Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Officially no psychopath

Every week I say the same thing - no news from the 'Lazy L'. Well, it gives me a certain amount of, not so much pleasure, more of satisfaction, to say that this week there IS news. For a long time now, years in fact, people who had little or no idea what they were talking about, or what I am like these days as a person, have been condemning me:
"He hasn't got the right ticks in the right boxes!" they cried.
The more removed they were from me, the more vehement they were in this unreasonable bleating.

Finally, they 'ghosted' me from Whitemoor to the 'Lazy L' in March of last year to be psychologically assessed using various engines and tools specifically designed for the job. Then they went back into hibernation - and nothing happened.

Well this week I have finally completed my assessment for the Psychopathic Check List - Revised, the PCL-R as created by Dr Robert Hare. (Although these days, apparently, this seems to be looked on with a certain amount of scepticism by those who know what they are talking about.) This assessment, carried out over several days and involving five sessions of over two and a half hours each, was conducted by a fully qualified person, as opposed to one of the young trainees who are currently holding the whole prison service in thrall.

I can't use this person's real name because apparently that kind of thing is frowned upon, but I do want to say one or two words about her. Now, the last time I was nice about someone in this place they made a complaint and caused me a certain amount of aggro, but I am still going to be nice about her. However, I will have to change her name - which is a pity because it's a great name. I wish I had a great name too. I'd like to be called Aloysius, or Sigmund, or Theobald, or Bob - something exotic. Anyway, back to my psychologist. I shall call her Blodwin, a name I remember from "How Green Was My Valley", a tale of madness and Welsh coalmining, which are probably much the same thing.

I have met a great many people over the last quarter century working (them, not me) for the prison service and, whilst I have met more than my fair share of nasty buggers, I have met a few really nice people, none of whom I intend to list here - you will have to read the book. However, I have to say this, Blodwin could well be the nicest and most genuine I have met over the years. She was prepared to listen, that's her secret, that and simply being a genuine nice sort I suppose. She impressed me. She also has a sense of humour, a rare attribute with people who do her job normally. We seemed to spend quite a bit of time sniggering. (I like a good snigger, ask Boudica - and I'll come to HER in a minute or two. )

I'm not going to attempt to go through all of the things that were discussed (we'd be here all day), but only what was said when it was all over, as far as I can of course. The final outcome of the sessions was that I do not meet the criteria for courses - my scores are nowhere near high enough - that I shouldn't be in this environment and that she would be having a wee chat with The Wallace on the subject with a view to a move to much less secure conditions. Blodwin would also be making enquiries ahout a move to Kingston to join all the other geriatrics. Even my propensity to vulgarianism* didn't bother her at all. Mind, she has a pet cat, and I have found that folk who have cats are generally much nicer than those who keep no pets at all - or dog lovers. (That should annoy one or two.) Now we wait for Blodwin's final report - I expect good things.

At this point it occurs to me that a word or two needs to be said on Boudica's behalf - she of the bad temper and the desire to turn every pigeon in the world into a heavyweight. The Tall Ships were in Hartlepool so, being fond of ships, I asked good old Lucretia Borgia to get me a few pictures in between her feud with "her next door", feeding pigeons, terrorising the postman, taking the piss out of me and generally sniggering at passing pedestrians. I got three pictures and one of those doesn't actually show anything at all - they must have had the cap over the lens. To be fair, Boudica didn't take them so I can't blame her for it, but I thought someone, somewhere would have taken decent pics and put them on the internet for the rest of us.

Now I have to say, with a great deal of sincerity, that I have to show caution when I tell Boudica that I like something or that there is something I could use - she gets it for me almost instantly! The simple fact is that Boudica, despite all of my carping and mockery of dumb blondes, is one in a million. She is a diamond. Miss Twin-Set 1960. One of her pigeons died - she wanted to call in Scotland Yard because it looked like it had been assassinated! (What makes a pigeon look like it has been assassinated?)

However, to get back to the main theme, there is news this week! I am no longer unassessed; everyone seems to be singing from the same hymn sheet at last; all are in agreement - so we can expect progress.

Having said all that, I now fully expect that fickle ould tart Lady Luck to be currently polishing her boots and putting new laces in ready to give me the usual, right where it hurts. Just when I think things are getting better, she does it every time without exception. Of course Boudica says that I should have more positive thoughts and attitude. I've got news for you, Twin-Set - it's not you getting booted in the family heirlooms, is it?

* I know this should be "vulgarism", but I like "vulgarianism" better!

The Voice In The Wilderness

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