Wednesday, August 03, 2011

Godot ain't here yet

Well, here we are again - Sunday 31st July and the end of yet one more week when nothing has happened and, while a lot seems to be promised, there is nothing forthcoming at all, not a thing, zilch, zero, nada, nowt, fuck all.

However, I don't choose to see it as the end of yet another week - my feet are planted firmly in the air - I see it as the start of a fresh month because it's August tomorrow. My next parole hearing is in September 2012. That's only thirteen months as the crow flies - and the way this place operates I'll still be sitting here doing G.B.H. to the typewriter. Forgive me if I sound a little cynical, but experience has taught me that this place offers much but delivers nothing.

As we all know, the Secretary of State gave me a sixteen month review and I now find out from my solicitor that sixteen months is actually a breach of my human nights under the ECHR Article 5 (4) - whatever that says. Twelve months is normal, apparently, and can only be extended under extraordinary circumstances - but that's MY interpretation, not my solicitor's.

So he is contemplating some form of challenge to have that period reduced to twelve months - and THAT would make my next parole hearing in May of next year, not September. What's that - nine months? Nine months to do all I have to do with interventions and the like and get reports written - all done IN open prison. The way this place operates, I'll still be sitting here in nine months.

However, my solicitor is the expert - I'm just the one who has the stress-filled and anxious nights where sleep sits on my shoulder and sniggers at me.

The trouble is, I'm not getting any younger. In the words of Pink Floyd:
So we run and we run to catch up with the sun
But it's sinking.
Racing around to come up behind us again.
The sun is the same in a relative way
But we're older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.
Well, I can subscribe to THAT!

It may be remembered (or it may not) that the other day I was told that my details would be sent off to every open prison in the country. That hasn't actually happened, as far as I know, and I've not had a word on the subject since. It's not going to happen, of course - remember, we are dealing with the Lazy L here, and what the Lazy L says and what the Lazy L does are always two entirely different things. As I say, they promise much but deliver nothing.

Still, we've got to be like Felix Dennis and see the world as a glass half full - it prevents insanity creeping up on us.

You can't really object to folk when they get a bit difficult when it comes to dealing with the likes of me - after all, I am scum. Hey! Before anyone starts getting the wrong idea, let me just say that it wasn't easy getting to be scum - I had to work hard at it, I suffered for my art! Scum is a calling that many aspire to but few actually get the gold star! Let me tell you, I've got the gold star and two bars. When the scum of the world have their judgement day, I'll be there, right at the front of the queue, waiting for what's coming as a reward.

In the meantime I'll just let the Lazy L continue to hold their own scum awards - and guess who will get the nomination here?

By the way, he's not here yet - that Godot feller. I'm getting toward the point where I'm starting to think that he's just a figment of someone's imagination - a bit like me being sent to open prison by the Lazy L.

The Voice In The Wilderness

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