this will be the hardest thing I've written so far. and my intention now is only to begin. I'm not sure as I start whether to make an outline or begin with details and let it take shape as I go. I guess the latter. the only background I can give is sketchy and incomplete I write this more for the few who have some idea what I'm talking about already this is not for a general readership not for the scummy little boy scouts who monitor this as a way of protecting their scummy little boy scout segments of the gene pool. people who have some idea. whoever that is.
I remember being in a trance state. some kind of inbetween thing whre consciousness was there enough to allow the memory to stick but somehow get access to a deeper part? I don't really know but I remember talking about this memory. in my 20's somewhere.
I was maybe 5. in Ione. just this morning I realized why that was key. Ione. my father was working at Preston. the CYA facility there. California Youth Authority. a prison for boys. the most disposable, the highest concentration of disposable children in the country. two memories really. one that is tangential was being at Preston. a vivid image of a salad in the cafeteria. huge chef's salad. with ham and cheese and turkey all piled on. and scary vibes. it's a long way back in time but still vivid. I remember talking to my father about it, later in my 30's, and his saying that he never took me there, that he wouldn't have for the life of him. but I remember being there. vividly.
and the real one. all I can get to now. an unfinished room, like an attic, exposed studs wood floors like planks or something, other boys there, grown men, thin body types, I can't recall much of anything about it, but at one point what I remembered was an image held as an image of a rabbit being skinned or gutted and screaming an incredible screaming and a stench of overpowering strength. nauseating stink. the two possibilities are of course that somehow I had ended up in a room with some men, there were more than one or two men there, and some other boys, and they killed and skinned a rabbit altho what the fuck any country people would be doing in a town like Ione small rural village really doing that indoors is a weirder and more unexplainable mystery than what I'm proposing. Mengele documented the effect of close-proximity trauma on young subjects, documented it dude, you can stand with us, or stand with them, there is no longer any ground in the middle.
but what I remember most was the psychic vibe of pleasure from the men around me at the horror and its effects on the boys and I was watching watching from a distance and I remember being sneered at later in that trance state, a bogus memory they were sure whoever they were and overlaying that or underneath that a desperate man kind and trying to get me to remember more deeper and this morning I realized. of course. Preston. look for the clusters around places where there were populations of disposable children. kids who could vanish from the system and leave the least amount of trace. Carlyle. that's why the drones those similar recognizable body types half-breeds two or three generations in, the coloring the hair the strength and the complete severing from any prior culture these were boys raised in total cultural isolation I'm sure of it now. servants.
I remember later and it's because I'm down here now close to the original sites of some of this, I remember my cousin taking me out to a barn in Edna I think it was and I remember freaking out and not wanting to go in there, and comfort, and loving who it was that was comforting me, and of course I don't know for sure about any of this, and the liberating thing for me now is every day I care less and less for my personal redemption, vindication any of that, but there are others out there, this is what I remind myself of, what I'm reminded of constantly, and again I remember her telling me about being in NPI, the neuro-psych wing of Westwood, and again a disposable population of children and even more conveniently a budget an institution laboratory conditions and the Igor-level submission of psych students, yes master, yes master, and the huge inertia of the mass, no one to tell, no one not involved already who has the vocabulary, who wouldn't run frantically away,the mainstream resistance to anything truly occult and arcane, anything that isn't all Disney-witches and Anne Rice vampires, and what perfect cover that provides, still.
posted by Juke at 1:05 PM [edit]