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THE STUDY (part three)

(Previously... since my presence had been accepted by the sex-offenders at the education department, I decided to actively question one, JK, to see how far their collective self deluded fucked-up deviancy went..."After listening to these types of peer agreement sessions over and over again, I decided to be myself and dig a little bit deeper and personally question a particularly militant sex offender who we'll identify by his initials, JK.")


I began my questions one day at education when JK and I were the only ones in the CRC room at the education department.


     "Hey man. I know you see me in here all the time when you guys are talking. I'm not ear hustling, you folks just seem very comfortable with my presence, and you're all very open. I appreciate that confidence in my discression and objectivity. I was hoping you could help me understand one of your positions a little bit better though. Because right now, with what I've heard you say, I'm kind of confused. You say that you aren't in fact any type of sex offender, that your conviction was a set up. Yet you seem to stand up for the rest of the SO population to anyone who will listen to you. That seems contradictory to me somehow. Can you break that down so I can wrap my mind around it?" I asked.


     "I'm not an SO. My conviction is total bullshit." JK replied.


     Me thinks the Lady doth protest too much.


     "Okay. So you got set up? Isn't the first time I've heard that, and I actually wouldn't be surprised if it did happen that way. What do you think made them set you up?"


     "I'm a student of the Uniform Commercial Code and I'm a sovereign citizen," he replied with an obvious sense of pride "The US government was after me because I was moving beyond it's reach legally and since they don't want anyone out from under their thumb, they don't want anyone really free, they took some totally innocent shit and used it to lock me up."


     Oh boy.


     "Okay. What was the totally innocent shit that they used to get you convicted?" I asked in my best calm NPR voice.


     "Well... Uhhh... That's not really important. Uhhh... Just know that it wasn't true." JK said in a little more frantic tone than his usual high strung and excited way.


     Holy shit. It was that bad, huh? So bad that even when someone -lies- and says that they believe you when you say you were set up, you still won't give any details on the charges. Sheesh! Must be a real doozy!


     "Okay. That's good enough for me. I'll take your word for it. So they set you up. Now you're in here, falsely convicted of something not so good. Something that will have you judged negatively in pretty much every circle for the rest of your life. What has me confused is, if that isn't you, why do you put yourself out so much to stick up for the guys here who will admit that that's what they're all about? Why do you politic and look out for those guys so much if you're not one of them?"


     "I... uhhh... I just don't like bullies."


     "Hmmm... To be honest and coming from someone who is pretty familiar with the system as a whole, I don't see any bullying per se. I just see a kind of separation. An apartheid, if you will, as most normal and morally functioning people don't want to spend time socially with those who sexually objectify children. If the rank and file SO here ended up at a truly active prison yard they would immediately be seriously assaulted and possibly even killed. Here, all they have to deal with is being socially marginalized. That, to me, seems much better than the alternative. Don't you think?"


     "Both are wrong!" he yelped.


     "Okay. I hear you. But let's back up and explore why you personally feel the need to put yourself on the line for people who are totally open and unrepentant in their predatory sexuality. I feel like there may be more to it. I would really like to understand."


     "I...I...Uhhh..." JK could not maintain any eye contact and was fidgeting up a storm.


     I leaned into his personal space and lowered my voice, using the one you would to calm a spooked horse. "Bro, it's okay. Relax. You can talk to me here. I'm not judging you. Everything you tell me is in the strictest confidence. I'm just trying to personally understand. Explain it to me." All tremendous dirty lies, of course.


     "I just understand... I understand where they're coming from."


     Now we're getting somewhere


     "Okay. That's a good thing! Explain to me why, pal. I want to understand you just like you get them, see?"


     I was reaching there a little bit. Even so, getting this guy to open up wasn't all that hard. All I had to do was give the impression of not being viscerally sickened by the mere sight of him. Give a little faux understanding and he'll let me lead him wherever I want to go. He wants to be understood or believed by an outsider.


     "I understand... I understand... because one time, I got really depressed..." he looked up at me with piteous beaten dog eyes.


     "And?"


     "...and I stayed in my Mom's attic, up there for a whole year, because I was so depressed... and..."


     "Let it out. You'll feel so much better. I promise." Tack on another lie to the conversation total.


     "...and I stay up there the whole time... and looked at child porn on the internet."


     Wow. Uhhh. What?


     "For a whole year? You lived in your Mom's attic for a whole year and looked at that shit?" I said with a bit more of the truth of my feeling than I had intended to.


     "Yeah. I was super depressed." he whined.


     What the fuck? What does being depressed have to do with it?


     "Okay. So you're up there seriously depressed. For a whole year. Looking at kiddie porn. And that's why you empathize with the guys here, right?" Keeping the sarcasm out of my voice was proving a major chore.


      "Yeah."


     "But you yourself are not a sex offender or a pedophile or anything, right?"


     "No. No, I'm not."


     Do the delusions here have an end? What the fuck is wrong with this guy?


     "Hmmm. I don't know pal. It seems to me that a pretty strong indicator of being a pedophile would be sitting for a whole year playing with your dick while looking at child porn."


      JK looked at me in a wounded and betrayed way. Like I had smacked him full in the face. It was priceless.


     I continued... "Using an analogy, what would any sane person say about someone who sat in their Mom's attic and looked at gay porn for a whole year? While playing with their dick? Hmmmm? Not that there would be anything wrong with that like there is with anything that sexually objectifies children. But what would they say?"


     JK just kept looking at me with that same shocked and wounded fuck doll face.


     "They would, of course and correctly say that the person in question was gay. Gay and ashamed of it so they locked themselves away and out of sight of the world so they could privately swim into and bask in the deep end of their gayness."


     "It's not like that at all!" JK blurted, somehow actually offended by the analogy.


     Was this piece of shit actually insinuating through his emotive eruption and refusal that being gay was somehow worse than being a pedophile? What the fuck? What planet is he living on 'cause it sure ain't Earth. By any metric it's not even in the same dimension.


     "It kind of is though, bud. When I was out in the free world a thousand years ago. I had a collection of porn with Chasey Lain in it. I totally loved that broad. Why? Because I have this crazy thing for full grown adult women with dark hair, light colored eyes, pretty faces, and nice big juicy tits. That's my thing. If you sat in an attic for a year and impulsively watched child porn, that means that's your thing. Unfortunately for your narrative, that's an open and shut, black and white type deal."


     JK just stared at me.


     "So what's the truth here? I think we both know what it is, but I think you may be afraid to give it life by speaking it. As if you'll finally be letting that damn cat out of the bag, even to yourself... Meow!!" he literally flinched when I did the meow. I continued "I think that it's obvious that you stick up for these guys because on some level, you know you're one of them, and that's as close as you'll get to acknowledging it openly."


     I had to put open palm up as a sign to allow me to continue as JK was trying to interject.


     "If I put my junior psychologist hat on, I think it's more probable that the depression wasn't the cause of you going up into the attic and doing whatever craziness you did up there... but that depression, probably more accurately expressed as some type of reflexive shame, was the result of you being up there. Because, even as delusional and tremendously off as  you are, you still know, on some level, that your predilections are unnatural, dangerous, and absolutely morally wrong. Because of that visceral knowledge, you'll tell churched up half-truths to yourself and others to put yourself in a better and more palatable light... Seriously, Bro... You have got to be suffering from the fucking worst case of cognitive dissonance imaginable, which is probably why you're such a high-strung neurotic emotional mess. Everything in you is pulling in opposite directions. You say you're not a pedophile, but you know you are. And you're ashamed of it, but you want to vocally advocate for other who are too. You say you're not, but you know you are. You've been convicted of what you say is a set up, but you did sit up in Mom's attic for a year and download creeptastic evil weirdness of unimaginable levels to whack off to. You say that the government was after you for some secret esoteric legal alchemy that you were summoning up as a sovereign citizen, but you won't even say what they supposedly set you up on, because it was that bad and there is some shame and guilt involved in it for you. Bud, you're telling the real truth of your story by being so contradictory about everything."


     What now, fucker?



to be concluded in "THE STUDY (part four)"

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