Day 10: More Public Defender’s Office, “Contreras,” and Commissory

by Brian A. Wilkins
12/10/08

This day corresponds with Thursday, July 31, 2008.

A guy I only remember as “Hardy,” a kinfolk, was another one of the new arrivals when Juan got there. During morning chow, he was telling everybody about why he was there and showing people his paperwork. He was charged with three counts of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon for apparently threatening to shoot three people. But that’s not the surprising part. The fact his bail was only $10,000, compared to my $54,000, when I was facing only ONE aggravated assault charge, is what made no … Read Entire Article

Day 9: Writing in Arabic, Public Defender’s Office, and a New “Celly”

by Brian A. Wilkins
12/10/08

This day corresponds with Wednesday, July 30, 2008.

“Misquez?!” a voice on the intercom said.”Roll up!” That is the term used for when they either move you to a different cell block or when you are going home. Mario removed the sheet from his mattress and wrapped it around his towel. “Man when you get out of here on Friday, call me…we’re having that burrito,” he said. As we shook hands and embraced, the door opened to let him out. That would be the last time I ever saw or spoke to Mario.

I moved … Read Entire Article

Desistance, Suicide Not Synonymous

by Brian A. Wilkins
12/8/08

A tie-in to the “55 Days In Maricopa County Jail” blog.

It is after 3 a.m. In a little more than four hours, I will show up at this call center and telemarket for 9 hours per day, Monday through Friday (and sometimes Saturdays), just to ensure I will eat one meal per day, be able to pay my one-month-behind-and-counting rent and pay the 200-plus annual percentage rate on a car title loan I had to get just to move into the apartment I currently live in. I would not normally be up at 3 … Read Entire Article

Day 8: The Court Date

by Brian A. Wilkins
11/30/08

This day corresponds with Tuesday, July 29. Court Dates were all the same; with slight variations. The first was the worst in every way since I had yet to experience actually GETTING to court.

Around midnight of the day you go to court, a guard will speak to you through the intercom in your cell. “Wilkins…you want to shower and shave for court?” Sure I’d love to shave, but not with the cheap, disposable razors they give you. Plus I guess it would have been too humane a gesture for them to provide shaving cream (which … Read Entire Article

Illegal Discharge of Firearm Charge: Kill or Go to Jail

by Brian A. Wilkins
11/24/08

In hindsight, after reviewing Arizona statutes, I should have shot and killed the radical who extorted and attempted to rob and assault me while he was in my place. A dead suspect with knife in hand, according to several law types and others I’ve spoken to, would have likely put me in a better situation.

For those of you unfamiliar with Shannon’s Law, a statute making it a felony to “negligently” discharge a firearm in a city’s limits, it was enacted in 2000 after Shannon Smith, an eighth grade girl, was struck in the head … Read Entire Article

Day 7: The Nightmare, clean underwear and towels, and a job lost

by Brian A. Wilkins
11/24/08

This day corresponds with Monday, July 28.

“You’re fuckin’ dead, nigger!” my neighbor said. He stabbed me numerous times until I woke from my sleep. I hit my head so hard on the ceiling, I thought I was concussed. This nightmare happened nearly every night I actually slept soundly. It was scary, as was the lump on my head from banging it on the ceiling. But what was I going to do? Go to medical for help? I think not.

Only a few minutes after the doors opened for the morning, a D.O. yelled from … Read Entire Article

Day 6: Lockdown, Islam, and fishing

by Brian A. Wilkins
11/24/08

This day corresponds with Sunday, July 27.

I’d been up most of the night coughing up phlegm and sneezing. Sleeping in a refrigerator with a blanket that barely covers your body will do that to you. But I figured it was much worse for people who were in those tents. Around 6 a.m., the doors didn’t open like they normally did. Enough time went by that the 8 a.m. chow was brought to the cells by a team of inmates. Mario said we were on “lockdown” and there was no telling when they would let … Read Entire Article

Michael Vick media lynching and white people’s obsession with dogs

by Brian A. Wilkins
November 23, 2008 (links and photos updated September 23, 2019)

U.S. cops cooked their dogs to death in hot cars constantly. But they are after-thoughts to Euro-American media. Mr. Vick remains the prime target. This is divine entertainment for Surry County, Virginia “authorities” and white Americans in general.

SURRY, VA — Surry County Attorney Gerald Poindexter and Circuit Court Judge Sam Campbell are lonely individuals. They need attention during the holiday season. That’s why they are forcing Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick to fly 2,300-plus miles round-trip to say ONE word: “guilty.”

UPDATED May

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Day 5: Haircut, “Chino”, Poker, and “Prayer Circle”

by Brian A. Wilkins
11/20/08

This would be my first Saturday of many in LBJ. I had to start accepting the possibility of not getting out AND losing my job on Tuesday…or getting out AND still losing my job. Either would have been bad, but I definitely preferred the latter if I had to choose. This day corresponds with Saturday, July 26.

“Sup man…your people are first in line for haircuts if you want one.” When Chino introduced himself to me, I asked him why they call him Chino. “I guess because I’m Chinese,” he said. “But you’re Korean aren’t you?” I asked … Read Entire Article

Day 4: “LBJ” medical, inmate accounts, and Christianity

by Brian A. Wilkins
11/20/08

This day corresponds with Friday, July 25, 2008. Advisory: contains some adult language.

“Wilkins!” I heard a voice while I was half-sleep at about 645am. I was cold, tired, and my neck was ALL messed up from sleeping – if you want to call leaning my head on a cold metal table while sitting on a cold, concrete  “chair” – sleeping. “Wilkins!!” I had forgotten where I was, but the voice through the intercom snapped me back to reality. “What?”

“Come down for medical!” the voice said. I had already been through this medical mess … Read Entire Article