Hey Bianca,

Hope all is going well for you. I imagine your finger is well beyond the mend by now, or at least past the itching phase. If it isn't, I've heard you shouldn't tongue it so much if you want it to heal. (there's my morstle worth of fat-free advice to figuratively chew on)

So you wrote the quilt magazine!!! Pretty cool. Gotta say. Actually, I was overly surprised to see the Chester's letter and his art project mixed in with yours. It was like finding some sort of ancient artifact. I removed the whole thing like it contained glitter I didn't want to spill out.

(Chester with Lilac bushels, barn quilt and gold glitter stylized badge and name plaque)

Don't be too mad, but, I totally read his letter first. To his credit, he had various colors of construction paper to help him and he did such a great job. As to that Purple Lilac essential oil extract mixed in with the paper glue… Brilliant. I need a signature like that. Lavender maybe? Frankincense?

Don't get me wrong, your job was good too... ish. And ‘Good-ish’ isn't bad, it’s still good... ish.

I'm totally playing with you- ish.

I have this feeling he has to be one of those really weird guys you can’t really get to know, because he might be kind of socially awkward in a way, but the kind of social awkward you love all the same, because it's what makes him endearing. He's just not one of those guys that 

would go out to have a drink with the group, 'cause he's uncomfortable around crowds.

That said, the first place my mind goes is that he lives in a basement like Buffalo Bill in ‘Silence of the Lambs.’ But he probably doesn't make human skin suits; well, to be fair, Bill only got around to patching together part of one, now didn't he? So, I suppose using 'suit' in the plural form gives him a little too much credit in what I'm sure we can agree was a failed endeavor.

(Image of our Climactic Hero taking back what is his)

Anyway, I don't know if 'I' would want to meet him; Chester, not Buffalo Bill that is, on account of now knowing this deeply personal part of him, but you should totally continue to write him. Connecticut is pretty close to Virginia maybe he might visit one day... Err I mean New Hampshire… Der. Who knows maybe that could happen. Which would be especially cool on account of the fact you made it sound like your family here in Oregon isn't very supportive of your being in prison; granted, I'm sure they don't want to support your 'Crime' and the fact you're in prison, per se, but they could at least write you, send you cash... or try to set you up with artistic, eccentric male suiters. That's my opinion anyway

Hmm, I wonder, do you think the prison would let Chester make you a blanket/quilt for your cell? I imagine it 

gets cold there in the winter. Who knows maybe they wouldn’t let you use it on your bunk, but what if it was just one to like… hang on the wall? I suppose that wouldn't be the most advisable from a security standpoint, since you could use it to like- conceal that tunnel you are planning on digging through the prison walls with that ice pick you smuggled in with the laundry.

(Academy Award winning looks of discovery.)

Oh, geez, that was supposed to be a secret, huh? I sometimes forget your mail gets read before you receive it. Well, if the guards give you a new cell after reading this it would appear then that you have me to thank for being re-placed… You're welcome... I hope. If you happened to also somehow had an ice pick that was seized because of this letter, well... Whoopsie Daisies!
Hey! Wouldn't it be cool of you and Chester like- got married and had like- three adopted kids? Do you think he's black? White people pop into my mind when I think of 'quilters' and men named Chester. Except when it comes to the chicken joint: Chester's Chicken. I think of black folks then, but only because when I was stationed in Fort Leonard-Wood, Missouri it was a black Marine in my detachment that told me Chester's chicken wasn't as good as Popeye's. But maybe 'folks' is the wrong word to use, I basically just remember him talking about it. Before that I didn't even know Chester's or Popeye's were fried chicken establishments. 

Thinking on it, I like the idea of a world where my mental picture of a spinach eating, cartoon sailor and Gene Hackman from the French Connection isn't associated with the name 'Popeye.'
Spicy, deep fried, chicken tenders are an image so much more succulent; Middle age Gene Hackman not withstanding, And I'm a card carrying Heterosexual.

Anyway, I think the mental picture association; while an interesting experiment, isn't the most bonafide way to test if someone is racist. I write that because it seems like its one of the more unofficial / Illogical methods used to do so in our ‘label happy’ society.

e.g. Close your eyes...
You are having your taxes prepared, back in May you donated a sofa so large the Goodwill employees had to call over management in order to help locate the forklift operator that wasn't drunk so they could collaborate with the tractor trailer driver and figure the most pragmatic means of unloading the sofa from your vehicle so as to load it onto theirs without damage- Anyway, you are having a hard time getting your line itemizations to exceed your standard deduction and personal exemption, but as it would turn out, since you contributed the full allowable about; 5500$, to your Traditional IRA, going with your standard deduction instead of your itemized list is going to get you back more money from your federal return, although its going to cost you more 

On your state return somehow, so it's not even considered a return anymore, if we are being technical within this example; even though in the real world itemizing wouldn't effect your ability to take the benefit of the federal retirement credit.

Okay, open your eyes… What race was the person preparing your taxes? If you're white and they weren't a race different than your own, you're racist. If they aren't a gender different than your own, and you're male, you're sexist. If you imagined your own real-world

CPA, well, you're a filthy, cheating, objective empiricist; and the world certainly doesn't need or want any of those. Since it only runs on raw, unkempt, emotions and feelings.

Anyway… Again , based on such examples and thought experiments. Its pretty easy for me to imagine I'm probably considered a mental racist. (Although I think 'misanthrope' is more aptly put) At least that's what it feels like to me as a Heterosexual, Middle aged; younger than Gene 'Middle Aged,' Male, Caucasian. And as such my mind's eyes are just keyed up to produce stereotypes. But if I'm being fair to myself, I think for the most part, I think in 'white' terms and generalities by nature because I'm around it more; product of my environment so to speak. (I also blame Hollywood, and the Academy.) Actually, I should really just start watching movies and television that only have minority heavy casts and themes. (I would get SO much more work done. [Cause there's only a couple a year.]

To give my own answers to the previous mentioned test, I'm a filthy empiricist, my Tax preparer is a Vietnamese woman named Kim. But then my Financial advisor Chuck is Caucasian male, so... Two steps forward one step back for not being a racist, I guess.

Thinking on the same wave length I really feel sorry for folks in minorities if they naturally think and ‘mentally see’ in white terms and generalities thanks to the influx of Caucasians and their influence on the American paradigm; specifically with entertainment. Wouldn't it be just so ‘Vanilla’ to see white faces in your mind more than say... your own reflection? That's gotta be a thing. Maybe that's why ISIS is so bent on Jihad... Too much vanilla in their minds; can't even escape it in the sands of their own country, and it only continues to grow and keeps coming back like a weed where nothing else will grow... Dirty vanilla spreading its filthy democracy pollen all over prayer rugs and brain folds.

In any event. I don't think I'm beyond being saved, if I'm really honest with myself, for instance, when I think of 'Basketball' I don't think of color or even people, for that matter. I think of the image of the ball, the basket and the court. However, Michael Jordan is what comes to my mind when I think Basketball 'player;' the mental image of the number '23,' specifically, Never '45'. However! Bo Jackson comes to my mind when Archery is mentioned! #30for30! Well, for the sake of complete honesty I only see Bo if

imagery of the 'Bow'… and arrow doesn't pop up first. But, I'm guessing when Bo Jackson beats Robin Hood and Gena Davis to the surface, you know boundaries are being broken and walls are coming down. I wonder how mentally racist Google is?
First query for 'Archery' Search:
Ahh… Well, disregarding ‘Location Specific’ results which is a bias, the Wikipedia article comes up. So it would seem Google's algorithm is biased towards pseudo-information instead of Bo Jackson when it comes to Archery. (I'm let down to a certain extent; Bo might care too; that is if he wasn't so damn good at it for it to matter to him.)

I wonder what person in history was the best example of an individual who was race blind. I know everyone's mind probably goes straight to Jesus. But that's so ridiculous; and I realize I'm generalizing writing 'Everyone,' I'm no historian, but I’m hard pressed to think Jesus, if he ever even walked, ever actually saw an individual of such a stark difference he would've noticed. I want to say I heard back then everything was about what you believed and what class system and hierarchy you fell into. I can’t imagine Jesus ever met an Anglo. Were Russians even around back then? Geographically speaking, they were probably the closest Caucasians to Christ back then. I'm also hard pressed to imagine Romans were 

fair in complexion either. Seems to me Marble and plaster just isn't the best medium used to convey a difference in hue. You know what? I going to blame the use of marble for racial bias from here on out. Seems fanciful, but what doesn't in the battle of the race wars? Maybe I need to invest in an actual Anthropology book or two, Post haste. Kurt Vonnegut's 'Cat's Cradle' and 'Galapagos' isn't making for the most informed of opinions.

Anyway, there is some of why I find it a little ridiculous ‘some’ Christians mentally see the Wonder Counselor as a white, bearded son of a guy with a white beard. Hardly realistic!

I do like how Christ has various nick names though: (Jesus Nickname List)

* Adequate Warning: a few of those might not be 'Officially Registered.' utilize sparingly or at your own risk in the meal line and showers.

All ignorant paradigm analyzing aside, I imagine Chester is Cauc'. Barn quilts, essential oils, New Hampshire and potpourri are more characteristic of old women than any minority male friends and acquaintances I have, to include my Navajo brothers; they're known 

for making some pretty awesome blankets. But then again who knows what happens behind closed doors. It's a whole new age of men touching base with hobbies typically ascribed to women's interests-- Actually... You know what? I believe my friend Shady Moses had a jar of potpourri in his room. He didn’t make the stuff, but it’s close. His middle name was Magic. True story. His middle name... Hell- his full name is the coolest full name ever. He could dance like Chris Brown, sleep like Rip Van Winkle and was the spitting image of Eddie Murphy without the leather suit.

It's pretty cool Chester saved your letter from the trash. I like to think I did too, but it never actually went into the can. I just grabbed it from a co-worker and told them I'd write back. This guy... He basically saved 'you,' if you think about it. Sure I'm responsible for getting you to write him, so you can name your first adopted baby boy after me, but...yeah... So... happy for you!

(Picture of a most excellent Baby Warming gift... err ‘Shower.’)

But what did the letter you sent say? You should have sent it to me also to read and then I could have forwarded it for you, saved you stamps and envelopes. You could have kept me in on the loop, you know?

So, back to my usual questions and meanderings. I must know more abouts ze lifes behind ze bars, az et vere. Vunderbar yah?!


Brian's Third Letter to Bianca (1)
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Hey Bianca,

Hope all is going well for you. I imagine your finger is well beyond the mend by now, or at least past the itching phase. If it isn't, I've heard you shouldn't tongue it so much if you want it to heal. (there's my morstle worth of fat-free advice to figuratively chew on)

So you wrote the quilt magazine!!! Pretty cool. Gotta say. Actually, I was overly surprised to see the Chester's letter and his art project mixed in with yours. It was like finding some sort of ancient artifact. I removed the whole thing like it contained glitter I didn't want to spill out.

(Chester with Lilac bushels, barn quilt and gold glitter stylized badge and name p...

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