Social media was not nearly as common prior to the onset of my incarceration. In short, things of this nature were just in their infancy and I was far from interested or computer literate. I also couldn’t spell “cat” if you fronted me the “c” as well as the “t.”
An entire generation grew up in the computer age and with the addition of the older generations who got involved, blew this whole thing up to proportions no one could fathom. Although the technology has changed drastically, unfortunately the people utilizing it have not. A practice called “telephone tough guys” has now evolved into Facebook Gangsters.
Call me old fashioned, but over the phone you had to at least sound aggressive. But, if you had the voice of Michael Jackson it took something away from the whole experience. In this day and age, with the aid of computers a Facebook tough guy can not only rehearse what they send beforehand, they can put any face on any body to further their confidence levels. This amounts to what we used to call beer balls.
I preferred the times when some idiot on the phone could recite a few lines from “Goodfellas.” It was far more realistic and a call had a more personal touch. This tough guy on the computer thing truly leaves something to be desired and furthermore, sending someone a threat and misspelling words becomes comical because now everyone knows you’re functionally illiterate. Then unlike the above I did not have this page created to beef with anyone. If I wanted to, I could easily do that in the prison yard on a face-to-face basis which I am more comfortable with anyway. To be honest, I’d choose not to do it there either if at all possible.
At one point of my life, I decided to try and live a bit more righteously, no beefs, scams, or schemes, and if I can help someone who really needs it, I will. It sounds corny, or like something one might say to the parole board. However the one gift I have – despite knowing in all likelihood I will never leave prison – is I can say what I please.
This is why I learned to express myself with paper. In the future if you really have any animosity towards me, please feel free to come up and voice your grievance in the visiting room. I promise I won’t try to turn it into a future Zap Tale. If anything, at the least I can get you hooked on phonics, unstuck from stupid, and, if I think you’re trying hard enough to act correctly, I promise to buy you an ice cream from the vending machine.