This is a continuation of this story: OSP PHYSICIAN DOCTOR JAMES KLINE IS A FUCKWEASEL: HOW A QUACK ILLEGALLY DISAPPEARED ME TO THE SUPERMAX DUNGEON TO BREAK ME FOR THE REPRESSIVE GESTAPO HIGH COMMAND

The Long-Delayed Conclusion: Medical “Observation” in the Dark

Welcome to hell.

Of the four “medical observation” cells, I was placed in the one where the other prisoners could not see me. The other three, prisoners can strain their necks to look at one another. The cell I was in, the entrance was set back behind a sink and counter area, isolating me completely even from other prisoners.

The cell door is plexiglass. Inside, the full array of luxuries that compliment the standard torture suite: a fibergass box where prior occupants were strapped down in five-point restraints… a ragged, bare mattress (perhaps with stuffing, perhaps not)… A steel sink-and-toilet combo (perhaps with remnants of prior occupants’ DNA smeared on it, perhaps not)… A half of a roll of toilet paper… A light blasting from the ceiling, all hours of the day and night… A four-inch window that looks out onto an obstruction, allowing no sunlight… A steel shower compartment the size of a phone booth carved into one wall… A camera, high up on the back wall, behind a reflective bubble that looks like a giant insect eye staring at you…

That’s it. The environment in which you will live until further notice.

Do NOT tip the bell-hop. Continue reading →