“Is that a razor in your pocket or are you just happy to see me”

— D. Clark MacPherson

I’ll never forget my sentencing for essentially exposing the criminality in the Hamptons, especially in the Town of Southampton where corruption was openly conducted and where the onslaught against immigrants was conducted long before Trump got into office. The Town Supervisor pandered to the Republicans, the Mob, the retirees populating the area and, of course, D.A. Spota himself — who was eventually imprisoned. Supervisor Heaney translated that fealty into lifelong jobs and multiple pensions while picking on the people who cleaned toilets and cut the lawns of the ‘rich and famous. At sentencing for my crimes of accepting money from the criminal banks and providing Affordable Housing, the judge, one F.X. Doyle, sang the praises of the medical treatment in the New York State prison system. He said, that I could expect Perfectly Adequate medical care durng my stay.

I relate the True Crime vignette below to show what he knew.

_______________________________________________________________________________

“Y’know that Spanish guy I was talking to?”

We were leaving the Law Library, heading back to the dorm. I had just finished telling Cuba that I thought Wood had the personality of a dead hamster and looked like a cadaver.

“The guy you were just talking to?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t that ‘Chauty?'” I remembered when the guy first had introduced himself. H’d thought he called himself “G” and it turned out that it was not, so he just told me his real nickname. “Chauty,” he said. Eventually, I figured out that was ‘Shorty.’

“Guy’s got a major fucking lawsuit against the medical people.” Cuba smoked  his cigarette and smiled. “I figure he’s gonna’ collect big time.”

“What’s it about?”

“He hadda hernia.”

“And…?”

“And, they operated on him and fucked it up.” 

“What happened?”

“Well, dey gottim up at Albany Medical an’ dey do the operation an’ he leaves and soon as he’s back, he starts gettin’ pain and swelling.”

“Yeah?”

“So, finally, dey reelize somethin’s wrong when his testicle starts to swell up an’ he’s in a lotta pain.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, dey sennim back and open’im up and dey figure out dat dey crossed some wires.”

“What? What do you mean they crossed some wires?”

“Well, dey patched ‘im up after they connected the nerve in his left testicle with the right testicle. So, now he’s got two nerves connected to the right testicle and no nerve connected to the left testicle.”

“Holy shit. So, what happened?”

“Now, they got a problem and dis guy’s bein’ shuffled back an’ forth on onea dose diesel fumin’ buses from prison to hospital, off, an ‘en back on an’ up tada hospital again. Meantime his right testicle is the size of a grapefruit anna guy’s in agony. His right testicle’s got an extra nerve connected ta’it and it’s very fucked up.”

“Well, what happened?” 

“They finally gottim back tada hospital and figure out whad dey did an’ now operated on ‘im ta fix it.”

“So, was he okay?”

“Nah, they fucked up that operation too.”

“Jesus Christ,” I said, thinking of the pain involved. 

“Yeah, they open ^‘im up and uncross th’nerve and pudit back the way it was supposed ta be the first time. Only now, the hernia’s returnin’ from all of the surgery.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Yeah, so dey sen’im back with the testicle like a grapefruit an’ the hernia’s comin’ back.”

“Is this for real?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s a’ready had 3 operation an’its still not fixed and healed. Hadda get some bigwig black docta’ involved ta straighten it out.”

“Isn’t this guy, like, a major drug dealer, or something?” 

“Yeah, he’s a major guy. He’s Puerto Rican.”

“I thought the major guys were Mexican?”

“The Columbians grow it and, basically, wholesale it, the Mexicans distribute it and a lot of the Puerto Ricans retail it. A lotta the Mexican stuff comes in on boats from Puerto Rico. It’s an island and it’s parta the U.S. so dat makes it easier. Most of the ocean front land and estates in Puerto Rico are owned by Mexicans now.”

“So, the most dangerous guys are the Mexicans?”

“Yeah, dey th’guys with the heavy people. Th’enforcers.” 

“The guys with the balls?”

He smiled. “Somethin’ like dat.”

Copyright 2025 Confessions from the Gulag