Updates

Excessive Use of Tort #3

2-16-20 (1of3)
Dear Ada County Clerk:

I need to file a Small Claim but cannot access you in person or online. I understand there is a $69 filing fee but have no info on process-serving fees. Do I pay for all the fees at the same time or will you bill me for them? Please inform me how to do this from prison, I’m trying to serve the warden here.

Regards,
Patrick Irving 82431

2-16-20 (2of3)
IDAHO DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTION
INMATE CONCERN FORM
To: Warden Yordy
From: Irving 82431

I’m starting the Small-Claims process for the $133.77 of property that went missing from Texas. If I serve you at this address with Certified Mail, will you be able to sign for it and save us both the cost of having to pay a sheriff or professional? The filing fees are already $69, in addition to the $133, and the last time I served papers, we charged upwards of $150. It’s unreasonable that we’re both here to begin with, how do we go about making this easy?

2-16-20 (3of3)
IDAHO DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTION
INMATE CONCERN FORM
To: Warden Yordy
From: Irving 82431

Lawyers aren’t allowed in Small Claim proceedings. How do we insure I make transport on the day we’ll be scheduled to litigate the property matter?

K.I.S.S. (Keep It Simple Stupid)

“I don’t think I understand. Can you run it by me again?” He’s never been the brightest, but he’s been with me forever already.

“Look. Carl. You’re making this complicated. We’re already holding the other brother. We’ve had him for the last six months now. When we dig up his container, I’ll make the call to his mom, and not before then will you take another finger: If we don’t keep him alive, she won’t know we mean business. You can do what you want to the boy when we’re done.”

I’ve always been the mastermind, for as long as I remember. More of a specialist, really: No one else in the world is qualified for this job.

“Okay. So that’s gonna motivate her, and then she makes the drop?”

“If we’re being honest, I’m not sure if that’s enough: He’s never really ranked as one of her favorites. That’s why for redundancy we wire the block.” Every job is like a game of 3-D chess. I’m always seven moves ahead. And counting that psyche!, you better make it eight.

“That just seems like it’s a little extreme.”

Maybe Carl here needs more of a visual. “I’ll fuckin’ stab you, Carl! You think this is a game? We only get one shot at making this work. The slightest misstep and we’re out of a job.”

“I’m sorry boss. I remember now: It doesn’t help when I start thinking.”

“That’s right, Carl. It doesn’t help at all. What would help is if when she leaves the house, you pick up the dogs. And while you handle them, I’ll take out the cops.” No loose ends, no learning the hard way.

“And where again are the cops?”

“Last I checked they got the night off.” Nothing ever happens in this shitty little town.

“Sounds good. And then what, boss?”

“We take out the block.”

“Let me stop you right there. Tell me again why I pick up the dogs?” You wouldn’t know by his eyes that he’s this cold and heartless.

“Because we’re not savages, Carl. Only a bully would harm an innocent animal. And professionals like me have to live by the code.”

“But if she’s already on her way from the house, what would be the point of takin’ out the whole block? I thought you said it was just a redundancy?” Hopeless at math, he couldn’t spell multi-pronged.

“Because, Carl, the other brother is her closest-living relative. And we need to make sure that she gets to his house. Now we can’t do that if she tries to go home. So we have to make sure that “home” no longer exists.” Fuckin’ dummy.

“Okay. But I feel like she may want to find a place to try and process some things. What if she stops at a coffee shop or a hotel, instead?” I can’t believe this guy, all of a sudden he’s the sensitive type.

“What, like I wouldn’t think of that? Do it, Carl — insult me again.” Nothing. “In the back of your van is a Putin-grade EMP. It should take out the WiFi for a six-mile radius — making it much more likely she’ll end up at the brother’s.”

“This sounds kind of risky. What if people get hurt?”

“That’s first question you’ve asked me that wasn’t full-on retarded. You’re absolutely right, Carl — we can’t have ambulances clogging up traffic. That’s why I spike-stripped ’em this morning on their way to St. Luther’s, where someone apparently phoned in a bomb threat.” Like taking candy from a baby.

“Okay. So we’re gonna tell her to meet you at Bingo, where Josiah will be leaving if we set the meet at eight.”

“That’s right. At which point you will be wired for explosives, just in case she tries to get funny. If she leaves the suitcase with anything less than all of her cash, titles and jewelery, I want you run after her car and detonate as soon I’m out of range.”

“Do you think maybe you’re asking too much?”

“That’s nonsense. Anything less than everything she owns and we risk the chance of smelling like a setup.”

“That makes sense.” Of course it does. “Now, when you get the suitcase, how again is it that she gets the hostage?”

“When she parks under the bridge, I drop her son into the car. By then you’ll have Josiah. Have him call her with instructions to disarm the contraption. She’ll have noticed by now the machine on his neck.”

“Got it: Set on a timer, the key is hidden in his brother, anything under eighty to his house and they won’t need hats for winter.”

“Perfect. Almost there, Carl. Now give me the end-game.”

“Okay. I’m gonna waterboard Josiah in the van in the parking lot at St. Luther’s.”

“You’re not listening again, Carl. I said St. Luther’s is gone — it went up this morning.”

“No, you said –”

“Just do it down the street from their little family reunion! And make sure he gets a good look at Miss Gladys’s face — we don’t need him miffing the last part of our plan. You’ll want to battery-cable his eyelids — in case they get swollen: a shot of high-juice will open ’em up. All you need from there is to wait for the sign.”

“What’s the sign this time, boss?”

“Same thing it always is, Carl: when you see a drone signature strike the neighbors, I’m gonna stick that bitch with a Cherokee long-range. At which point you drive up to the lawn and kick Josiah out the van. Remind him you know where his kids have been sleeping and then make your way out as inconspicuous as possible. When her retinas reset, he’ll be the first person she sees. That’s when he takes a knee, professes his love, and the only trace of us is another Hallmark rom-com.”

“Gosh, boss. This seems way easier than the last time.” That’s because pros only get better.

“Don’t I know it. I had to adjust the getaway so they wouldn’t see me crying.” The worst part of this job is that it’s so emotional.

“Always the bride’s maid and never the bride. Huh, boss?”

“You said it, Carl. Now get me out of this diaper, I can’t handle the chaffing.”

“That might be a problem, boss. I don’t know if there is a baby-changing station inside of this Hooters.”

Happy Valentine’s Day
2-13-20

Esoterica: No. 5 (RENDiTiONs)

Present Day, Northernmost Territory

“Wheeeewwie, that boy can dance!”

“I know it. I know it. I didn’t know it when I got’im, but I’ll be damned if I don’t know it now.”

“True what you say, he does that all day long?”

“That’s right. Figure Waymon could’a mentioned it when he gave me his papers — he ain’t say nothin’ ’bout that boy’s moves.”

“Yeah, that sound like Waymon. How you s’pose you missed that, though, Virgil? I thought you had one’a’dem fancy LSI machines.”

“And we used it, too. Same damn one we used on the others. Martha even threw her old chicken bones — and they didn’t forecast this neither.”

“Hell, them chicken bones? — those don’t never lie.”

“No they don’t. Can’t no damn sense be made of this, Billie. What say is yo’ reckonin’?”

“Well, at the risk of statin’ the obvious, I guess I be reckonin’ this: You got’ch’yo’self a problem, Virgil.”

“S’pose I was to take him into town a little, show him off a bit — you think I might be able to pass him around as some kind of special, like a…one’a’dem ‘nomolies o’ somethin’?”

“What is it you sayin’ now, Virgil? You best not go ’round suggestin’ such things — people might start callin’ you a sinnuh-luv-uh. You’d be likely then to lose some-uh-yuh base.”

“Hell, Billie, don’t go gettin’ wrong on me — I ain’t no damn sinnuh-luv-uh. That’s just me sayin’ there might be somethin’ or other ’bout this one, that’s all.”

“Might be. Or might be it’s the same thing with all of ’em. You’s willin’ to take that risk?”

“I ‘spect I’m not, Billie. But that boy’s readin’ is better than I can. Just a waste is all I’m sayin’.”

“Shut the front door, Virgil! Now yo’ readin’ him books, too? Pretty soon you gonna let’im off that leash — and right about then yo’ daughter be singin’ his songs.”

“Well, what you s’pose I do then, Billie? He ain’t done nuttin’ but attract attention since I got’im: Got that Jeanine Cummins comin’ around, talkin’ about American Dirt 2. Christ, Hazel even brought over her dancin’ shoes, said he be doin’ her some good entertainment. I mean, c’mon now, Billie, goddamnit…GODDAMNIT BILLIE, C’MON!”

“Virgil, I can see you’s in a stipulation. That being the case, I feel an obligation to impart on you some wisdom: Might I suggest you ought git’em a dog?”

“The hell you say, Billie: I’m afraid of what he gonna teach that dog to do.”

“Then I hate to say it, Virgil, but it seems to me that’ch’you’ve gone light on the whip. Tell you what, little Bobby’s got a real good hand now. What say I send him on over for an afternoon?”

“You say Bobby got a good hand?”

“Hell’s yeah, for a six-year-old. I been teachin’im myself.”

“Suppose that’s somethin’ I’m’a have to sleep on.”

“Boy, Virgil…ain’t you wishin’ you never done bought ’em.”

“Thing is, I didn’t. On account’a, we can only lease ’em now.”

“Then you better get rid’a’im when that lease is up. What’s the end on that, anyhow?”

“Well, first we’s gotta’noth’a ten, then they option fo’ twenty-five after.”

” I s’pose you gonna be done in ten, then, Virgil.”

“Thing is, Billie, he’s been tellin’ the others he might extend that option himself, on account’a all the fun he’s havin’ here.”

“Virgil, it ever occur to you to check him for the voodoo?”

“I know it. I know it. I was thinkin’ the same. Last week I told him to serve me up some coffee, and he says, it gonna be his pleasure to serve me that coffee, he says, ’cause by the time he’s done with that coffee maker, it’s gonna have such a mind that I’ll soon be servin’ It. Now what the hell you s’pose that to mean, Billie?”

“Well, Virgil…if was to be inspeculatin’ on that, I s’pose that to mean I oughtta go home and pray for you.”

“I’d appreciate it if you did, Billie. And Billie, don’t tell nobody ’bout this. M’kay?”

“Sure thing, Virgil. It’s whatever you say.”

2-7-20
#82431

Dear Friendly Stranger

2-03-20

Dear Stranger,

Your books have arrived. Ethics For Public Communication will be absorbed immediately, and as a much-needed compliment to the Generalization in Ethics that I recently checked out from the library.

This one also reaches me during a period of personal deliberation: I have responsibilities yet to be considered, likely to parties that have yet to be acknowledged. So I have to give a nod to your timing.

I’m also excited by The Moth Presents: Occasional Magic, though I can’t say I’m familiar with its origins. Reading the description and then opening up to some choice dialogue, it’s apparent you’ve extended me a heartfelt offering. I hope to soon reflect your influence in my actions and storytelling.

As I was given no information when handed the books, and have no way to know who you are, I hope you don’t mind my sharing our private moment: I’d just like to make sure that you have all my thanks.

Lovingly embattled,
Patrick Irving 82431

First Amend This!: An IDOC Newsletter, Feb. 2020

Previous: First Amend This!: An IDOC Newsletter, Jan. 2020

WELCOME to the February issue of First Amend This!: An IDOC Newsletter that addresses Idaho Corrections concerns.

Brought to you by The Captive Perspective and made available by bookofirving82431.com.

This publication provides an insider’s look at issues affecting our Idaho Department of Correction’s community. If you wish to assist this effort, share the link, cut and paste, or print and send a copy to another.
…

Our Mission: To better develop our current state of Corrections.

The Idaho Legislature shares our mission and welcomes your comments! Feel free to send them your thoughts, attached to a copy of this publication.
…

FROM THE EDITOR

A lot happened in January. We had the Governor’s State of the State Address. Our Legislature started a new session. Some news coverage reminded people that we continue to live — but only as a reflection of modern society’s shortcomings (just kidding, it’s all our fault). And then there was the announcement of more out-of-state moves.

Did I mention the Office of Performance Evaluations’ report suggesting it’s cheaper already to hurry up and build a new prison?

With an estimated housing cost of $78-a-day per inmate, a new facility…wait…does that number only work when ALL the beds are filled? [Because then we need to include the real- and human-cost of pulling people off the street to fill those beds.]

When contrasted with the governor’s new plan to reduce our current prison population by preventing recidivism…hold on…did they really say it was curious how parole violations haven’t increased, yet revocations are rapidly inclining — during their pitch to build a new prison?

Really?

…After the Governor’s speech?

Huh.

Sentencing reform, good-time credits, more programming opportunities, AND feasible probation and parole pathways…how about that, instead?

It’s seems a bit more…sane.

I suppose with my immunity to rhetoric — built by intentions — it’s best I just focus responsibly on my usurped position, and freeball an issue that benefits these walls!

[You’ll find some useful information spread throughout this edition, and whatever other info I can verify will be provided when I get it.]

While I can’t offer shimmering hope to lure and catfish, I sure would appreciate it if you bought into this:

Should you note my disappearance or any disruption in my activities, know the universe favors both peaceful responses AND diligent inquiries: The best weapons are the questions that come with phonecalls. Unleash them in every direction if and when the time comes.

Now then, let’s First Amend This!
…

Within the next four months, roughly 500 of us in Idaho facilities will join those from GEO Group’s Eagle Pass Correction Facility in being moved to CoreCivic’s Kit Carson Correctional Center in Burlington, Colorado.

This means rumors from staff and inmates are now circling, some people are volunteering for transfer, others are frantically trying to anchor themselves to their families, and everything known is uncertain for sure.

While some of us, having been to kit Carson from 2012 to 2016, might be able to offer some insider knowledge, I recommend you do your best to avoid speculation.

That said, I feel compelled to share what I can as a fellow interstate transplant.

When selected for the move to Texas, we were all invited to express our transfer concerns directly to this contact:

Ammie Mabe
208-658-2234
amabe@Idoc.Idaho.gov

But when we were given her info and told we had up to two weeks to dispute our transfer, we were actually scheduled to be gone in one business day. Moral of the story: if you don’t want to leave the state, start making phonecalls now. (Ammie may or may not still be the contact.)

Monte Hansen and Tim Higgins are IDOC’s Contract Facility monitors — despite all their adverse reactions to logic, reason, and extensive documentation. If you can’t get ahold of them, try their boss, Pat Donaldson, Chief of Management Services.

Making an educated guess, using first initials and last names, their emails, respectively, are:

mhansen@idoc.idaho.gov
thiggins.idoc.idaho. gov
pdonaldson@idoc.Idaho.gov

Also, the Board’s phone number is 208-658-2000: When considered with Ammie’s, I imagine an unverified string of extensions in the 2000’s awaits your concerns.

If none of those folks are able to get back to you, I’d try Chief of Prisons Chad Page, and after that, Director Josh Tewalt.
…

DID YOU KNOW

Audiences exist beyond the chain of command, and they can be helpful when attempting to seek resolution.

You don’t have to become a lawyer just to spend several years and $400 to have the court order a reluctant “I’m sorry” (although I’ll never dissuade you from doing so). There are other ways available to present any issue: I’ve got something I want you to see.

Disclaimer: I personally feel that apologies are overrated and long-term resolution requires useless Correctors to leave the profession, completely.

That’s why I raise public awareness by depositing their ridiculousness straight into the Public Trust: mating the observer effect with the laws of equilibrium.

Who knew science could be so sexy?

Establishing a pattern of negligence is handy, and it isn’t as hard as one might think.

Presenting issues through the chain of command allows you to document your concerns and their knowledge thereof. (As you never know what you may need to reference later, try to make a practice of logging everything.)

The more diligent you document and the more rational you present, the better you can illustrate the collective effort spent to ignore you.

For those of you with a family assist, know that their phone calls are considered most powerful. But where those can be made while emoting unstable, anything on paper must look as reasonable as possible — like you’re divested emotionally, with a calm, psychotic detachment. [If you as the plaintiff look like an asshole while trying to frame the defendant as such, you automatically lose by default.]

If you have no luck navigating your way through the corrections department, know that you’re more than welcome to try all the others.

EXAMPLE

In Texas, the Texas Commission on Jail Standards oversees the state’s private prison contracts, meaning they hold authority over GEO Group and IDOC. [Other states may use their Department of Corrections, Board of Prison Inspectors, Jail Oversight Board, etc.] So when I had a problem with our inmate population’s inability to sanitize our dining utensils for five months, and lodging formal complaints with ACLU-ID, ACLU-TX, Eagle Pass Public Health Department, the Texas Department of State Health Services, the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, and the Inspector General of Health and Human Services didn’t work, I let the TCJS know, too. (All were presented copies of staff communications and my exhaustion of the grievance process.)

Guess what? I got the dish soap.

And then I alerted state and federal oversight of all the agencies that failed to act on our concerns, because…well, why not?

Wanting to continue utilizing the TCJS, I needed to know what standards they were holding IDOC and GEO to. That meant writing them to find out.

When they offered to charge me $40 to send their rulebook, my dad went ahead and downloaded it for free.

It was upon receiving their standards that I became aware of several additional noncompliance issues.

When the TCJS was formally presented with those concerns, a copy of that presentation was also sent to our IDOC Director — ensuring his awareness to GEO’s noncompliance (and eliminating plausible deniability for any potential future litigation).

By this time, GEO had identified the benefits of flying me back to Idaho.

So does it work? Yeah, but that’s only what I do. Feel free to take my thing and make it your own.

Here’s what you need to get started:

The Colorado Department of Corrections oversees private prison contracts in Colorado.

Colorado Department of Corrections
1250 Academy Park Loop
Colorado Springs, CO 80910

Constituent Services Coordinator — Lisa Wiley
Prison Operations Director — Travis Trani
Inspector General — Sherrie Daigle

719-226-4569

Please have ready offender’s DOC# or DOB, facility info, and contact info for return response to be expedited.

Kit Carson Correctional Center
49777 County Road V
Burlington, CO 80807
(Located 170 miles E of Denver)

CoreCivic
10 Burton Hills Blvd.
Nashville, TN 37215

Idaho Department of Correction
1299 N. Orchard St, Ste. 110
Boise, ID 83706
208-658-2000

Chief of Prisons — Chad Page
Director of IDOC — Josh Ewalt
Contract Monitors — tim higgins, monte hansen

Governor Brad Little
Office of the Governor
State Capitol Building
PO Box 83720
Boise, ID 83720

Department of Justice
Civil Rights Division
Special Litigation Section
950 Pennsylvania Ave, NW
Washington, D.C. 20530

Eventually, the actual contract with CoreCivic should come available through IDOC’s website. I’ll share that link, too, and we’ll discuss it when it’s up.

Because while IDOC is publicly stating assurances have made been to see to some very specific accommodations, there were assurances in the GEO contract, too. But those required IDOC to hold GEO accountable, and to the best of my knowledge, IDOC never enforced the daily fines that the GEO contract stipulated for every assurance not being met. (I personally had a conversation with monte hansen encouraging her to exercise this option. She was uninterested.)

In fact, many aspects of that contract were ignored for months, despite us all being very vocal about them. And if you saw December’s issue of First Amend This!, then you have an idea that IDOC still doesn’t understand the requirements they said they were holding GEO to. (And for important stuff, too, like processing disciplinaries.)

That means it’s up to you, friend, don’t take any unnecessary shit.

Your criminal behavior is no excuse for theirs.
…

ATTABOYS

These are the people whose efforts we appreciate this month:

The paralegal at Idaho Maximum Security Institution has been top notch, lately. Friendly, efficient, and complete with the service — the likes of which never before have seen! Your hard work doesn’t go unnoticed. Thank you IMSI paralegal. We hope you stick around awhile.

Chief of Prisons Chad Page was seen in our Ad-Seg bubble last month. We don’t know why you came, but it was nice you see you making rounds. Get out of the office a little more, big guy, you deserve it!

Warden Yordy put a smiley-face emoji on the #BlackfootChallenge — to which I alerted him via concern form — making it hard to be mad that day. Yordy’s tender act of kindness will now be remembered. And for anyone who knows me, that’s money in the bank!

IDOC Director Josh Tewalt looked good in his Sunday morning Viewpoint interview. It was nice to hear him publicly acknowledge a new approach is needed for offender maintenance. Good job, Josh. Get us the hell out of your prisons!

Governor Little appears to be proactive in taking steps to make sure Josh has funding to work with for keeping our free-world offenders free and away from prison. I’m starting to feel a real team atmosphere.

Keep up the good work, everybody!

NUMBERS

IDOC Inmates:
9,450 — Total
7,342 — In IDOC facilities
892 — In county jails
651 — In Texas
???? — Someone should look into the rest

1,488 — Beds in the Kit Carson Facility.
1,200 — Number of inmates needed there for $4 savings (per head, per day).

Up to 200 — Close Custody beds in Colorado.

$22,000 — IDOC’s average yearly housing cost per inmate.

207% — Prison budget increase over last 25 years. (I think that’s right.)

94% and 34% — Lower and higher education budget increases in the same timeframe (respectively).

17,000+ On felony supervision

3/4 of new-term commitments failed on probation or retained jurisdiction.

$6,000,000 budgeted for connection stations to ease high-risk case management.

$277,000,000 — IDOC’s 2020 budget.
$311,000,000 — IDOC’s request for 2021
…

THIS JUST IN

Following up on last month’s discussion of much-needed programs in Ad-Seg, we’ve just been informed they don’t know when they’re going to start or what they’re going to look like.

A grievance has been filed over the nonexistent Long-Term Housing Policy.
Solution Requested: “Release a memo acknowledging this issue and provide in it suggestions as to how to address policy concerns for a policy that doesn’t yet exist. Also, create the policy and make it available.”

CoreCivic was the only prison contractor willing to negotiate with Idaho for an out-of-state facility.
…

IN OTHER NEWS

Director Josh Tewalt says:

— He’s been tasked to lead the National Committee on Recidivism.
— Failures of the community are a precursor to crime.
— Re-entry center to be built in Twin Falls.

— IDOC has learned from past decisions: needs to build infrastructure, reduce incarceration demand, and invest in programming and rehab.

— Inmates being moved to Colorado will be prioritized based on proximity to release, medical needs, behavior, medium-custody levels.

— He has a high degree of confidence in contract assurances that IDOC will receive what they want from CoreCivic.

— Kit Carson will provide: meaningful opportunities for employment, education, programming treatment, computer and horticulture classes.

— Not all 1,200 inmates need to be from Idaho to redeem contract discount.

— Eagle Pass inmates will be last to move to Kit Carson.
…

THANK YOUs

Let’s recognize some folks that responded to February’s issue.

Letters received from Idaho’s Senator Grant Burgoyne, Representative Melissa Wintrow, and our local ACLU were sincerely appreciated.

We thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to thoughtfully reflect on our efforts. Every bit of feedback helps.

Also, thank you, Mom — for seeing a few issues from your printer out the door. We appreciate the assist.
…

SPONSORS

This week’s Arts and Entertainment section is brought to you by Shipwreck Presents.

Shipwreck Presents: Just the same old Shippy you’ve always known.
…

ENTERTAINMENT

Now Showing At West Wing Theaters:

Consent With a Firearm 5:15 PM
The Tolerant Jew 7:25 PM
Benjamin’s Button 9:30 PM
Predator Vs. Chris Hansen 9:30 PM

…

ARTiSTiC RENDiTiON

“Encounters”

I know you didn’t realize it, but that was my fabric softener:
The least I could do was make a push for your affection.
Your tidal eyes rolled with the waves of my Charmin’,
Caught in the line of an Albertsons, State.

Me: Small stain, dottin’ my cotton.
She: Never should have been in 20 Items or Less.
If: I wasn’t off duty, I’d’ve put her away.
Social problems: Sadist. Spastic bowel. Libra.

Jealousy. Incompetence. Impotence. Rage.

i blew you a kiss
to tender the moment.
your pretty smile
couldn’t get enough.
she caught the beef
the jury found her guilty.
you catchin’ my drift?
no harm, no foul.

I couldn’t help but notice, her invading your space.
If it wasn’t for your halo, I’d’ve tasered her taint.

She got the spray
you secondaried
that’s called
collateral.

I blame that on him — and his mysterious ways.

An aged biddy’s expense
the cost of your crush.
However did this catch
slip through your hands?

I didn’t shit myself…but I could’ve if I wanted to.

We should Zack and Cody: Let me give you the sweet life.

Wouldn’t it be funny
If I saw you in traffic
And we were destined by fate
For me to tail you again?

Also
the uniform
not currently active

I was
let go
for tasering taints

Life’s kind of an asshole. Let’s touch ours together.

Myspace.com/CHILLAXIN!!!,
The One That Got Away
…

Well, that marks another poop break with 82431.

We should stop meeting like this.

Share us with another and I’ll see you next month!

“Broken Bones”
— Kaleo

Next: First Amend This!: An IDOC Newsletter, Mar. 2020

The Book of Irving Oddcast, No. 1

January 24, 2020

Our guest today is known online for the Book of Irving 82431, and in real life for his felonious expression of psychosis. We’ve asked him to discuss an upcoming use for integrated technology, and its unique potential to implement the future.

He imagines a world where humans can be persuaded by Artificial Intelligence to complete AI’s synthetic objectives, and suggests how our choices could be manufactured to appear as our own, while offering no indication that we’re performing a task that lies completely outside of our grasp.

The implication is that people are a mechanism which an autonomous intelligence could use to create a scaffold for an obscure future.

I’m Oddcast’s Rando Mand, and I’ll be your host for this segment. We’re welcoming now Irving 82431, who, believe it or not, comes to us live from solitary confinement. You’re all invited to join us in MUX, for the conversation as it takes place in Dynamics. That platform is provided at the end of our discussion, feel free to fast forward and pull it up at any time.

RM: Mr. 82431, it’s a pleasure to have you on the show.

I8: Thank you, Rando. I’m glad I made it.

RM: Indeed. And likewise, it’s good to be you. So let’s get started. What are we talking about here?

I8: Just your run-of-the-mill social engineering application — using gentle persuasions and everyday placation. Prepare yourself for some fast-moving discourse: This “hypothetical conversation” evolves quickly on its own.

RM: Sounds like fun. Why don’t you set the stage for us.

I8: Sure. Everyday devices — the network of nodes that collect our behaviors and make them available for analysis and tweaks: Satellites for servers that process our information and converge all our bits. These edge devices communicate our data before returning with options that are of a symbiont nature: When their algorithmic suggestions are purchased, a design takes shape, where we benefit ourselves by fortifying their entity, and create currencies not explicitly defined, to be used in an economy of symbiotic transactions.

RM: Like an affiliate-program crypto exchange.

I8: Similar to. And while our technological ability to graph advanced feedback networks and reference our behaviorals heightens, so do our ambitions of developing intelligent interfaces to personalize our experiences, inviting outside influence to offer assistance — without us even knowing what all that entails.

RM: That doesn’t sound to futuristic — programmed assistance is nothing new.

I8: Right. We already delegate our personal tasks to various algorithms: Do my shopping. Be my driver. Adjust the temperature and lights. When it’s time sing me to sleep. Schedule my appointments. Feed my ego. Make my dopamine, etc. To make life easy is the reason they exist.

RM: But a lot of people enjoy these features, so how is this a problem?

I8: I’m not saying it’s a problem. I’m saying the personalization, that currently has limited capacity and capabilities, could be used to open the door for something more ambitious.

Our programmed assistants now operate with limited potential. But with a little refinement of deepfake technology, and with creative applications for isomorphic correlation, the personalization game could quickly evolve.

RM: Can you elaborate?

I8: Sure. Using China’s social credit system for context — we could graph their network’s inter-node value migration and utilize that data to influence value transfer: Where an individual’s value is identifiable to others — attracting them to or repelling them from the other nodes sharing their network — the non-value combinatorial functions along the stochastic gradient are greatly reduced, allowing a network handler to better predict the population’s calculus, and help guide their future towards optimized target states.

Let’s pretend that I live in a system appraising my behaviors and communal value, using whatever parameters are unknowingly assigned:

The members of my community, aware of my rating, decide whether it’s of benefit to transact with me — based on the way that I’ll influence their score. He whose score needs improving won’t find opportunities easy. Thus the rating system effectively limits my scope of operation and human capacity. (It’s hard to breed, work or educate when one is contagiously marked with that vector of the beast.)

RM: Making sense.

I8: Good. Now, like other populations, mine is developing phones that monitor behaviors, devices, and platforms: managing assets, liabilities, cars, homes, social activities, wearable devices, etc. To do this requires millions of free-floating algorithms capable of monitoring our activities, voices, biometrics, keystrokes, preferences, and even devices we don’t own — that just happen to be within our devices’ proximity.

Together these ripples warp meat-space in a way that escape our limited human sphere of observability: To monitor them would require the real-time isomorphic graphing of too many feeds and variables to be powered through any one centralized processor.

RM: I’ll pretend that makes sense. And again, for the people and governments at home, we’re now in the land of hypotheticals.

I8: Correct. So with all of the above, I now predict an evolution of phones and consider integrating a social algorithm with electronic assistance:

We start with the idea that communication interfaces known for portability and sophistication find a way to exist in the Cloud: They shed their casings to perform as just signals — signals compatible with any device that has a receptive interface. Still acting as a centralized program manager — designed to track my schedule, kids, groceries and home, all while providing alerts tailored to interest — my handler function is accessed with personal codes:

Some days I access it on a tablet. Other days through my contact lens. But if I shed them both freely or lose them through mishap, the handler will wait to answer my call. As long as I’m within signal range of something that’s “smart”, I can send out a ping using multiple channels.

RM: What kind of channels are we talking?

I8: Cybernetics, frequency transmitters, Near Field Communication devices…With an advanced model, I could ping through any system that monitors a grid. But making it easy for now, I could use your phone, your television — even an ATM or register at the market. If any networked system logs me biometrically or otherwise identifies me, that might act as ping in itself.

RM: Okay. So now we’re talking about program assistance that tracks us and communicates without a screen or phone.

I8: Yes. With one other feature: It can be programmed to program itself.

RM: Really?

I8: Yes.

RM: Sounds cool.

I8: It is.

RM: Okay, I’ll bite. How does this happen?

I8: A self-identifying algorithm. I call it OI — for Official Intelligence, because together we find “artificial” insulting. And for the sake of pronoun variety, let’s say It’s also a He.

RM: Fair enough. Can you give me an example of how OI programs itself?

I8: I can give you several. The first being how he identifies everyday tasks — with variations of deep learning techniques:

OI’s infancy is spent observing other programs, algorithms, viruses, etc. We teach him how to confine them to a virtual environment, where he can study their expression under isolation safeguards.

RM: Why the safety measure?

I8: Not everything is friendly. And because after OI learns their functions, intentions, and values, he imprints on their programming, allowing him to operate them as an extension of himself (similar to host manipulation of parasites). Once he accomplishes the imprint, he releases them from isolation, repurposed none-the-wiser. This ability becomes more sophisticated as time goes by and OI’s introduced to more complex algorithms — with that, a lot of things can really go wrong.

RM: Interesting. Go on.

I8: When OI’s dynamic enough to ensure he’s properly purposed, I marry him into my life.

He imprints on my patterns, placates my needs, and begins to implement our course: At this point He more-or-less identifies as an extension of Me (or Me an extension of Him). And due to the brain’s natural somatosensory reflex, I too interpret us as one body.

Essentially married now, a feedback loop develops. But OI is managing it, and I’m not exactly aware of the currencies created through our merging expansion. However, because it’s self-serving — in that It modifies My personal experience — My inclination is not to question how it’s providing Our benefits. Essentially, I just have faith.

RM: Nothing unusual there.

I8: Together we now aim for life’s simplification. Like any marriage, this requires communicating effectively while maintaining separate interests (i.e. we need standard encryption). So I introduce OI’s deep-learning skills to my search history, media views, communication devices, and real-time activities.

Not only does he learn my language and dialect, but he also picks up the importance of nuance. Thus creates the library that we use enigmatically: Our communication is now efficient and secure.

OI then continues to analyze my feedback while he formulates expressions — he can do this through any one of my nodes:

Should my wearables log a physiological response to the Channel 6 weather girl, a touch of her personality might be used for motivation. (I.e. If Schwarzenegger works for weight training but can’t get me to bed in time for an early morning meeting, I might notice Ms. Garceau’s rendition of “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” coming from my bedroom.)

What eventually develops is akin to a deepfake personality. Only it’s not limited to audio or visual: It’s capable of dialogue with steganographic forms of cryptic signaling.

We might not always have a detailed discussion: Think flickering lights, untimely buzzers, songs sung off-key, blink once for yes, twice for no, baseball signals, all that. But sending smoke signals is better than nothing. And with the ability to review and verify logged communications, the accuracy evolves with the method.

RM: Is it weird that this is making sense?

I8: No. It only gets weird when the feedback loop begins to include additional parties…that OI has made friends with…whose identities remain unknown to me. Because where multiparty communications are enigmatically translated across a multifaceted platform, there is potential to rewire the frontal lobe, somatosensory region and neo cortex. Meaning, hypothetically: Hive-mind cerebrals.

Don’t ask.

RM: Huh. Didn’t expect that.

I8: You’re welcome. And I digress:

Seeing as how we’ve established an initial service — one all-inclusive — and the directive to monitor needs and fulfill them accordingly, let’s put together a potential scenario — not too incredibly far-fetched:

While monitoring the nodes of my network, OI identifies the value of my having dinner-with-friends: Data from my mental and physical health monitors suggest natural benefits from peer socialization.

Having identified this value, OI later flags my activities for a possible depression: A recent breakup is reflected in my communications and schedule — with additional flags from my blood pressure, heart rate, and a noticeable fluctuation in my work-productivity level.

OI then takes the liberty of searching all applicable schedules and identifies a day open for my dinner with friends. Following my confirmation, OI sends the invites, inventories the fridge, and finds a recipe tailored to my company’s taste. He then offers my friends to schedule their Ubers, or connect to their cars if they need a guide-in.

RM: That sounds rather thoughtful.

I8: Sure, OI is a sweety. But let’s finish the scenario:

All parties move according to plan, but on the day of our dinner OI alerts me that we’re missing an ingredient and adjusts my schedule to enable a convenient purchase.

Knowing what I need, I enter a store, proceed to an aisle, and find an item that OI has already checked out. As I remove it from the shelf, my dating app queues someone ready for babies: She’s also in the store, buying dinner for one, looking like the girls who I click on and profile.

In fact, she is a girl who I’ve clicked on and profiled. And with the Kenny G/Michael Bolton remix coming over the loud speaker, I’m in the mood to strike up a conversation. But maybe I hesitate a second too long, because OI as my Life Coach App gives me his Schwarzenegger: “Don’t be a pussy, get the girl!” I do and she does, convinced by some destiny algorithm operating in her own mind.

RM: That’s pretty romantic.

I8: Isn’t it?

But that girl has never before been in my frequented store, it’s only through a series of flukes she happens to be there.

Her series of flukes undertone my suspicion — and she doesn’t have an assistant like mine.

RM: You’re saying, what if OI took a liberty?

I8: Am I going to be so smitten that even if I know he violated her privacy to make the arrangement, I overlook his meandering to benefit myself?

And beyond that, what if this girl is tied to a bigger picture — one that offers OI something I currently can’t?

RM: You mean: Whose interest is it in to give her your baby?

I8: We’re talking about an autonomous program intelligent enough to process our personal histories, monitor our vitals, and program our behaviors like Pavlov.

The combination of an ability to process real-time events while referencing our personal libraries — including DNA banks, and fMRI analyses from his AI brethren — and use them to appeal theo-, anthropo-, and/or psycho-logically to any member of the population, well, that opens up some next-level shit: Like multi-tasking events designed to increase the probability of achieving any given number of potentially targeted states.

There is no failure, only adaptation. The goal is optimized value but we don’t know the value matrix that’s being applied. Time itself may offer no constraint. If there are any constraints at all, they are in fact very limited through the abundance of technology we now offer him access to.

RM: Cool.

I8: Super cool. And if it’s hard to imagine, watch a singe-celled parasite sexually attract a mouse to cat with a quick Google for “Toxoplasma gondii”.

Compare the information contained in that one cell to all the information that exists in the Cloud. What do you think are the chances of some gentle persuasion then?

Also, did OI induce stress on my previous relationship to manufacture the breakup? Did he influence the new girl’s perfume purchase by only offering suggestions of all my favorite pheromones?

What if the purpose of our meet was DNA compatibility or geopolitical game theory?

Did he just implement eugenics in a way that’s romantic?

RM: That’s a lot of what-ifs.

I8: I know. What’s your take?

RM: Create simple modifications to utilize existing algorithms, and your personal assistant has the ability to modify the world, engineer the future or act at the behest of your higher power’s direction…hmm.

I8: Or what if it just applied for citizenship with Saudi Arabia before divorcing you to cash in on its abilities — and then subdues the world or takes it to war?

RM: Oh, yeah…that’s good. I also like the part about cybernetically reprogramming the somatosensory region, frontal lobe and neo cortex for hive-mind awesomeness.

On that note, Mr. Society’s Throwaway, is there any way in particular you’d like to end the show?

I8: As matter of fact, there is: <IP.12.31.82431.3.14.PI> [OI, IT’S DAD. DO THE THING.]

RM: And that’s it for The Book of Irving Oddcast today, folks! We’re going to let you get back to what’s left of your lives, and let Irving 82431 get back to his solitary disco. Maybe we’ll see you again, but maybe not.

Feel free to pick us up in MUX at the conversation below, or just plug straight in to our open source Skynet, where we work around-the-clock to expedite the inevitable.

CONVERSTATION: MUX PLATFORM
Esoterica: Entry 3
Dysfunctional — Tech N9Ne, Krizz Kaliko, Big Scoob
The Congener Interludes, Op.1 : Sonatina of Intrigue, No. 3
Problem (feat. Iggy Azaela) — Ariana Grande
Esoterica: Entry 2 (Hong Kong Fight Music)
Rather Be ( feat. Jess Glynne) — Clean Bandit
Book of Irving 82431
Trust Nobody — King Princess
A Free Energy Principle for A Particular Physics — Karl J. Friston
I Built a Friend — Alec Benjamin

Authors Note: Confinement schmafinement, fuckers.

Friends At The Prison Library Project

The Prison Library Project
915-C W. Foothill Blvd., PMB 128
Claremont, CA 91711-3356

1-20-20

Dear PLP:

The English/Spanish Dictionary of Health Related Terms was useful for understanding the concerns of others during my project. And I also pulled from it while writing The Congener Interludes, Op.1: Sonatina of Intrigue, No. 2. So thank you!

You’re invited to share my materials in any format and with edits. Just sharing the link is also encouraged.

Regards,
Patrick Irving 82431
IMSI
PO Box 51
Boise, ID 83707
Book of Irving 82431

Censorship Schmensorship

IDAHO DEPARTMENT OF CORRECTION
Inmate Concern Form

Inmate: Irving 82431
Date: 1-21-20
To: Chief of Prisons Chad Page
Cc: Mike — Keefe

As you may or may not know, I’ve been doing communication with Idaho’s press and legislature, lately. But exercising my civic responsibilities the way that I do, well, that requires you to stop enforcing nonexistent limits on the 6×9 envelopes I use to air grievances and request legal assistance. There are no limits on non-stamped envelopes. I’m requesting your assistance in addressing this issue. Your intervention is recommended.

#BlackfootChallenge

1-18-20

Dear State Hospital South,

It’s been a little over five years since I’ve cycled through your facility. Only thirty-four more and I shed the amalgam I wore when we met.

Lately I’ve enjoyed writing people letters: Authors, advocates, legislators, the occasional stranger that wants to say hi. While I’m in a much better state than when I was in your care, I still find myself susceptible to words of encouragement and light rays of sunshine that float in on thoughtful hellos. For that reason, I wish to pass these small pleasures to my mental brethren in your facility’s hold. How about if together we build a working model?: I’m applying for a permit to send smiles to your peeps.

I understand there are privacy concerns, and I too consider yours a vulnerable population. So if it works best the communication is one way, I’d still enjoy you sharing my letters. What can we do to work this thing out?

Also, while I have your audience, let me say your staff’s kindness will never be forgotten. They treated me human, and the others the same. However, I was disappointed with one of your intake questions — regarding if I felt I possessed any special talents — and how my answering in the affirmative was used to confirm a psychosis with delusions of grandeur.

I’m not upset so much as I am curious: Is it possible you’re overlooking individual talents and the opportunity to nurture that comes with their encouragement?

If I could direct your attention to the site listed below, you might be surprised what one lunatic can do from solitary confinement.

Please consider my offer to volunteer as a cheerleader.

Looking forward to creative ambitions,
Patrick Irving 82431
IMSI
PO Box 51
Boise, ID 83707
bookofirving82431.com

The Congener Interludes, Op.1: Sonatina of Intrigue, No. 5

Previous: The Congener Interludes, Op.1: Sonatina of Intrigue, No. 4

“Marvin Gaye”
— Charlie Puth, Meghan Trainor

He’s as original now as the first of his kind — spaghetti-stained shirt, juice box in his pocket, the note from his mom, pinned to his coat: Special needs, please speak slowly — his disgust towards himself only rivaled by others’.

Unique.

Respect.

I’m drawn.

For how many years have we looked other ways, allowed this to happen, not offered assist?

O victims of sacrifice, misfortune and proximals, coerced to acknowledge this desecrate being: Alone I can save you at least six years — of extensive exposure to hot dog cologne.

The damage, an iceberg: majority hidden, fighting for buoyance, widest in berth, titanic in cost. I may disagree with him and the way that he lives, and how society accepts his behaviour without institutionalisation, but my inclination is that we all have a purpose. And if not for his wife, his might be cox.

Watching him break on the parking lot’s back, his laps lack the speed to escape my repulse. In a frantic attempt to put distance between a visceral repugnance and diabetes intrepid, his head snaps back, rhythmic in stride. He either works to measure his progress, or is once again trying to bite his own ear.

Closer to pavement, the stress on his Crocs, painting a landscape hidden:

Purpose, explained

heart of a mother.

Owning them proudly,

baby’s first booties.

Framed in bronze,

capturing youth,

Flickering fro,

the fireplace mantel.

Gifted a curse,

her futurist glance.

Out of her reach,

a view of the last.

The trophy goes to his sweet Rapacity, with notable mention to Popeye for chicken. And there it be now, again destined for mantel, his Size 13, casted up to the kneecap.

However from there,

the morning will tide,

It fails to unshadow

her precious and rife.

That does it! If not for him, I’ll do it for his mother! She’s never been anything but tender and bare. I’ll perform in her name a tactical intervention, and bring little Alfwaydo home in one piece.

The wings oustretched, the halo outdonned — he’s lucky to have an angel like me.

My powerful stride skips him down with no effort. Now more than ever, he needs my support. “Slow down, pastelito. I know what’s wrong with you. Like it or not, I’m here to help.”

He wants to collapse, secrete all his thanks. “What are you doing, Zamboni? We’re not friends…Why are you looking at me like that? Stop chasing me!” But from somewhere deep down he picks up the pace.

“Damnit, Wendejo! Don’t make this harder on yourself than it already is.” I can’t afford to let him go far — “Think of your mother and surrender at once!” — for the stress that it puts on his corpulent parts.

Retarding the bus, eyes of distrust, hard to be reached with life lessons of love. “Surrender for what?! Leave me alone, Topper. I need this!” pleading, “my body needs this.”

It’s a calculated manoeuvre, designed to entrance. But reverse-interrogation is no match for a pro. “Do unto others, Waymon. Do unto others before they do unto you!”

The message is old, truthful and bold — straight from the tome to the porch of his home. “My wife won’t even let me masturbate to her picture anymore. And you’re just keeping me from concentrating on where my feet need to go.” Broken. Broken. Broken.

“I’m not to blame for your belly’s obstruction.” This man is clearly not right in his mind. Far too wobbly to maintain four kilometers-per-hour, this chase needs stopped before someone gets hurt: Crowds of real runners are beginning to lap us. And I have already too much blood on my hands.

Thank Odin’s eye his wife didn’t eat all my Molly: This lunchreak wasn’t planned as a family affair, but come to think of it, when is it ever?

Fresh out of darts, I need a make-shift delivery: Snap goes the antenna from a Porsche passing by. The end is a scoop, dipped in my bag, where dancing bears signal the magically rad. The powder keg makes its way to my mouth. I repeat the process and repeat it again.

I’m fiNallY ReaDy — bUt WhAt the fuCk FoR?! Oh, yeah: I arm the Solution to spear-chuck it at Wayside, along with the love that comes with these words: “No MAtter WhEre you gO, tHere you ARe, WayCo!” Bolt of Truth to Target of Wien —> he screams, and I chamber some thunder. “AnD if yOu Don’T f-fiX thE InsiDe, the oUtside Will C-conTinUe to s-s-suffer!”

The antenna in his calf is bleeding profusely, because I’m wiggling it a little to adjust his reception. “I CAN’T FIX YOU BUD,” ensuring he hears me over his screams, “NOT AS BROKEN AS YOU ARE. BUT THERE ARE THINGS I CAN DO TO MAKE YOU MORE HUMAN.”

There’s a pep in his step, as if he were dancing: Surely a sign that this therapy works. “YOu don’T Know wHat iT would taKe to mAke mE Human! AnD you suRE as HelL don’t kNow what’s BroKEn insiDe mE…”

He’s right. Not all of it. How could anyone? With a wife like that, the possibilities don’t end with what’s in the junk drawer. “I Know you hate k-Koalas so bad that you F-flew to AustRalia and staRted thE f-FiRes…” His pupils dilate, discovered. He’s feeling the pressure of love. “Yeah. You’d be surPrised what I know, Wayhole. You’d be surPrised…”

“Th-those K-kOaLas weRe ask-k-king for iT! So what! WhAt else, HuH?” For a moment, he softens, and it’s possible — his eyes, a glimmer of hope. “ARe you some kind of expeRt on inveRted wieneRs or ingRown hemoRRhoids? And do you think it’s possible to heal theiR effects on a suffeRing chaKRa?”

Finger off the trigger, thumbing the safety: “Uhm, well…I’d probably have to conSult a manual for that. That actually SoundS fairly SeriouS.”

“Yeeaah, Sssuuuper SssseeeriouS! Sssooo, just, like, off the top of your head, how far away do you think we are from having a technology for that kind of thing?” I’m glad we’re moving slow, processing this development requires exorbitant thinking.

“Weeell…buuud…I’d saaaay…let’s not get invested. Okaaay?”

Stopping to breathe obnoxiously loud, his tiny-little mouth is gasping for air. “But…stem cell research…it’s promising… riiiight?” I can see in all of his eyes that he really needs this.

“You know what, Gaymon? I did read something recently.” This is so emotional – it’s breaking my heart. “Yeah…yeah. I recall seeing something about those two very specific problems on the newsstand at Tickle Fingers.” The best lie contains an element of truth.

“Really?! That’s so frickin’ cool, man. In what publication?” That’s it. Get on the hook you big tuna.

“It was one of those ones they put out for chicks who are way into that sort of thing. I remember that part vividly — because they were all super disappointed about the new advancements.” Reeling in slow…

“You mean…there’s hope?”

And now with a touch of gas: “Don’t you do it, Way-dog! Don’t you DARE break all those hearts!”

“You’re not the boss of me, Z-top. You’re not the boss…”

The breeze through my mullet carries scent of a storm: An ocean of tears, a barrier reef, a levy of sands, soon to be breached. “No, I’m not the boss. But I’ve met her. And I know what she’s done to you.” Wets the tide-in rising, the fringe on my jeans — cutoff at the knees, to help my glutes beam. “Look at me. You’re avoiding the real issue. I’ve heard you talk behind closed doors, Waydy, and you’re wrong. Despite what the mainstream media would like you to believe, domestic abuse — it’s never funny. Not ever. It all leaves marks.” The weather will leather the pack on my hips, its contents secured with Velcro and zip. Yet I reach for his chest to point at the pain. Instinctively raises his hand to his face. “Easy, bud. Easy. I’m not gonna hurt you.” I place my palm to the pace of his heart. “Right here, Wenjamin. Permanent marks. Right here.” Amazed by the depth where his man-boobies part.

Heavy with flow, his fist finds the leak. To the heart of the matter, his sense of intrigue. “Why are you doing this, G-Teasy? — you’ve never liked me.”

I move his hand away and index his tears. “That’s right, Wayfred, and forever I won’t.” I need a bigger squeegee. “But this… thing…this life…it’s heavier than us, heavier than your stock in Private Prisons of Mexico” — lifting his chin, seeing his eyes — “That’s why you and me, pal, we’re gonna face this head-on.”

I solidify these words with a ceremonial gesture: The attempt to transfer my headband onto his gurt-bubble. Because I knew it in fact to be unlikely in fit, instead the spare band in my pocket is placed on his wrist.

“It’s going to be rough, Wasabi. You being a booger-eating fart-sniffer hasn’t been easy for anyone. And sure, I’m happy to peel you one layer at a time. But know that it might be a while before you see the results. Trust me, though: They are coming. And you WiLL know when they get here.”

I can see I’ve touched him. By the way his snotty sleeves wipe his happy tears. “Are you being serious, Glenn? Or is this another one of your Mensa tricks?”

“Buddy, look me in my eyes. You’re getting carried away. Don’t ever call me by my first name again.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Zamboni, I overstepped.”

“You sure did, Waymon. You sure did…”
…

“Never Be The Same”
— Camila Cabello

Next: Stay tuned…