.
The irony. This placed is called Pleasant Valley State Prison, and I am here to tell you with first hand knowledge, there is nothing pleasant about it, and It has the highest rate of incidents in the entire California Department of Corrections. Higher than the infamous Pelican Bay and Folsom State Prisons. Google it and call me a liar if that’s what I deserve.
The riot? It happened over a Black guy high off of pills and a Mexican drunk off of pruno, arguing during a basketball game, where the winner would have gotten a couple of generic 2 liter sodas worth about $2.50 on the street. The end result? 57 Mexican and Black men proceed to stab, slice, kick and punch each other, shots are fired, pepper spray and batons come out and the officers risk their lives, running out in the middle of it trying to lay it all down. Over a couple of intoxicated men and a game of basketball. Who knows what will happen when we come off of lock down. Round 2? Everyone Is anxious to find out. I think it’s hilarious, in a Heath Ledger as the Joker sort of way.
Your favorite rapper is a liar. Do not believe him. Listen to me, children. Take my word for it. Do. Not. Go. To. Prison. Period. Prison is not cool. Stay out of trouble. Graduate. Make love. Hustle and get money. Make babies. Raise them. Be like Barack. Organize your community. Whatever. Just stay free. Please.
Dear God, let the record reflect, I told them.
Anerae Brown, ©2009"
Greetings everyone. Here is the latest report from the Land of the Lost:
My facility is presently on lock down, due to a 57 man riot between the Blacks and Northern Mexicans, on Sunday morning, January 11, 2009. My door just happened to be the last one to open and the yard went off before I ever made it down the stairs. There were about 8 of us left In the day room when the shots started going off, as the officers fired rounds into the crowd, trying to get it under control. The eight of us looked at each other wearily. I could tell one of them, a Mexican, was nervous, and another, a Black, was angry. There was tension, as we sat down on the floor, as instructed by an officer in the observation tower above us, pointing a Mini 14 rifle at us. I could tell everyone was debating whether or not to getup and fight. But why? And who? I analyzed the situation and registered the threat level at 3 out of 10. If the Black man next to me would fight, I figured the two of us would have no problem handling whoever had a problem, if they had one. At 225 pounds, with 19 inch biceps, even at 5’9” I was bigger and stronger than everyone sitting there. I could still feel the anxiety in my stomach, none the less. I could smell the fear and see the apprehension, and they were making me nervous. And I’m hard to make nervous.
At some point, the officer seemed to realize that he needed to get us out of that day room, so he ordered us to get up and lock it down, and covered us with his rifle as we went back to our cells.
It’s a blessing that I didn’t make it out there because I would have gotten caught up in that madness at a time when I need to be able to handle what is important to me. Yet that is the nature of prison life on a level four, maximum security facility. I was just writing a friend, Dane, about the realities of prison life, explaining the differences in security levels to him. Usually, our favorite rappers go to prison with short sentences, and the way security levels work, they would usually go to an institution that was level 1, 2, or 3, at worst, but they will talk as if they have been in a level 4, maximum security war zone. I am here to say, don’t believe the hype. If your favorite rappers really went to prison, not the county jail or a ranch or a camp, but to the penitentiary, with sentences of 10 years or more, they would be asking the officers to send them straight to protective custody, for things just like this. And I’m not hating. They would probably need it, without any fault of their own. If 50 cent went to prison and he was given 10 years or more, he would be on the yard with men who had both life and indeterminate sentences, or extremely lengthy sentences, and there is a hopelessness in those men that breeds a lack of logic and defies all reason. And that’s because it is difficult to expect a man who has no reason to live, in the form of purpose, to have any reason, in the form of logic So 50 Cent, or whoever, in California, at least, would be in an environment where everyone would want a piece of him, including the officers. Don’t confuse this with the Hollywood stereotypes about prison life. It’s not about anyone being victimized sexually, which happens, but only to the weakest of the weak, unaffiliated floaters. No. 50 Cent would have to play a game of Survivor, for real. Who are your allies? Who are your enemies? Do you stand alone? Now, if you align yourself with one group, then their enemies automatically become your enemies. And there is no such thing as standing alone, because, when racial riots kick off, your race is your affiliation, so your race’s enemies are your enemies, just for being born Black. Either you want to play that game or you do not, but the game will be played, with your consent or without. And that’s why 50 Cent would be in protective custody. He would say, and be told by the administration, that the game has nothing to do with him and that he does not want to participate... they would encourage him to accept placement at a facility where the attention he attracts could be neutralized and maybe he could have some peace. And he would accept that suggestion. It’s easy for them to lie to you on their records because they will never go to prison, so it’s all theoretical. If Shyne could do it all again, he would not have fired those shots, because he would not have been at that club, and he wouldn’t have been strapped. Like Jay-Z said, “I ain’t gotta do it, my boy’ll shoot you.” A real boss wouldn’t need to be a gunman, he would be sending the gunmen. And that doesn’t even always work. Ask John Gotti and Sammy the Bull. If all of us could do it all again, we wouldn’t be incarcerated. No one of sound mind would choose this life intentionally.
The same goes for me. If I could go back and do it all again, a real boss ... you get the picture. I would never have chosen this life if I had known everything it entailed. Now that am here and this Is what I have to deal with, regardless of my desires ... I have to do what have to do. Ask Darwin if it’s kill or be killed if you don’t believe me. Survival of the fittest, for real.
So we’re on lock down, for who knows how long, and by the grace of God I missed the riot and wasn’t a participant. If my door had opened two minutes earlier, I’d have been out there, caught up in drama that would have had nothing to do with me, and I’d be in administrative segregation, The Hole, trying to explain to my family why I was in shackles and chains in 24 hour lock-up at a time in my life when I clearly have identified right from wrong and mature from immature. Have that conversation with your girl or mother from behind three inch thick bulletproof glass, wearing shackles, manacles and chains, like It’s 1809 and you’re about to be bought or sold. Maybe Nas was right. If it means ignorant, that would have made me a nigger. Ask a Merriam-Webster.
The irony. This placed is called Pleasant Valley State Prison, and I am here to tell you with first hand knowledge, there is nothing pleasant about it, and It has the highest rate of incidents in the entire California Department of Corrections. Higher than the infamous Pelican Bay and Folsom State Prisons. Google it and call me a liar if that’s what I deserve.
The riot? It happened over a Black guy high off of pills and a Mexican drunk off of pruno, arguing during a basketball game, where the winner would have gotten a couple of generic 2 liter sodas worth about $2.50 on the street. The end result? 57 Mexican and Black men proceed to stab, slice, kick and punch each other, shots are fired, pepper spray and batons come out and the officers risk their lives, running out in the middle of it trying to lay it all down. Over a couple of intoxicated men and a game of basketball. Who knows what will happen when we come off of lock down. Round 2? Everyone Is anxious to find out. I think it’s hilarious, in a Heath Ledger as the Joker sort of way.
Your favorite rapper is a liar. Do not believe him. Listen to me, children. Take my word for it. Do. Not. Go. To. Prison. Period. Prison is not cool. Stay out of trouble. Graduate. Make love. Hustle and get money. Make babies. Raise them. Be like Barack. Organize your community. Whatever. Just stay free. Please.
Dear God, let the record reflect, I told them.
Anerae Brown, ©2009"
