20120620 (J)
Journal: June 20, 2012
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Morality                              New Castle Years                              Soul

Confessions: I am certifiably crazy for which I received about 10 years’ worth of Social Security Disability support, because in the judgement of the US government, or at least a few of its delegated representatives (bureaucrats), I was mentally incapable of work (in my field perhaps), of supporting myself, though physically quite able. Thank you. I didn’t deserve it, so I must take it as a gift, thank you.

I am also a certifiable life-time sexual predator, arrested and imprisoned for mentioning my possible desire for sexual sharing with a policeman deceitfully posing as a young woman, or should I say, “girl” and for having in digital magnetic storage magnetic patterns that only be interpreted in any meaningful sense by complex computer programs of many, many pages installed and run on very particular types of machines, stored there uninterpretable.

I had one image, perhaps seen only once by my eyes as a “reconstituted” image on my screen of bits and pieces scattered about my computer disk in bits and pieces, perhaps never even seen by me, I recall none that fit the descriptions I saw in the indictment. But “guilty” as charged.

I thought here, my arrest and imprisonment were some of the best things that happened to me, but then all things that ever happened to me are some of the best things that ever happened to me. I was certifiably kicked off the New Castle basketball team my junior year for drinking alcohol (wine it was, Lancer’s brown bottles at Jeff Lowe’s house). We were quite drunk the night before our second game of the season. Five of us: Larry King, a god, Gary Arthur, Steve York, the criminal who became a policeman, Jeff Lowe, the clown, team manager, and enabler, and me, the enigma. (all of us were juniors, and all but Jeff were starters on the team along with Butch Joyner, a senior, added August 23, 2016).

The week before I had burst forcefully into the towns consciousness, we all had, as starters in a mid-western industrial town obsessed with basketball, but especially me. I had scored 21 points against Knightstown the previous week during the first game of our season. Not only was that tops, it exceeded all expectations mainly because I scored more than Butch Joyner, the god of the year before me. Anyway both Butch and I eventually became Indiana All Stars, wearing the same number 9.

People got very upset with us because we placed ourselves in a situation whereby we could no longer use our God-given talents to increase the glory of New Castle, and them personally as residents (and us of course, we were all in it for the glory too, even Jeff).

I learned then that other people felt strongly that they had (and have, the feeling persists) some claim to my talents and their expression though my actions, some claim on my ability to serve even their vain vicarious glory (let alone their wars). But yet is was after all I who sinned by taking an intoxicant at too young an age, at an inappropriate time. Stupid? Yes. Wrong? Depends on who you ask, most would say, “Yes”; a few of us “No”. I would not be "me" without that experience.