His job was to fingerprint me for a ludicrous theft charge but he also asked me about my tattoos? I replied to him with ideas of anti-oppression and resistance. After surveying the surrounding area, he replies. When he speaks, he speaks of high taxes and corrupt, corporate controlled party politics, and fat cat, no good for nothin' Senators. He speaks of greed, money, and the injustices of capitalism. He knows his own role and recognizes its destructiveness, although, he just can't see just how culpable he really is. In all of this, it is not much a dialogue. I suppose what he needed was a confession. The fingerprinting booth acts as his confession cell and I as a priest. He finished the Monologue, not with feelings or even ideas, but with a statement. He looks around once again, reassuring himself no one is listening in and then says, "They better hope this revolution comes after I'm dead, because if it doesn't, I've already picked what side I'm on and I'll be the first to start unlocking cells."
Written on 07/15/09 from the Douglas County Jail
(Transcribed by Charity)