I listened to the Serial podcast on my way down to NYC the other day, and I have more than a few things to say about it. If you plan on listening to the podcast, I suggest you do that before reading this rant.

The Analysis

I can appreciate what Sarah was trying to do. She was faced with a woman who claimed that there was an innocent man in prison for a murder he didn’t commit, and she set out to find out whether that was, in fact, true, making it necessary to look at all the facts objectively so as not to jump to unnecessary conclusions. What I cannot appreciate was some of the analysis. The following is a list of my issues with the analysis:

1.    Duplicitous behavior- The prosecution tried to say that Adnan demonstrated duplicitous behavior by sneaking around behind his family’s back and letting them believe that he was a faithful Muslim. The Serial podcast mentions that many kids in Adnan’s community did this, but what I think they fail to make really clear is that ALL TEENAGERS do this kind of stuff. If someone were to take a fine tooth comb to anyone’s past and look at all the stuff they did when they were teenagers, I am almost positive that you would find some duplicitous behavior there, none of it indicating that you are a sociopathic murderer. I would say this applies to the episode on his skimming money from the synagogue as well (in that case maybe not all teenagers steal, but it’s certainly not uncommon- note that one of the interviewees talks about how she used to steal CDs from the Best Buy on a regular basis).

2.    Muslim bias- At one point, Sarah says that she does not think Adnan was convicted because he was Muslim. She says the judge was very careful to screen for this, but at the same time she admits that the prosecution worked it into their theme of the case. Namely, the idea that Adnan had gone behind his family’s back to date Hae, that when she broke up with him he was upset, and that it hurt his pride to see her with another guy, which made him snap and kill her. When asked why the jury convicted Adnan, one them spit the prosecution’s narrative out, almost verbatim. On a Ted Talk podcast, a Middle Eastern man talked about how he and his friends tried to pass as Italian after the movie “Not Without My Daughter” came out. Yeah that was 1991, but the prosecution’s narrative basically tracks the plot of the movie (i.e. Americanized Middle Eastern Man becomes possessive because of his conservative Muslim family and ultimately snaps, causing the woman harm). How can she dismiss this a contributing factor?

3.    The challenge- At one point, Sarah and her producer Dana take on Adnan’s challenge that he couldn’t have gotten to the Best Buy parking lot in 21 minutes. They conclude it’s possible based on a re-enactment. I take issue with it for two reasons (1) they said that Hae made it to her car in 2 minutes after the bell rang. I find that doubtful considering that several people seemed have talked to her about whether she would give Adnan a ride after school and (2) it does not take one and a half minutes to strangle a healthy, athletic teenage girl (that last point was first made by my friend Jeanenne, who is pretty damn close to being a licensed nurse, and I agree).

4.    The 2:36 call- The 2:36 call and, by association, the Best Buy pay phone seems irrelevant considering it seems that Hae wasn’t even dead by then. For this reason, I would say that the whole phone record may be irrelevant, because what if she didn’t even die on the 13th. The police work in this case was pretty crappy, despite Serial’s expert detective opinion to the contrary. There was forensic evidence that they never even bothered to test, and this podcast demonstrates how much information they failed to go over in their investigation. So, why should we even be looking at the 13th phone records as definitive? Maybe all the records reflect is that Jay had Adnan’s phone during the afternoon, and they spent the day riding around doing stupid shit.

5.    The cell tower pings- (1) it was determined in subsequent cases that this type of evidence is unreliable (2) the Lekin Park ping could have been related to the trip to the guy’s house (Phil or Paul)- note that the park was so close to where the school and the drug spots were that a ping from the tower cannot really prove much of anything (3) none of it lines up with Jay’s story for the period of time that Adnan supposedly killed Hae!! I don’t give a shit that it kind of matches up after six. What does that even mean? and (4) Courts have since declined to admit cell phone tower evidence as credible, so why spend so much time on it?

6.    Jay’s story- Jay knew where the car was, and he described the murder. The only thing this demonstrates to me is that it’s quite possible that he did it. If that’s the case, that means he got two years probation for murdering a girl. Furthermore, why isn’t anyone asking whether he is a sociopath? Everyone keeps on saying how believable he seemed. Why not apply the same analysis to him as they did to Adnan? That makes absolutely no sense to me. As for his friend’s testimony (Jen), she spoke to Jay before talking to the cops, so they could have gotten talked about what she was supposed to say. I’m just saying if we’re going to be skeptical, it seems to make more sense to be skeptical here.

7.    Don’s alibi- Don’s alibi was corroborated by his manager, who was also his mother. You’re telling me he couldn’t have slipped out, strangled Hae, and buried her later? Also, if Hae’s own boyfriend (who says he loved her!!) didn’t call after she went missing, why give Adnan (her ex-boyfriend) a hard time about not calling? They do mention this in the podcast, but not to the degree I would have liked. Also neglected is the fact that Don had been betrayed by the last few girlfriends he had before Hae. The “snap” theory makes more sense here than it does for Adnan. What doesn’t make sense is why Jay would know the location of the car. However, this assumes Jay didn’t know Don, which we don’t know.

8.    Adnan’s memory- HE SMOKED WEED SEVERAL TIMES A DAY!!!!! Why is it so damned surprising that he couldn’t remember where he was that day? Also, I agree with Adnan that the phone call from the police is not enough to make it significant. If he was innocent, why would he have any reason to think that something was strange, or that he should have been tracing his steps? If you were (as admitted by Don), maybe that means you’re guilty.

9.    The Defense Attorney- she sucked, plain and simple. She may have been good in her prime, but from what I heard, it was not ok. Also, the cash issues seem more like criminal activity, not a woman who doesn’t know that she can’t take on anymore work. Those did not seem like good faith mistakes to me.

10.    Adnan’s lack of anger- I can tell you from my own experience that you have to let things go, or else you’ll go crazy. Adnan was right; it doesn’t matter what other people think of you. You have to find your own peace, and that’s no one’s business but your own.

11.    Convenient set of bad circumstances- Dana asked, “how could one guy be so unlucky?” Well, I’ve been that unlucky, so I know all about it. Besides, the mistake I think that was made was that the evidence was all being looked at from the prosecution’s arguments and assumptions. Too many of these assumptions were taken for granted.

12.    The Nisha call- Which brings me to the Nisha call. I don’t think this was as significant as they made it out to be. First of all, Adnan’s memory from that day was fuzzy at best, so who knows when he had his phone and didn’t. I don’t think it proves anything either way. Second of all, what if Jay called her. You’re telling me teenage boys never call cute girls their friends are talking to so that they can try and get with them? Maybe he called and pretended to be Adnan. You’re telling me that’s impossible too? Come on!! This is not responsible adults we’re talking about. I can remember a couple of times where guys I didn’t know got my number from someone else and called me. Therefore, the Nisha call is not that big of deal.

With all that being said. I can see how it’s easy to get lost among the weeds in this case, and I think the Serial team tried to do as thorough of a job as possible. I’m also grateful, because it beautifully portrays how easy it is to get convicted on serious charges with circumstantial evidence at best, which brings me to my next point.

The Constitutional Issues

The thing that bothered me most about this case was how easily this seventeen year old boy was convicted of murder. I really can’t get over this.

The Sixth Amendment gives us the right to a speedy, public trial, the right to an attorney, and a right to face our accuser. The point of this and other Constitutional protections is to protect citizens from the arbitrary enforcement of the law. Technically, Adnan received the due process required by law, but I am still disturbed. Why am I disturbed? I’m disturbed because what happened flies in the face of what is Constitutionally required. If it is possible for prosecutors to bring such a thin case against you, with no physical evidence whatsoever, inappropriately involve themselves with witnesses, and use racial bias to manipulate the jury, then what the hell is the point?! The result is due process in name only.

This case should not have been brought before a jury, but it was, and it happens all the time!! Charges should not be brought unless a person’s guilt is fairly certain. Otherwise, the individual is stuck proving a negative, which can quickly become a losing battle. That is also why we have a reasonable doubt standard, much of which was found in this case. It is stories like this one that make me realize how much history repeats itself. We are no better now than the tyranny our Founding Fathers hoped to correct (of course that’s a whole other matter).

Warning: The play discussed uses the “n” word. I have not edited the language quoted directly from the play.

    I just finished a book of Sartre’s plays. The last play in the book, “The Respectful Prostitute,” really struck me, so I’m writing about it.

    At first, I didn’t know what to think about the story. I could see that it was set in the U.S. in the South involving a character described as “the Negro,” so I figured it was based on something having to do with race relations in America. Once I started reading, it became apparent that it was loosely based on the “Scottsboro Boys” case that happened in the 1930’s. If you have never heard of this, PBS has a pretty good explanation and links to other sources here.

    A quick version of what happened in the Scottsboro case is that there was a scuffle between a group of Caucasian men and African American men. One of the Caucasian men was injured and reported the incident to the police. A mob of armed Caucasians met the train in the next station and the African American men were taken to the police station. It is actually a misnomer to call them men, because they were boys. The youngest was 12. The oldest was 18. Two poor, white women were also found on the train. To avoid being prosecuted for sleeping with the Caucasian men and to avoid any suspicion of having slept with the African American boys, they lied and said they were raped. The boys received a grossly unfair series of trials, and it became quite evident over the course of the trial that the women were lying. Eventually, much later on, one of the women would admit to as much. The publicity of the trial and their virtue as Caucasian women when compared to the lives of African American boys turned them into overnight celebrities, no longer the low class women found on the train that night. In the end, the boys spent many years in prison. Some of them died, and most of them were unable to recover from the trauma after being released. They weren’t all officially pardoned until November of last year. Up until that time only one was pardoned (out of 9), and that didn’t happen until 1976, forty-six years after the false accusation.

    Here the Caucasian men on the train were men of some importance and one of them shoots one of the African American men after getting punched in a scuffle started by the Caucasian men. Furthermore, the shooter had sexually assaulted the woman, Lizzie, in this story. Instead of being found on the train, Lizzie blends in to the town and the play opens on her having finished a one night stand with Fred.

    Fred is the Senator’s son and is the cousin of the shooter. Fred is also a scoundrel. His main objective for sleeping with Lizzie is to get her to sign a false testimony. He is aggressive and disrespectful towards women. He grabs Lizzie violently at various points throughout the play. At one point he puts his hands around her throat and fantasizes about killing her, and after lynching an innocent African American man (after failing to find who they were looking for), he goes back to Lizzie’s house undecided as whether to “kill [her] or rape [her].” He also seems blood thirsty in general. He describes his cousin as a good man even though his cousin is a sexual deviant and a murderer.

    Lizzie is from a low class background, but she has the same characteristics as women in Sartre’s other plays. She is strong and witty, in a way, often bullying the man in the play, but she is easily confused and unsure of her position. For instance, after the threat of force and jail time have proven insufficient to get Lizzie to sign the false confession, it is Senator Clarke who is successful without employing either tactic. He tells Lizzie to imagine him as the embodiment of Uncle Sam and that if Uncle Sam were there, he would say that that although he loves the Negro, he does nothing to pay him back for raising him with his “dawdl[ing], sing[ing], and buy[ing] of pink and green suits….does he live like a man? I would not even notice if he died.” Then he compares him to his other son, who has, admittedly, done something bad by killing a Negro, but who is “one hundred percent American”; who “studied at Harvard”; who “employs two thousand workers in his factor; and who is “a leader, a firm bulwark against the Communists, the labor unions, and the Jews.” Throughout the Senator’s narrative, Lizzie exclaims how well he talks. He then appeals to her vanity. Saying what a hero she will be to the boy’s mother (the Senator’s sister); saying how his sister would cry with joy at her son’s release; and saying she would always think of her and “love [her], from a distance, as her very own child.”

Lizzie later discovers that she has been swindled when the Senator’s sister sends a one hundred dollar bill in payment for Lizzie’s night with Fred, instead of heartfelt note of gratitude, but she is taken in again later on in the story. Fred discovers “the negro” in Lizzie’s apartment and gives chase. She hears two shots ring out from the street. Believing that Fred has shot the man both knew to be innocent, Lizzie takes the revolver and aims it at him as he comes through the door. She intends to shoot him, and Fred says the following,

“The first Clarke cleared the whole forest, just by himself; he killed seventeen Indians with his bare hands before dying in an ambush; his son practically built this town; he was friends with George Washington, and died at Yorktown, for American independence….My father is a Senator. I shall be senator after him…We have made this country, and its history is ours. There have been Clarkes in Alaska, in the Philippines, and in New Mexico. Can you dare shoot all of America?...A girl like you can’t shoot a man like me.”

Lizzie is overcome by Fred who takes the gun. He then offers to put her up in a house where she will have money, where he will meet her three times a week after dark, where she must never leave, and all this subject to the condition that she is never able to leave the house save the gardens surrounding it. She reluctantly acquiesces, and that is where the audience is left.

Obviously, these passages speak to more than just Lizzie’s naivety and its portrayal of women in general. They speak to two other issues: (1) class systems in America and (2) race in America.

Class

    The relationship between Lizzie and the other characters can be viewed as an allegory for class systems in America. Lower class Americans are easily wooed by the elitist talking points that extol the ideas of sacrificing the individual for the greater good of the trickle-down effect. We are awed by “how well they speak” as they cut benefits for the needy, strip away Constitutional protections, and shift the heavy tax burden on to the low and middle classes. We are none the wiser, until, like Lizzie, we receive the cheap offer of a one hundred dollar bill.
Race
    The quoted passages also embody the attitude that has been felt and supported in this country for hundreds of years, namely that this country was built by and for Caucasian men, more specifically the elite Caucasian men. Caucasian men came and stole land from the Native Americans, but they are the real Americans. Slaves were brought over to America and broke their backs working fields and other hard labor, but they are not the real Americans, it is the Caucasian farmers who are. Caucasians came here and took advantage of the American dream, but Mexicans who try to do the same are not allowed to do so. Instead, we should put up a big fence to kick all of them out and we have no qualms over separating families and doing whatever is necessary to make sure they don’t get a piece of the pie.

    History supports this point of view. Consider the Dredd Scott decision, where the Supreme Court refused to acknowledge an African American man as a citizen. Justice Taney wrote, “with the slave, with one devoid of rights or capacities, civil or political, there could be no pact; that one thus situated could be no party to, or actor in, the association of those possessing free will…He could no form no part of the design, no constituent ingredient or portion of a society based upon common, that is, upon equal interests and powers.” The hypocrisy here is baffling, because to say that slaves could form no constituent ingredient completely ignores that the Constitution provides that they were to be counted as 3/5 of man for the purpose of apportioning representatives.

    Further, there are still echoes of this same sentiment today. There is the selective enforcement in the war on drugs, and just yesterday, a Missouri Grand Jury refused to indict the officer responsible for shooting an unarmed black teenager. Every time an unarmed black man is shot and justice is not served, it sends the message that black lives are worthless. It sends the same message that is seen in the Senator’s portrayal of Uncle Sam- the U.S. does not notice when black lives are taken. It is only when the black community cries out for justice that people start to pay attention, and, in response, the media and the responsible party do everything they can to justify the action, so they start to vilify the victim. They note that the person was wearing or hoody, or he shouldn’t have been running away, or he was accused of a crime so that must have meant he was dangerous. This is no different from Fred saying, “[a] nigger has always done something.” We may not be as blunt in our words, but our actions have the same effect.     

    For this reason, black men, in a sense, have been emasculated. This is illustrated through “the Negro” here. He has no control over his destiny whatsoever throughout the play. He cannot rely on the lack of evidence to exonerate him, so he must plead with Lizzie not to lie in court. After she tells the lie, he is on the run from the angry white mob that is on “the nigger hunt.” He trembles with fear as they approach her apartment to look for “the nigger.” He talks of how they will whip his eyes and light him on fire with gasoline. He refuses to take the revolver offered to him, because he is so petrified by “the white folks” that he is unable to act against them for fear of the retaliation were he to be unsuccessful and remain alive. Lizzie calls him a sucker.

    Maybe this is why the unfortunate rioting happened in Ferguson yesterday. Maybe they’re tired of being suckers. So, the people of Ferguson lashed out against the police. Is there no empathy for the plight of these people who were tired of hearing that their lives don’t matter? If the Jews had revolted at the hands of Hitler and burned down buildings, would we say that they were wrong? As a side note, Hitler used America as an example as proof that the success of a nation depends on as little race mixing as possible. Aren’t you so glad that we could make such a great impression?

    Obviously, it is not fair to compare all police officers to one deranged man. There are good officers out there. But the history of our Nation and our current situation suggests that, in certain neighborhoods and to a certain population, the police are more of an oppressor, rather than a protector. Do they do this consciously? I would argue for the most part the answer is no, but they see people of color and the stereotypes that have been fed to all of us are immediately at work. The fact that police departments tend to be majority white, even in majority black neighborhoods, only exacerbates this problem.

    In the end, I feel sad that I can read a play written in the forties and still feel that it is so relevant. But, in the words of my friend Jamila Lee, I will not give up hope.

Today is a rainy, blustery, somewhat chilly day, and it’s appropriate weather for how I feel. Today I had to do one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life. I had to say goodbye forever to my dear, sweet Sammie.

Sammie came to me by airplane almost seven years ago on a January evening. We had gone online, found a breeder in Mississippi, and had chosen her out of six other puppies. From her pictures, it was easy to tell that she was a special dog. We picked up from the airport in the evening. She almost hadn’t made it because the weather had been so bad, and she couldn’t fly if the temperature dropped below a certain point. She was whimpering in her crate the entire drive home, and she shook as she stepped out for the first time in our backyard. We lived on Humason at the time. From that moment, I loved her. Sammie and I spent a lot of time together as we went to puppy training classes, and I would spend hours on the floor with her, working with her. Early in her life, she also spent a lot of time with Matt. Sometimes he would take her to work with him. In her adult life, she was very patient with Kylie and, later, Madison. She would also develop a very close relationship with Justin, who would sit on the floor and nuzzle her in spite of his allergies.

Sammie was a great dog through and through. She listened well. She was loyal to you no matter what, and she was full of a special energy. People would ask me if she was a puppy long after she had become an adult simply because she was so excited to be alive. She loved other people, and she loved other dogs. She loved to go places. She loved going to the vet. She loved everything. She showed the same amount of excitement for every meal, even though she often ate the same thing. She was also the biggest baby you’d ever want to meet. Everyone who met her loved her instantly. Even Matt loved her, despite himself.

Sammie was also a head turner. Because she was so big, it was hard to walk anywhere with her without someone stopping me to ask what kind of dog she was. This actually happened to me right as we were going into the clinic today. It was heartbreaking.

Sammie wasn’t stupid. She would also find a way to get into things when she wanted to. When she was younger she would find something to chew, no matter what you did, and we practically had to barricade off the room if we didn’t want her to get in. She would give you a look with her eyes when she wasn’t happy with you, and she would grunt at you too. She knew today too. She knew that we weren’t there for a good reason. When I came into the room she moved for me. I knelt down on the floor with her and cradled her in my arms. She stayed in my arms through her very last moments.

In short, there are few dogs that I’ve met in my life that can meet up to her. I am so grateful that I had her in my life when I did, and I know that this house won’t be the same without her. She will forever have a special place in my heart.

So, if you had the pleasure of knowing her, please take a moment to raise your glass, coffee cup, or sippy cup and drink to that kind, gentle soul, known here on earth as Sammie Beatrix Glushefski.

My friend Kemi challenged me to do a “gratefulness challenge” on Facebook a while back. I didn’t do it then, because I was pretty busy and I felt like most of my status updates usually reflect on something that I’m grateful for, so I didn’t think it was urgent. I’m not trying to toot my own horn or anything. It is simply a fact that in recent years I have chosen to focus my life on the positives, rather than the negatives. Nonetheless, I was challenged, I felt bad for not following through, and I’m still recovering from my disabling sickness, so I’m going to do the whole challenge (3 things to be grateful for over seven days) in one fell swoop, minus the tagging additional people. So, here is my list of 21 (yup, those are my superior math skills working) things that I’m grateful for. If religious things make you queasy, there will be some of that here, so you may want to avert your eyes.

1.    My kids
Of course, this has to be number one for me. For those of you that know me well, my kids are at the very core of who I am.
With my older sons, I was able to grow and learn with them. It was through them that I learned to prioritize what was really important in my life, and I learned to be strong when things got tough.
With my daughters, I have a second chance at raising young children, and I’m able to appreciate more, because I’m older, wiser, and more patient (still working on it though).

2.    My parents
I love my parents more than words can say. I’m so grateful for all they have taught me. My parents are not perfect, but who the heck is anyway?
Both my parents taught me so much in different ways. Growing up, I loved talking to my Dad. We would argue about things for hours while my Dad drank coffee and smoked cigarettes. So if you were ever wondering why you can usually see me with a cup of coffee (decaf of course) and happy to have a five hour debate on just about on anything, there’s your answer.

My Mom is force of nature. It’s so hard to describe her, but in a way she is almost magical. When she cooks, it tastes great. When I’m feeling down, she knows the words to say. When I’m sick, she knows what herbs will help me feel better. My Mom is not Donna Reed by any stretch of the imagination, but when I need her, she’s there.

3.     My Matt
Just because he’s at # 3, doesn’t mean that my Matt is not important to me. Matt is one of the funniest people I know. People don’t get our relationship, and that’s perfectly fine. Sometimes I don’t even get it. Matt is one of the most difficult people I have ever had to deal with (no doubt he would say the same about me). He is distant. Sometimes he won’t answer you, and I sometimes wonder how he functions among us humans. However, I can’t say I’ve ever loved anyone more in my life. He is a wonderful father, and sometimes, if you look very closely, you can see how much he cares.

4.    FOOD!!
I LOVE TO EAT!!! If you know me, you know how much I love to eat. This should almost be # 1.

5.    FOOD OUT!!
Again, if you know me, you would also know that not only do I love to eat, I love to eat out. This is how Matt and I started dating in the first place (see # 3).

6.    Going to law school
The joy I felt going to law school is hard to describe, and I’m so grateful that I had the opportunity to go.

7.    Free from addiction
No, I’m not an addict or former addict (unless we’re talking nicotine and caffeine), but I’ve seen so many face addiction to drugs and alcohol, and I thank God with every fiber of my being that I am free.

8.    My sanity
I also thank God that my brain works. I am thankful that I am able to wake up each morning and function. I am thankful that, while I find certain things to be completely aggravating, I am able to utilize self-control. In short, I am grateful for a brain that makes it possible for me to live independently.

9.    Technology
While I feel it can be invasive, I am grateful for technology, because it can be used as a tool to help keep people honest. An example would be people using smart phones to record police brutality.

Obviously, I’m also grateful for other things that advances in technology enable us to do, but that’s what comes to mind for now.

10.    My D&D game
I’m so sad I never did this before now.

11.    That I can read
Besides loving to read books, I’m so grateful, because watching my daughter who can’t read makes me comprehend how disabling it would be if I couldn’t read.

12.    My senses
Some of the things that bring me the most joy in my life depend on my senses working properly. I love looking at my children. I love to taste good food. I love to listen to music. I love to dance. I love to sing. None of this would be possible without the senses in my body working just right.

13.    Choices
I’ve heard people argue that choices make people unhappy. I couldn’t disagree more. I am so grateful for choices. I am grateful for a world where I can make different choices based on my mood or how I’m feeling. I am grateful that the beauty of choices is seen in every facial characteristic, every leaf, and every building.

14.     Recovering
I’m so grateful to God that I am recovering from my illness. I thought I was going to die, but, thankfully, I get to live another day and I’m no longer miserable.

15.    My health
My recent illness has helped me to realize how much I take my health for granted. When I was sick, I felt so discouraged. I couldn’t enjoy things the way I normally do, and I felt so disconnected. I’m so grateful that I normally don’t have to deal with that, and I’m so sorry for people who do.

16.    My dreams
You may say I dreamer or that I have ADHD (ha! get it?), but I’m glad for all of my dreams. I’m glad that what I want to do isn’t always practical. I’m glad that I’m in my thirties and I want to take up tap dancing, because, for me, this is the stuff that keeps my life interesting. This is the stuff that keeps me looking forward to a new day.

17.    My enemies
The Bible says you should bless your enemies. This seems counterintuitive, but I think I get it, and I am grateful for them. I have come under attack at various points in my life, but what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger, and I refuse to harbor resentment and hate that will only hurt me more in the end. So, thank you enemies. You know who you are.

18.    Working with great people
I’m so blessed to work with people that I like, and I’m grateful that my life has taken me down this new road.

19.    My siblings
There is a special place in my heart for my sisters and my brother. We may not always get along, we may not always see each other, we may not always talk, but my life would still be incomplete without them.

20.    Everyday blessings
I am grateful for the blessings that I see happen in my life on a daily basis. Each day is a new adventure, and each day I can find a blessing if I choose to see one.

21.    My friends
Last, but not least, I am so thankful for the many great friends in my life. I have been blessed with so many good friends in my life, and at each point I have had someone there to help guide me, to laugh with me, and to see me through hard times. I am able to remember all those times and to look forward to even better ones thanks to all of you wonderful people.

I’m currently recovering from one of the most serious bouts of illness I have faced in my years on this earth, at least from what I can remember. I was unable to eat for five and a half days, and, even now, on the seventh day (of my illness), I am still extremely weak. The experience was a curious one, not only because at one point I seriously considered the possibility that I might die (or at least be seriously injured), but also because it seemed to take me into another world.

I once read a novel, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell. The story is set in 19th Century England and follows two magicians (you guessed it…Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell). At one point in the story, Jonathan Strange is attempting to find this magic being that lives in the magic world. To do this, he ultimately has to take a potion that induces a sort of insanity. He does not lose his mind, but the experience leaves him with a darkness that was not there.

I couldn’t help thinking of this book while I lay in the emergency room at Sister’s Hospital, and since then, because this illness seemed to take me into some alternate universe. I say this, because what I saw and heard did not feel like delirium. I was able to open my eyes and see that what I was hearing and seeing wasn’t actually happening (in this “world”). This happened several times, but the first was at the hospital.

My room was like a normal hospital room, minus the outer wall- there was a large curtain in its place. There were no adjoining doors on the others walls of the room, and a window on the wall opposite the curtain. I laid in this room receiving fluids, and while I laid there I literally saw people come in my room that weren’t there, they lay things on the bedside table that weren’t there either, and had conversations that weren’t taking place. I saw a little sitting gallery where some children sat and others came to collect them from or sit there with them. Yet when I opened my eyes to sit up and look to see if there was at least an adjoining door there, there was none. There was only a wall. I wondered then, and a little now, whether I was seeing dead people. I must point out that I considered the possibility that I was distorting outside noises, but based on my observation, that was not that case.

At this point, you may be saying to yourself, “well, obviously you were dreaming…I mean you just said that your eyes were closed,” but it wasn’t like a dream. After living as long as I have, I know what a dream feels like. This was no dream.

When I got home later that night, I had a similar experience. However, this was more like dreaming, but it still felt other worldly. I was in my bed, but it didn’t feel like my bed. It felt like it took me to a different place (again some other reality or universe). This time I was in the desert participating in some social experiment where we argued over how to organize our new society. The men, one man in particular, was focused on fashioning a very large, imposing weapon, intended to encourage others to follow him. We debated the consequence of this strategy and others (yes, even in delirium/dreaming/alternate worlds/whatever I’m still arguing about these kinds of things).

My next encounter was brief and happened the next morning. I was lying in bed. I closed my eyes and was in a bed still, but this time the ceiling was extremely tall (like sky scraper tall) and the walls were extremely white. Standing above me, about as tall as the ceiling, was a metallic, robot-like, creature. It turned to walk away, and I asked (not really yelling either) whether it was “friend or foe.” It turned back towards me, bent down, and looked at me. Its head was large, metal. There was a little opening where I expected to see eyes, but, instead I saw brown dirty water sloshing around inside. The creature then stood back up and moved on.

I had another brief moment last night, but it was nothing worth describing. After my “encounters,” it makes me wonder if, like Jonathan Strange, once you’ve seen this other world, you are indelibly tainted. In other words, you may not be stuck there, but some part of you will always be attuned to it.

To my knowledge, I am not now nor have I ever been known to suffer from any mental illness, nor was I under the influence of any medication (other than non-hallucinogenic herbs) during my recovery.

I wonder if this is how John felt when he wrote Revelations.