Friday, July 23, 2004

Back to the HOMEPAGE

Just an update. I have taken the book off the site. The reason for this is that I am working on a rewrite at the moment, and I didn’t want anybody to get confused.
However, I am, as you can see, still here. And I can assure you, I am still pretty pissed off. I am contemplating going back to writing for this spot more often. We’ll see how it goes.

My friend Chris asked me today if I was writing any more for this blog. I guess he checked it and saw that there has been nothing new in a month or so, so I guess this is a logical question. And the answer to that question is simple enough: I got sick of it so I stopped.

But ironically enough, I have been thinking about doing some more work on this group. I have been writing again lately, sort of a new resurgence, or a new bit of inspiration and I have been giving some thought as to trying to redefine what I had been trying to do all along with this whole “BEING HAD” thing. I mean, I have had a look at the book and have been thinking about the notes I added to the court documents and all, and I have been wondering if I have at all even come close to making my point.

I mean, if haven’t, I could always look for excuses such as the panic over money and the collaps of my family and the disintegration of my name… I mean, the constant stress of the life I have been forced to live has taken a remarkable toll on me. And I am not sure that I presented all of the information that I did in the clearest voice that was possible. Or even that I made my point or not.

So I will take a stab at it here.

Over two years ago I went to Poland from Belarus to buy a visa to return there. The reasons for me wanting to return to Belarus were that I had a relationship with a woman that I wanted to continue and was starting a small bike business in the hopes of generating enough money to support that relationship. I was also at the time working on a Russian language play, this a project I was working on because I am an armature playwright… or some such title as that. There was also in the mix of emotions that was driving me at that time some genuine love for the place. My grandmother was from the town I was staying in, I had had amazing personal experiences there earlier and the connection I felt for the place seemed to have a positive effect on the people who lived there and I was being accepted and welcomed in a way that made the whole of the deal I was trying to get off the ground a very exciting proposition despite the lack of money I could expect. This of course due to the economic state of Belarus at the time which was by any standards, a catastrophe.

And then this remarkably stupid asshole drove his car into me near a stop light on the day I was supposed to come back and get started. I am lifetime biker. I love bikes and being associated with the bike business and I took great offence at what I saw to be an open assault on a biker. In that moment, I wasn’t thinking that I had perhaps been marked either as a courier (outlaw)or as an American (money), I was only thinking that I was having an encounter with one of those perverse drivers who takes pleasure in giving pain to bicyclists. I have met them before, people who’s egos are made artificially larger by having a few tones of steel and fiberglass wrapped around them and an gas engine under their ass. Sort of one of these “I am fast and strong now here in my car and you Mr. Wimpy two wheeler, are in my face” things. Me? I had the lane. I was just riding over to the movies, killing time waiting for my train and this guy tries to kill me because after seeing I was ahead of him at the light, decided it was too much effort to lift his foot and move it from the gas to the brake and slow down. No, this guy had to go around me and be first at the light. So, jerk-off of the year here actually speeds up and tries to make a thoroughly dangerous passing move, and then while in the middle of this “somebody is about to get killed” maneuver, this fucking guy decides to try and bash me with his car as he is passing me! This I suppose, just so I should know how big of an asshole he really was.

The guys name by the way was Tomas Zaremba by the way and may Satan spend a thousand years redefining the size of his rear aperture.

Now, I took umbrage. I thought that he should never be allowed to do this again to anybody. People like this should not be allowed to drive cars at all. It is too much power for them. It corrupts them to the point that the begin to feel that they are above their fellow man, and this combined with arrogance and violent streak means that someone, sometime is going to lose their lives, or at least suffer a great deal because of this man. I decided it was my duty to do something about this. I decided to shrink his ego and perhaps redefine for him the image of bikers in such a way as to re-install a little healthy respect that the artificial ego enhancement of being in an automobile had obviously dimmed.

So what I did was to put my bike in front of his car so he could not drive away, asked him to please step out of the car, and when he wouldn’t, I punched him right in the mouth and told him, finger point and all, that he should never, ever, ever even consider doing what he had just done again to any biker ever again.

However, his reaction to this was not what would have been expected in such a moment. Specifically, I felt I was on such moral high ground that there could be no possible reaction from him other than A: fear or B: repentance. I mean, the fucker just came within a centimeter or so of intentionally maiming or killing me. If this was a hit (who knows why?), he wasn’t trying to finish me off, so I was assuming he was just a punk who had just had a fit of road rage. But he wasn’t doing any of this. What he was doing was trying to get out of the situation. But again, not with apology, and not with any feelings of self loathing. This guy was just weaseling and trying to squirm out of the little whole he had suddenly made for himself.

So at that moment, I decided that this little psychopath was indeed a little farther gone that my little slap in the face would handle. So, I pushed off and rode over to the police station which was about 150 meters away to get a cop and have them remove this parasite from my person.

Like said, this was two years ago. What happened? Well, it turned out that the guy was a cop. Not a very smart one, not that that made any difference. But because he was a cop, the justice department in Poland decided to ride me into the ground and took with them every last penny that they could find, every last shred of my name and reputation, credit, time…

It is a hell of a long story from here. Kinda Dostoyevski like in the endless pain the have yoked me and my girl and our families and friends. And it is kind of a joke really, the sadistic ways they went about torturing me. The lies, the time, the distortion of facts. But what had made matters worse is that lack of help I got from the world. People just told me straight out that they didn’t care. I have been told that being an idealist is stupid, this by a writer. I have been told by agents of the United States of America that they had no interest in what was happening to me whatsoever.

Anyway, Chris, the real reason I stopped writing these blogs is that I myself have become very tired of speaking about this. I think it might be like that move “Amadaus” where Soliari keeps Mozart at work on a requiem for the dead, because he can see the state of depression it has left him in. I just can’t stand speaking about this shit any more. Nobody listened and nobody cared. Ideas, ideals… I have tried to make sense of my own life forever by basin it on such philosophies as “And unexamined life is not worth living” and that truth and honor and righteousness were worth more than money. And really, and this is especially with the bikes, and in my original months in Belarus, my willingness to be straight, to care, to take people seriously was having a positive effect. It always had for me in the past. I wasn’t rich, but people knew that when I said something, it was the truth.

And now, really, all of that is gone. And there is no money even to eat. And that punk Zaremba, he has gone on to absolutely prove what a pariah, what a parasite, what a low life, usurious scumbag he was. And the people of the polish Justice system (and for that matter, the folk in the American Embassy) have done nothing but to prove that they see themselves exactly as Zaremba did- above the law, about people, above justice…

And I am, I think, more sick because of this than anything.

So anyway, I am seeking a good attorney and I think I might settle for perhaps, oh, $125,000,000 in damages, both real and punitive. And I want I want my story out in the public so that this festering sore can get some air and perhaps heal. And I want that the situation that allowed my torture to take place, be removed and replaced by something fair and just and humane, this for the good of the next fellow.

So, I am going to try and re-write the book. I am going to try (again) and get a publisher. I am going to get the story out into the world (again).

Anyway, this is what I had to say today… I guess I still have a few items left over, and a few people to write to. If you got any comments, just write me a letter to and I will do my best to accommodate any requests.

Thanks for listening.