When I win the reversal - who gives back our company, who gives me back the prison time and who finds jobs for my hundreds of loyal employees and who will recapture the stock valuation for our tens of thousands of shareholders?
The Judge and his broken system have tried to destroy, rob and then crucify those of us unwilling to acquiesce. Similar to Naked Short Selling isn't it?
The Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) is in charge of protecting the sanctity of our trading system. By the way, the SEC is paid for every stock transaction, real or counterfeit. They denied the existence of naked short selling and immediately began to harass this whistleblower with subpoenas and actual business interference. The SEC and friends planted stories on the internet and in some newspapers; indicating their "suspicions"; although for 17 years they accepted and approved all filings of quarterly and annual reports from my model company without question or comment.
Following the advice of my General Counsel and outside legal team, my company sued the SEC and they "suddenly" decided, within hours, that our company had been reporting "improperly" for the past fourteen years. My company knew it had functioned properly and provided the proof. We filed an Appeal to question the government's attacks and their vindictive questionable claims. All appeals were rejected by the same judge.
The judge assigned to our case was a former Justice Department prosecutor. He is appointed for life with a reputation of never biting the hand that feeds him.
The Judge ruled no trial was necessary.
The Judge ruled no appeal could be heard in his Court.
He, without a trial fined my company $30,000,000 and fined me $3,000,000.
He refused a "stay" while the company appealed to a higher Court, and he ordered every officer to step down immediately.
He even banned me from working in a similar capacity for life in America.
Did you ever hear of such a verdict?
Sounds pretty draconian? Then the SEC seized control (yes, seized) and shut down our fine company in days by a questionable receiver who constituted yet another layer of corruption, ignorance, and sub-standard credentials. Despite her inaccurate reports on our company, she never told the Court she represented naked shorters and was herself the target of lawsuits on those matters. Comparing this woman’s looks and intelligence (respectively) to Phyllis Diller and a monkey would be unkind to Ms. Diller and the primate. She dismantled our fine company in days like a monkey throwing a complicated computer around in its cage. The monkey then threw the computer in the water and subsequently claimed that it didn't or never worked. What were we doing for the past 17 years? What did reports like the one at the back of this story say about our "too complex for her to grasp" unique company?
Countless eye witnesses have come forth to report on her vindictive actions. But, nobody listens when three or four writers, working in unison with the SEC, post inaccurate articles supporting the sanctimonious stand of those dismantling power-abusing bureaucrats? The SEC receiver liquidated (yes, liquidated) the company for pennies (to her friends?). They shredded (yes, shredded) the company's documents (before the appeal!). The SEC itself then seized the $700,000,000 judgment. It cancelled the original case by the company against the SEC. Let's go back to the diary, before I get too angry to think clearly.
By the way, I promised positive stories when they occurred. I was promised by the education director, my counselor and one of the “suits” today that books would be sent to my isolation cell.
No books from any of the three employees have arrived today. I continue reading the Bible and unfortunately I keep re-reading "We're All Doing Time". Of course, multiple pages are ripped out so I guess I'm reading "We're All Doing Some Time" with hundreds of pages removed through old age, usage or vandalism.
It is important to note that although I had been mechanically lucky in my cell until today my prison water is now inoperable and my toiletries are still not here - but I'm not worried because I'm on the "list" for toiletries.
One Chicken Pox infected cell neighbor is now getting medical attention for dehydration - I guess being unconscious can move you up on the medical "list". What a cracker-jack run organization.
Chapter 5 – My Counselor meets “Al”
No one comes on our little tier or ward without wearing Hong Kong air filters on their faces. I'm not worried because my counselor told me I'm behind the door most of the time and I'm probably not on the list to get Chicken Pox or whatever the masks are being worn for this week.
Today I await the Appellate Court's ruling on emergency relief, or do I have to stay one more week to have the new ordered deposition in here instead of answering questions in a more humane setting. What a vindictive action, hopefully someday impeachable.
I was told that regarding my water and broken toilet the plumber would handle it immediately. That was about 2 hours and 45 minutes ago. Immediately, only works one way in an institution like this. We perform immediately when the slot opens for food; they don't have to respect us - so inmates gain respect in other ways. It's so clear to see the double standard of respect in prison.
Today I was awakened to my first concert while in captivity (if that is an acceptable term because even wild animals have larger cages). They are installing a new shower on our Ward. The old one has been out of service for years. The construction crew is top-notch. They began singing doo-wop "I got to get out of this place if it's the last thing I ever do". Hey, that's my song! Maybe they are inmates too? From what I can see - they look like they have as many tattoos as the inmates have. There are so many tattoos on guards; it seems to support my premise that we become like those with whom we work. The workers are guards! It's a reflective and pensive thought that something is wrong with an institution where both the guards and the inmates have the same school song.
Good News - they fixed my water. With contempt, (can I use that word?) the corrections officer (CO) shook his head when he arrived after six hours of my calling. "It's only a switch outside your door" was his comment …as if I could get out the door, or if I could touch the switch. "It was simple to fix - no problem" were his comments, as he walked away in disgust. Why should I feel inadequate? Speaking of inadequate, this shower project by the doo-wop crew of four has been going on now for the better part of five days. It's difficult trying not to listen to the dialogue. "Fuck this"," fuck him", "I told him to fuck off!" I started meditating (self-taught) on my bunk today - can anyone blame me? I must try anything to block out the sounds and negative energies of this place.
By the way, my counselor who is no longer speaking with me tickled me yesterday (not really). She answers to three names and often does not respond if you call her one of the names she is not pretending to be that day. She wanted to know why I call her Ms. Andrews, et.al. "Who is this Al guy? I don't know no Al," she said. What a laugh she gave me. Instead of my self-taught UMMMMMM meditating mantra, I decided to use ALLLLLLLL. It made me smile, and I probably accomplished the same internal joy as if I had been surrounded by incense, llamas and a mountain peak. This inept counselor operates under three different identities. When you address one of her names, if she doesn't want to engage, she becomes one of the other characters. Nothing gets done. She gets away with this mentally painful treatment of needy inmates. Mrs. Andrews, et.al, causes more anguish to these young men and no one even addresses her manipulative or psychotic behavior.
I still have not received books, so I keep re-reading these letters from inmates to this prison guy, who is the Ann Landers of prison life, in "We're All Doing Time". He's a sensitive guy but some of these letters remind me of why I am in solitary. For example:
"I stabbed this guy 38 times in prison until he was dead. This is my eleventh murder, but I now feel the presence of the Spirit in my cell. What mantra should I hum?" I've also gotta get out of this place. Hey, maybe I can help them fix the shower!
From what I can gather from the terms "unbelievable", "fucking ridiculous", and "I can't take this much longer", the work on the shower has halted because a toilet instead of shower handles was delivered for the shower repair order! All I know is that the yelling