BRED FUR CRIME: GOMEZ

Gomez is a 19 year old scared kid from California. He is bred for crime, judging by his culture and philosophy. His Mom has no husband, and he was thus allowed to run wild and escape school for the largest part. He has the usual Hispanic exaggerated concept of self-worth. His extreme self-esteem goes beyond the 'macho' cultural imperative. His teachers tried to convince him to stay in school by massaging his ego: they told him he was very smart and that it would be a terrible waste if he didn't use his 'gifts'.   This went straight to his head. He concluded that he was so superior that he didn't need any school; that he could work everything out from first principles. Proof of this fact is, ostensibly, provided by the extreme ease with which he could manipulate his mother and fellow Latino peers.

Gomez is a painfully shy, very small boy suffering from retarded social development. He's never had any real contact with the opposite sex beyond his mother, evidenced by his calling them, when referring to them, 'bitches'. He is so small and timid that he can't weigh mom than 110 pounds. He is so small and soft and long-haired, we can, at first, mistake him for a girl. His shyness made it take a long time before he got comfortable enough with me to begin boasting. Also, his fear is so great that he had to take a long time spinning his fight stories. Being such a runt, he relies upon kissing up to gang members, real or imagined, to get his 'bang' down sufficiently to feel protected enough and safe. He likes to put out that other people are racist; he's found this is a good way to make Caucasians self-conscious, overly generous and pliable to his suggestions. Like many whores I've know, Gomez is adept at obtaining benefits from others without specifically asking for them. This way he can get things or help without the onus of reciprocation, since the giving was, ostensibly, our idea. Also, by playing on our natural urge to help the needy, he adds to his feeling of superiority to the people he thus manipulates. There is no chance that such a 'Player' will feel gratitude, much less say 'thanks'. Their universal constant is to think of such politeness as being weakness.

When Gomez finally began boasting, his life story came to this: Thanks to having no father, Gomez learned quickly how to take advantage of his mother's love: she was relatively prosperous, until her son began stealing her money and household goods for his 'gang'. They'd sell her food, furnishings, even lawn equipment for alcohol and weed so they could stay drunk and high all day long.

Thanks to California's lax truancy enforcement, these layabouts had an easy time hiding out in their moms' kitchens, attics, garages or back yards. Eventually an older black found their juvenile gang and took over. "Psycho" taught them how to steal, find places to burglarize, steal cars and pawn items they carried off from the homes of peers stupid enough to let them inside. Psycho's best trick was to pretend he had a large wad of cash and ask around for anyone who had a large cache of dope to sell. At least once he was able to find a greedy person who both believe he had money and actually did have dope to sell. Additionally, he was stupid enough to let Psycho bring his gang of children along. Gomez was so impressed with this clever trick of obtaining something for nothing that he decided to make it his career and vocation.

After many days of petty crime and drunkenness, psycho called on Gomez and another twerp to help him obtain payment from a debtor. Psycho pushed into the guy's home on a pretext, but was clumsy at it, pulling his gun out. (The only gun he could get was a rifle, and it was suspicious to wear a winter coat in summer to conceal it.) The intended victim shoved him out, locked the door and called the cops. Psycho panicked and ran after giving the rifle back to Gomez's twerp-buddy to hide. They pedaled their bikes to the twerp's mom's home where the twerp had Gomez hide it in their 'clubhouse' in the attic above the garage.

Twerp's mom came out and caught them. Twerp insisted they'd done nothing, and Gomez pulled his standard trick: hanging his head and staring quietly at his feet as twerp's mom demanded to know what he was doing climbing out of their attic. Gomez couldn't take the woman's interrogation for very long. He decided to run when it became apparent that she would not stop demanding information. Also, she moved to call Gomez' mother.

Gomez got caught by the cops on his way home. Like an idiot, he pedaled his bike past a neighbor who identified him. He got out of everything by snitching on each of his gang members for the cops. He sent psycho to prison for life and took his gang-name as his own. His mother had been so drained by the lawyers, judges and social workers that she had to move to Oklahoma and stay with her mom. Her little Demonspawn was put in a special school for recalcitrance. This didn't work either. He managed to find a way to get expelled and was rewarded in this with plenty of time to hide out and get drink.

One day Gomez was so drunk he could hardly walk while stumbling around outside trying to make it to another hangout. He was eaten up with hatred of the rich white people he saw zooming past him in their cars. He saw an old, fat white 'bitch' by herself acting as a clerk at a gas station. It was dark, no one was around, and his feet hurt; he was tired (drunk). His dim mind told him to steal her car.

He went in and demanded her car keys. She laughed and told him to go suck an egg. He attacked. She slapped him off as she called the cops. Gomez managed to steal only the keyring she'd left in the cash register. He was too stupefied to get the drawer open. Plus he was in a bit of a hurry, of course. None of the keys was to any car. He stumbled off into the darkness and into the arms of a cop. She knelt on his head, hogtied him and threw him in her car.

Mom's money again came to the rescue. She bought her little darling a 4 month sentence at the Okie 'Boot' 'Kamp'. Gomez was too weak, small and undisciplined to last even 10 days! He was such a master manipulator that for a short time he had the kops there agree to make it easier on him than the others because he is such a shrimp. He kept pushing for more and more special treatment until they finally threw him out in disgust. He thus turned 4 months into a 3 year sentence.

They put him in their sissy prison at Hominy. He lasted less than a month. Gomez is very effeminate, and of course joined the Mexican gang as soon as he could find it. They refused to come in from the big 'yard' cage one day for no clearly described reason. This idiocy got them all sent to this place; Okie's worst slow death prison: Big Crack. It is hard to have a gang protect you when you're forced into a 2-man care. Gomez was run out of at least 3 cages before a soft headed guard took pity on him and put him in mine. She thought he would he safe with an old man with no history of exploiting people.

Gomez was much relieved and tried hard not to show it. He had secretly filled out many 'separation orders' that notified the guards as to which inmates he shouldn't be made to live with. Gomez also pretended to have just learned how to play chess, (this is another standard excuse for taking so long to get good at a hard game.) He liked to play, but he knew no openings except the ones he'd copied from better players. He came into my cage an 'A' level player and left a 'C' level player in a very short time; about two months. (The rankings go A,B,C,D,E, expert, master, grandmaster and international grandmaster. I'm only a master after having quit studying in my twenties.) Without even knowing the rankings, he thought he was a master merely on the basis of his asking my ranking. To show you the colossal impudence of Gomez, he seemed to believe this despite his inability to win more than one out of six games, and many of them due to my boredom.

To learn his philosophy is to be appalled. His highest goal is to obtain free or taxpayer subsidized housing. Tie wants a fine lowrider car that can hop up on its shocks, but he doesn't want to work. His only job was forced upon him as a condition of release. This was at a pizza joint. It lasted only 3 paychecks due to his extreme laziness and jealousy at others making more than him for what he perceived as less work. He plotted to rob the place as he worked there. His plan makes the Keystone Cops look competent. Starting out with nothing but a drunken haze and his thumb up his ass, Gomez enlisted the help of twerp, who could steel a couple of his mother's scarves for masks. They had to go to another twerp's home so he could steal, temporarily, his older brother's gun. Twerp II wouldn't steal the gun without being included in the robbery. Gomez and twerp had wanted to avoid letting twerp II know the purpose of their wanting his gun, fearing that he'd take over their operation, meaning that he'd keep most of the money for himself and drink up most of what they (he) bought (them) with their share. Like some kind of magical mind reader, twerp II instantly guessed that they wanted the gun for a robbery.

He quickly included himself and took over their operation despite their protests.

Step 2 involved stealing a car. This turned arduous, as they had to wait for a mom to get off work so she could drive them to the Mall, since none of them had bus fare to do so. On the way there the mom caught her son with a stout screwdriver and made him leave it behind. They begged her for money for snacks. This they spent on a flimsy screwdriver. They searched the massive parking lot for cars with keys hanging in tile ignition. Nobody was stupid enough for this today. Also, they got harassed by a gang of Caucasian twerps looking for tape players, radios, CDs, radar detectors, etc, to steal. The Mall parking lot cops harassed them too. They'd found a car sufficiently secluded with the doors unlocked. Twerp II, the criminal genius, went to work on the steering column with the cheap screw driver while Gomez and twerp stood watch. While they were ducked down rolling a joint, the mall cops swooped, capturing all in various criminal acts.            The dope blew away and the scratches on the steering column were so slight that the owner didn't want to get involved. The Mall Kops held them for their mothers.

The next day was a repeat of the first, except at a different Mall. They did manage to find a car with the keys in it. Twerp II drove to the pizza place, robbed it himself and drove off. Since Gomez and Twerp had done nothing beyond supply the idea and a couple of scarves, they got nothing beyond a couple of beers and a shot of cheap gin.

It never became clear whether or not they'd gotten caught at this; judging from his body language during the telling, it appears that Gomez himself escaped punishment, but he could have again snitched his way out when the cops visited past employees and accused them of the crime, as is their standard practice.

What strikes me about Gomez and his hispanic pals is their extreme greed when it comes to alcohol and drugs. The one who buys, steals or swindles the alcohol passes it out sparingly to favorites and hoards most for himself. The largest hispanic will guzzle it at a frightening speed, sometimes not even closing the refrigerator door before snatching up another can or two. In fact, such flagrant greed and thievery occurs that often none is even put in to cool, but is instead either drunk on the spot, on the way home, or simply concealed in bedrooms or other hiding places. Then they go to raid the common supply again. This same greed and thievery goes on in the case of drugs, too. They claim to have two types of weed in California: the good stuff, which they call 'chronic' because of the way it makes you cough. It seems to me that they get light headed from holding their breath as their bodies try to hack their guts up. This war between trying to keep their mouths shut while their lungs try to explode leads to extremely high blood pressure pounding on their brains. Smoke and mucus shoot out their noses with sprays of snot spewing down their chins. Their eyes water and turn red. They stagger backward and wipe the slime off their faces with their sleeves, or simply flick or blow or spit it onto the ground and quickly jam the slobbery end of the joint in their mouths to noisily suck up another hit. This blatantly screws everyone else out of their turns. The others snatch at the joint. The biggest or the fastest one gets it and repeats exactly this process of excessive greed, and the smallest guy, last in line, is lucky if he gets even One hit, much less a buzz.

They call the other type of weed 'spas', probably because it is such trash that you have to be a spas to buy it. They pay outrageous sums for both kinds ($5/joint of the green 'chronic'; $2/toothpick joint of the homegrown 'spaz'). Gomez has not yet gained enough experience to realize that most people wishing to sell him dope will make up any kind of nonsense to facilitate the transfer of his (mama's) money to their pockets. Thus he believes the "white superweed myth (Weed 'grown' in darkness is much more powerful) even to the extent that he will swear to having had some and that it was the best possible. He claims to be 'gifted' and 'talented', yet somehow missed the scientific fact that all plants require light to grow. He also believes he can type 60 wpm using only two fingers, despite being handed mathematical proof that this requires his two fingers to hit five correct keys each second. He believes an Indian created a still in this prison out of rubber tubing and thus distills fermented fruit garbage into 'white lightening'. He believes that fresh bread is required to make prison 'beer', and denies that 20 minutes baking in a 375 oven doesn't kill the yeast. He is more full of nonsensical folk lore than most teenage children I've met.

Surprisingly, though, he is proficient at math up to elementary algebra, having solved several problems most others could not solve. Even so, I showed him statistical proof that even the most successful bullshit artist criminal in prison is only making about 3¢/hr in a cost-benefit analysis using their own inflated claims of 'profit' coupled with their sentences. He performed his own calculation that was illustrative of his ethnic psyche. He figures that he (and everyone else) sleeps 10 hrs/day, and that criminality is the one and only possible vocation that would give him the life of leisure he craves.

He did mention one other possibility: that of making a middleman's living off recording a friend's rap songs and selling them to a producer. Parasites such as these should be locked in a room and given the most powerful dopes and alcohols until they solve the problem that is them.

An interesting thing he mentioned was being able to contact various juvenile 'gangs' on the net and in chatrooms. Apparently they set up sites, post each other's pictures, call each other 'rats' and 'snitches', pretend to be females as they make the equivalent of crank calls school children of previous generations used to do.

Despite Game,' gifts and talents, he came to my cage with one usual idea most prisoners seem to have: that of rinsing his clothes of soap residue by wanting to flush them down the shitter pipe! I had a long talk with the little twerp, reminding him of all the sickness that comes from sewers. He responded with how sparkling clean the crapper has to be before he flushes his clothes down the shitter. Seeing that there was no reaching this sniveling little punk, I told him not to flush his clothes down the shitter pipe. He waited two weeks, then I caught him hiding behind the toilet sheet saturating his clothes with feces bacteria by flushing them down the crapper. It is no wonder to me why their average lifespan is so very short: they hate Caucasians and thus our technology and science so badly that they would rather die early than wound their (excessive) pride.

The politicians, their news-whores, their public relations firms, the church and other people who have not had to live and work near or among minorities are all programed to believe and sell the lie that prejudice is what Caucasians do to minorities and that we should simply love them and everything will be all right. This is nonsense. It is like the prariedog should love the weasel. Prejudice is part of minority culture, as is their hatred of Caucasians and their jealousy. They are born and bred to it. I'll show the blind how to spot it: when you jog past a Mexican, even while smiling, he will most often look mean at you and spit. This is how they make certain you know of his hatred and jealousy of you. You have done nothing to him but smile and wave; he spits and looks mean at you.

One of the first things Gomez did when he was saved from a beating by his own kind for being a rat and was moved to my cage is constantly grope and jerk and rub at his crotch. This is another method of their disrespect, hatred and jealousy of you. Gomez knew nothing of me but that I looked Caucasian and spoke English. That was enough knowledge for him to start his crotch-groping reflex. This is their stealthy, cowardly way of saying, "I hate you and all white people, for no other reason than that it was taught me, ingrained into me, by my forebears." Now, if I was a miserable young, ignorant fool with dogshit for brains like him, I'd have bashed him one time on his worthless head and I'd have from then on gained his perpetual feigned respect and actually done something to earn his hatred. Since I'm a sarcastic bastard, I did consider ridiculing him by jumping up and scaring him out of his tiny wits by demanding, "Are you eat up with crabs, you little twerp? If you got the syph, you got to go, NOW! Get over by that door and stay there until the cops come to fumigate your nasty ass!" And on and on...

But, unlike mindless, hatred-filled minorities, I know that meeting shittiness with shittiness makes their prejudice and hatred increase, and for a reason. This is what minorities can't figure out: When Gomez first walked timidly into my cage and began shitting on me in his cowardly, crotch-groping way, he couldn't see 10 minutes into the future when he'd need a cup from me so he could have some of that saccarine-dye orange juice he loves so much for supper. (His fellow Mexican compatriot wouldn't let him escape his cage with much of his stuff. He had pretty much nothing when he came here, and he was permitted to leave with even less-only clothes, such as 2 pair of shorts he wears, gang-style, one to cover his hairless, feminine-looking ass, and the other drooping down below his knees. Wearing 2 sets of oversize, droopy clothes makes them think they look bigger and more dangerous; a significant worry for an ethnic group known for its lack of height)

I said nothing about his crotch groping, and I gave him a cup without making him ask for it or do without (he would have done without before asking, or would have tried to finagle the gift without asking by obliquely making it know he didn't have a cup and hoping I'd simply be generous enough to offer one. They know Caucasians are generous with their plenty when given the chance.)

What we call politeness, generosity and just plain right, minorities call 'weakness'. Church people will imagine that these qualities in us transform the minorities' thinking. Rarely it does, but mostly it doesn't. (Bear in mind that I speak of the dregs of minorities and Caucasians found in prison.) Soon as there is an opportunity for them to steal from you, or extort from you, or take any type of advantage, most will, immediately, without any thought for the future. Of 30 years of studying minorities, I have found that they have progressed to the point where they no longer sell out for a cigarette, cup of coffee or stamp. Now they have learned to feign civilized behavior for longer periods so as to sell out for larger amounts, such as a porn magazine, a bag of coffee or a whole bag of cigarettes. They think of Caucasians as supermarkets they can steal from by merely promising eventual repayment. They don't seem to be able to connect our riches with our employment-probably because they are too busy burglarizing our homes while we are at work. If they do make the connection between work and riches, it is only to think of what fools we are to work 8 hrs/day while we could be keeping drunk and fed by being parasites like them. Gomez' thinking that everyone needs at least 10 hours sleep every night likely comes from his steady diet of alcoholic stupor, when he can get it.

Gomez' first choice of vocation was to be a 'pimp' as it was described to him by his black friends. Gomez tried hard to learn how to find young females who would accept abuse plus give him their profits from prostituting themselves, but he dust couldn't manage to move theory into practice. He says this is the ideal 'work' for him, being a parasite living off young, beautiful girls, but he is still mystified as to how his black pals pull off this coup. Thus he has committed himself to more study of this phenomenon while he pursues vocations that he 'knows' provide the combination of high profit and low work he desires, such as theft, drug sales and robbery.

He is, truly, bred for crime, both socially and culturally.