B71) The Russian Speed skater at the Olympics 1976

The first Olympic Games I remember watching with any real interest was the 1976 Olympic Games in Montreal Canada. Dorothy Hamel was one of the stars from that Olympics. I had a wicked crush on her. Nadia Comaneci shocked the world with her amazing performances as a gymnast in the 1976 Olympic games. She was the first female gymnast to be awarded a perfect score of 10 in an Olympic gymnastic event. 

I was sixteen and recently became a new driver. A big deal for a sixteen year old. We lived on Morgan Lane in Hoffman Estates, IL. We had been there for two years at that point. It was a house. A big four bedroom ranch style house. Big back yard. It looked like middle town America. We actually had a house. A home. It's the first time I remember us ever owning a house. It was a taste of normalcy. A horrific tease.

The new house was brought to us partially by our new step dad. It began to feel like we might just end up with a greatly overdue dose of normalcy and stability. Freshman year I got almost straight A's. One lonely B on my report card.  Normalcy was all I needed in order for my academic endeavours to blossom.

I began to relax my posture.  Living in this new house began to feel good. I begin to believe. I thought we were on a good path. I was wrong. The taste of normalcy was nothing more than a tease. It had no permanence. The Permanency and normalcy was an illusion and temporary. What hurt the worst was getting fooled again. Motherfuckers. They fooled me again. At sixteen I thought I was beyond being fooled again. I was wrong.

The only permanence we were ever going to have was a lack of it. We permanently lacked permanence.

The Olympics were much easier to watch back in 1976. It was a simpler time. I've grown to understand how people from other generations can say when looking back "it was a simpler time"  The seventies were a much simpler time in comparison to the last decade.

When watching the Olympics back in 1976 there were not as many commercials. There was an abundance of information about the event or events being covered for the moment. Excellent interviews with current or former athletes. 

It's difficult to watch the Olympics now. Every minute seems to be canned with commercials. Obnoxious and disgusting commercials. The best option you have in watching the Olympics today is recording it and fast forwarding through the vile adult diaper commercials, the annoying erection commercials, insurance commercials, food commercials, food never consumed by world class athlete commercials. Nauseating commercials of one type or another.

The commercialization of the Olympics is a tragedy of Olympic proportion. No one cares. This is the new normal. The over commercialization of event possible is the goal of big business. Big business owns the world and they run in a way that fattens their coffers a little more every day. I can't stand the commercials.

Now I have a craving for McDonald's :-(

What I remember most about the 1976 Olympic games is this. I watched a speed skating race. Those athletes are amazing. The size of the quads on those skaters seems super human. Not normally an event I would watch but there I was. I was sitting in the family room with some of my sisters. I think my mom and step dad were in the room. All our eyes were transfixed onto the TV. It was kind of a family time. The speed skating race was won by a Russian gentleman. As usual they interviewed the Gold medal winner.
He was a Gold medal winner in the Olympics. It's a big deal. A very big deal. One of the biggest honors an athlete can obtain. It's the Gold medals of gold medal. In America a Gold medal translates into $$$$ Time to capitalize on all that training. All the hours of training. I’m not sure how it works for Russians.

The commentator ask the Russian gold medal winner what's next. What are the plans for your future. What were his hopes for the future.

His answer rocked my insignificant little world.

As it turned out the Gold medal winner had a full time job in Russia (or where ever his home town was). He was a fireman. His full time job was helping save the lives of his fellow citizens. He rescued people for his full time job. After a day of saving lives and making his community a better place to be he went to the ice skating rink and trained on his speed skating. He hope was to one day win a Gold medal for his family, his friends, his community. His Country.

They took the time to interview the Gold medal winner. He took the time to thank some people, his coaches, his teammates, his family, his friends. He won it for them.

The gold medal winner went on to say:

"I would surely give my gold medal up if only we could have peace in the world. Peace between American and Russia or rather The Soviet Union back then"

While holding the greatest prize any athlete can earn and possess his thoughts turn to peace across the world.

"I would surely give my gold medal up if only we could have peace in the world"

His words. His statement. His intention, all were awe inspiring.

As I tried to process the Russian's words they came up conflicting what I thought I knew about the russians. I was taught they were the enemy......In my mind I went through a long series of school textbooks, classroom discussions, news reports on TV and in the newspapers. I remembered movies, lots and lots of movies potraying russians as the enemy. They were even in the cartoons....all of this helped me to the conclusion the Russians were the bad people. America was the good..

These notions were programmed into me.

Someone has been lying to me. Someone has been lying to us. The skaters words changed me. Forever.

Who am I now?

"I would surely give my gold medal up if only we could have peace in the world"

The gold medal winner Those words changed me forever. Astonishment was exploding inside my mind. In my mind I watched a long series of lies and propaganda begin to fade away.

How can this be? I read in so many textbooks that the Russians were the enemy. I was taught in school they were bad. Evil. I watched movie after movie about the Russians being the enemy. I was taught they were bad and we were good. I was taught they wanted to hurt us, to hurt America. We needed a strong army to defend against them.

Now I watch this Russian fireman that won a gold medal and he offered to give it up in exchange for peace in the world. I don't ever recall hearing any American gold medal winners offering to give up their medals for world peace. This russian gentelman is not a bad guy. Why did the American government spend so much moneny in an effort to make me think the russians were the eneemy

Why did big business interests in American want me to hate russians? Why are the textbooks wrong? I have been lied to. We have been lied to. Americans have been lied to. The textbooks are wrong. The government is wrong. The news is wrong.
The seeds of contempt were planted in the fertile soil of my mind that day. They took root immediately. I'm changed. This changed me. Hearing that Russian gentleman speak those honest and heart felt words changed me.

 
At sixteen I thought, if you can't trust the government, if you can't trust the schools and textbooks, and if you can't trust the news/media, who can you trust?

I needed to hear that Russian gentleman speak. Maybe it was the beginning for me. The beginning of being woken up. Life is not what you think it is.

The Russians are not the enemy.

Who is?

Why does there always need to be an enemy?

What would are world be like if there was no enemy? Imagine what all that money, manpower and brainpower in action but not for war. Imagine all that working on peace and the betterment of humanity. This truly would be a garden of Eden. All we need to do is lose this need for the enemy.

But they keep lying to us.

 

B70) Time

It's been three years, three months and one week since the accident.

B69) В Россию с любовью

Я был поражен тем, у меня так много хитов от людей в России. Я так любопытно, что это обращение?


Я собираюсь посетить Россию в один прекрасный день

B67) Hearts and MInds

"When you got em by the balls their hearts and minds will follow"

 

B64) I shutter to think....

 

What if I won my appeal. What if won at trial. What if I exposed the lies told against me by the detective? What if I proved what happened that day at the airport. What if my conviction had never existed or been vacated. What if I won a record setting law suit against the state and all parties involved in my wrongful prosecution and imprisonment.

Money. Lots and lots of money if only the truth would have come out.

So much good came from prison ------------------------------------- for me. I shudder to think about life had I not spent six years in prison. What if my spiritual ephapiny never happened.

I shudder to think...

B63) Some of my appeal facts

He lied. At my trial the detective who arrested me lied on the witness stand. It's called perjury punishable with up to five years in prison. The detective who arrested me at Sky Harbor International airport Perjured himself in order to secure a conviction against me. Even though I was the defendant in the case I was stunned at what the detective testified to.

There were two detectives at the airport. Only one showed up for the trail. Why is this? Why didn't my lawyer put both on the witness stand?

He lied because of me? This goes to show you how low his moral threshold was. Break the law to enforce the law. It's hypocrisy.

Please keep in mind I was guilty. I had weed in my luggage. But there are rules. Laws. If the cops don't uphold the laws, what good are they?

When I heard the lies It was obvious they were trying to hide something. When the prosecutor does not want the truth or facts muddying up his , her or their case, then you know somethings wrong.

The courts exist for facts. They are seeking the truth.

The end does not justify the means

I was arrested at Sky Harbor International Airport. I believe it was early afternoon. Could have been late morning. I checked my luggage at the ticket counter up front. With my boarding pass in hand I headed to the gate. It was a convenient coincidence to find my boarding gate next to one of the airport bars.

I need a drink. I was so nervous. Still after all these years I was nervous. On the outside I was calm and happy. All was right with me and the world. On the inside, my guts were in knots. My heart was racing like the engine at the Indy 500. Living in this duality comes at a price. You don’t realize the price until you are standing there with the bill in your hand. ---

It’s too late.

You own it.

I grabbed a vodka rocks and headed to the giant window in front of the plane I would soon board. I stood there watching and looking attentively for my suitcases as the baggage handlers loaded suitcase after suitcase. Bingo. There they are. Whew. One of the luggage guys loads my marijuana filled suitcases into the cargo hold.

Whew. Wow. Okay. Good. Good. Good.

That’s over. That’s the rough part. They would have busted me by now if they were going to bust me at all. I can relax. Such a relief. I do relax. I can let my guard down now, at least for the flight. I will begin to feel the panic again as soon as the wheels touch the ground at chicago’s O'Hara international airport.

Sometimes its better to be lucky instead of being good.

As I sat there at the bar I felt like I dodged a bullet. I get it. I know it. I do realize it. My name is Chip Knight and I just dodged another bullet. This is what I thought as I sat there. I could relax for a few hours. Then someone tapped me on the shoulder. I was sitting at the bar relaxing and enjoying how fucking smart I am. I want to make a declaration.

“My name is chip knight and I’m a genius with more guts than brains. I can do anything”

I turned around in my bar stool to see who was tapping on my shoulder while in my euphoria.

It was a cop.

Yes.

I am not kidding.

All I could see was the badge. All I could feel was the beginning of the depth of my stupidity. I could see it and I could feel it. It had no end. There was no bottom. I was in free fall into the depths of Hell. With the ground rushing up at me I froze in time, right there. With that hellish feeling. I had to look away. All I could see coming was a ghastly and wretched sight.

Instantly I have a new declaration:

My name is chip knight, I am the stupidest man on the planet.

It’s horrifying how fast things can change.

I was arrested and put in handcuffs. The police officers took my boarding ticket with attached luggage reciepts. The cops inlisted the help of a baggage handler to go into the plane's carho hold and retrieve my luggage.

Accourding to the cops my luggage never made it to the plane. According to the cops, I was arrested at the ticket counter.

The baggage handler is the person that can testify as to what really happened on that day. My appeal was based on finding that luggage handler. That man could free with me his testimony.

B62) Court appointed lawyers (part 1)

The detective perjured himself during my trail. I can prove this on appeal. This is the reason for the  appeal. When I prove the detective lied on the witness stand I get to walk. Not only will I be freed, I get to sue the detective, personally (his car his house his monies would be mine). My trail lawyer told me when the cop went outside the bounds of the law in his efforts to catch me he opened his self up personally for criminal and civil damages. I can sue him and the police department for their illegal actions.

Years I was investigate. Time and time again they came close. Eventually they got me, at the airport. They had an informant giving them info on my travel plans. Was the informant my wife?  As it turns out I did not know my wife as well as I thought.  The cops were waiting for me. No one else knew I was on my way to the airport. It doesn't matter at this point.  If one of us had to go away I'm glad it was me. I'm very okay with it. My wife would not have been able to overcome something like prison. Years in prison. It would have destroyed her. Prison made me stronger. It awakened the sleeping giant within me.

It did not matter that the person testifying against me in front of the grand jury was my wife's best customer.  The time for this to matter has long passed. It was not the beginning of the end for  it was the end the end. The only thing that mattered in the end was who would be with our daughter? I much preferred it being my wife.


It's all my fault. I should have quit. I knew I was a target. I was under investigation. I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop myself.  I needed my drug, my fix. The work. I was addicted to the  work. I needed to stay busy like a drug trafficker does. I needed the adrenaline rush. I needed more. more. more god dam it! I want that fucking drug coursing through my body. Through my bloodstream. Adrenaline. I need adrenalin. I love adreanline. I want more. More. More.

I want

I need 

More.

More.

More.

To be right on the edge of living and dying. To be right on the edges of freedom and incarceration.

I'm all in.

I'm playing for all the marbles.

Back to the point:
Years I was investigate. When they finally got me red handed they fucked it up. The cop had to lie about what he did at the airport when he arrested me. All that work done, hours spent, money spent, manpower. Lots and lots of effort and the only path to a conviction for the prosecutor was to have the detective perjure himself.


It's comically stupid.

After the jury found me guilty of possession of marijuana my trial lawyer turned to me and said:

"I'm sorry. The conviction will never stand on appeal. I will testify as to my mistakes when in court for your appeal. 

I should have stood up immediately and told the judge what my lawyer said. To put it on the record.

She looked exhausted . Her tired and over worked incompetence cost me a conviction. I believed her when she said she would file the Rule 32 and testify. She did file the Rule 32. She did a great job at that. She was great at filing simple motions. Things got tricky when it was time to do your job and be a lawyer defending me. 

It was the night before the trail. The public defender stopped by the jail to have a pretrial conference with her client.  We began going over the facts of the case. She was going by the "story" the cops told her. My own lawyer never prepared a defense based on the truth and facts.  It was horrific news on the eve of the trail. My lawyer had not prepared a defense based on the truth and facts.

The trail did not go well.

Fact: The typical prosecutor has half the caseload of the typical public defender. That's not fair to the public defenders and it's especially not fair for the defendants. Because of the Constancy involved with utilizing the public defenders office.

My court appointed trail lawyer filed my Rule 32 (appeal for ineffectiveness of counsel). When the day came to be in court my trail lawyer/public defender nowhere to be found. My Public Defender was not good to her word. She decided I would pay for her incompetence. Me alone. She would never be held accountable for her incompetence as my lawyer.

When the day came to be in court for my appeal, for my Rule 32, guess who was absent? My trail lawyer, the public defender. The only advice my state appointed appeal lawyer had for me:

"Be a man and do the time"

Can you imagine a criminal defense lawyer saying something like that to a client. 

"Be a man and do the time"

He did not care about the facts of my case and appeal. He did not want to be a man and do the job he was paid to do. I had a path to freedom and my state sponsored appeal lawyer says:

"Be a man and do the time"

My state appointed appeal lawyer was not the least bit interested in the merits of my case or helping me in getting my conviction over turned.

I told my state appointed appeal lawyer:

"My trail lawyer told me she would testify as to her mistakes during my trail. Where is she"?

My state appointed appeals lawyer said to me:

"Why should your trail lawyer (the public defender) tarnish her reputation for you"

I responded:

"Because she made mistakes before my trail and during my trail resulting in my conviction. Isn't that enough of a reason? It's about responsibility, Isn't it? Isn't the determining of responsibility the reason for our criminal and civil courts?  I'm being held responsible for my actions. Why shouldn't my public defender be held accountable for her actions. Why shouldn't the detective that perjured himself during my trail be held accountable for his actions?

"Why shouldn't you be held accountable for your actions as my lawyer "

I said to my state appointed appeal lawyer"

Why should my trial lawyer not be held responsible for her action. Especially when her actions and gross incompetence lead to my conviction and a ten year prison sentence? Why am I made to be held accountable but no one else but all around me it? 

My appeal lawyer continued on with more of the same. His argument was:

"Be a man and do the time"

What an asshole my appeal lawyer was. He never envisioned I would end up a computer scientist after I got out of prison. He never imagined I would become a college professor, an IT consultant with a security clearance. None of those people ever thought I would end up with a credible voice that traveled round the world and back again on a daily basis.

Why didn't my appeal lawyer "be a man and do his job"? He was paid for his services then acted like an incompetent asshole.

With respect to the individuals utilizing the public defenders. Such a high percentage of those being represented by the public defenders consist of the poor. It's the poorest that society has been deemed "not worthy or of no value". It's the poorest of the poor in our society most often going to trail with a public defender. Time after time the people needing the most help are those getting the least help.