Spanish probe paints grim picture of Gitmo abuse

As I read it, it seemed perfect but lacking in its entirety, this idea, for what it lacks is what they hide from, what they fear, and what they fear is what I have. What they fear the most is the truth and the light. It is the same for them as it is for anyone who is hiding from the truth, which leaves me in a bit of a quandary. How am I, humble little writer, to fight these people, remain alive, and win my little battle? How can I present the truth without hurting the innocent or damaging myself? I thought long and hard and the answer was quite simple actually, I can not win, no that is not possible, but by writing the truth I can irritate them in the worst way.

They live in a million dollar home, actually it cost around four million, these blood sucking jackals do, for what else can you call those who prey on the weak and less fortunate to enrich themselves? The sit around at night eyeing each other slyly, arrogantly and coldly and recount their own self-righteous exploits, sitting amongst their opulent surrounding and stroking ill gotten trophies of all sorts with cold lecherous hands, telling each other how wonderful and clever they were in lying or stealing or getting something for nothing.

Or perhaps they recount with glee how they ran over an old lady while they were driving 200 on the side-streets and just paid off the cops who just looked the other way or blamed the next poor bloke who just happened to be the next to come along.

Perhaps the story of the day is how they had to fire one of the Tadjik workers who was living in their unfinished un-heated out-building and had lost his feet to frostbite. Poor bastard couldn’t walk anymore, who needs him, plenty more where he came from.

Or perhaps they have a good laugh about the poor workers who were huddled, 12 to a room in the basement of their newest building, and suffocated to death when a fire started and they could not get out because they had been locked in for the night. What a mess, and oh the bribes we had to pay!

Maybe the funny story of the day is about the tax official who they tried to bribe and then killed when it proved he or she was too honest to bribe. Yes, for that would be one worth retelling hundreds of times, to pump up the bravado and show everyone just how cool they really were. For that is what it is all about to them, who is cool, who is cooler, and who is the coolest. No morality. Neither conscience, nor intelligence really required. Education for them, who needs it? They can buy whatever diploma they want. They can enter any University they want and just cruise through. It doesn’t matter what they do in name or what qualification they have for their professions are the same, blood sucking leaches. Vampires, sharks, top-feeders, whatever you want to call them. I have no idea what they are calling themselves these days. What is cool, let them add that themselves.

Perhaps the story of the day, for what would another boring cold and dismal day be like without some story of the destruction of some poor defenseless person, is about the $40 million that they had transferred out of the country using their latest little scheme to launder the money and how damn clever it is and how much they have saved in escaping taxes.

Maybe the story is about how they got their greedy little fingers into the local pension fund, or the children’s home funds, and bought themselves the latest Brabus Mercedes and told the poor starving old people and children, “Sorry, no bread today, there is an economic crisis. Didn’t you know?”

Maybe the story is about all of the stolen painting adorning the walls of their mansion.

“Why waste a good painting at a museum where the stupid lesser people go and even pay their hard earned money to see what I have in my dining room,” They might declare, “the idiots! They do not understand art.”

“ What is the name of that painting? Don’t remember. Damn. Not important really. It’s 14^th century of course.”

Then of course there is the food, oh god, the caviar is so expensive this year. And the Hennesy I had to actually pay for it. And oh dear the salmon is not quite right, and oh throw another kilogram of meat to the dog. “

Oh, dear the dog, yes that also cost a million dollars, it has papers, had it imported.” “Had to bribe customs to the tune of $5,000.00 to get it into the country, all it does is bark all day.” “Tore the throat of some little kid open the other day, poor kid died I think.” “They wanted me to put the dog down, I said no way!” “That dog is private property. My property, had to pay the cops to say the kid asked for it.”

Maybe the story of the day is how the poor idiots in the company all think that they are going to get a bonus but they are only fooling themselves. Soon as Christmas comes around we’ll just fire half of them. Economic crisis, don’t you know?

Maybe the funny story of the day is how we raised the rents on our flats, after our good friends raised the value of the flats by %1000. Crisis, didn’t you hear? Can’t afford the rent? Go live in the station. That is not my sob story. Piss off poor people.

Maybe the dinnertime gossip is about the poor kid who died of cancer, he was such an idiot anyway, his teachers used to call him stupid and he would actually answer, what a laugh.

Or the kid who got hit by a train and was crippled for life, who cares? Have some more Champagne, oh it’s too wet, give it to the Churkis.

Maybe the story is about how some father killed his own son and keeps his daughter in a little tiny closet in the attic so she doesn’t grow. Oh, the father didn’t kill his son? Too late, we like that version. Daughter isn’t bound and chained? Oh, never mind the facts, we can say what we want.

Or the story is by the doctor who complains about the hospital not being able to afford medication and having to choose who dies, it is just so anti-Hippocratic oath, yeah the Doctor says, “My new Lexus does 260, used the funds from the hospital, economic crisis. Didn’t you hear?”

Maybe once again we need to decide where to go on holiday, damn again! Just got back.

“Oh me, oh my, Australia? Been there. India? No.”

“Damn you need English everywhere you go.”

“Yeah, bummer.”

“I got a diploma as a translator but I can’t speak English, actually daddy bought it”

“Hey that reminds me what happened to that teacher, that American, who worked in your school for something like thirteen years?”

“We made him a fuckin refugee cause he wouldn’t shut his damn mouth. Had some damn web site. Then we stopped paying him but the idiot didn’t just disappear like they usually do. He was getting on our nerves. Always writing things, talking politics. He actually had a picture of our president on the wall of his class.”

“Who? Medvedev?”

“Yeah, Medvedev the idiot.”

“So what happened to the teacher? I need to brush up on my speaking, I hate it when the waiters don’t understand me.”

“I can’t remember, he tried to take us to court and we black-listed him. He couldn’t get a job and kept trying to get us to give him his pay. I can't remember if we killed him or if he killed himself.”

“Didn’t he have kids or something?”

“Yeah, we had to kill them too.”

“You know what? Shut up and pass me that shish-ka-bob.”

“ I heard you bought the latest Infinity model. How is it?”

“The wife says we need something bigger. For the damn kids. I use it to pick up girls, and screw them on the way home.”

Maybe the story is about the alcoholics who we burned alive in their flat because they were too noisy and my tenants did not want to pay the rent anymore.

Or the new notebook that we had to cut some guys hand off to get.

Maybe the story is about the stupid teachers at the school who are always complaining they don’t have enough books. Damn books. The director has a new Jeep. There is a crisis you know.

Did you hear the one about the old lady crossing the road, some truck ran her over. The driver stopped, put a thousand bucks in her pocket and went home, apparently the cops sent him a thank you note.

Ha Ha…Pass the water pipe.

Maybe the story is about how we sold our worthless plot of land for $400,000.00 and had nowhere to launder the money so we opened a school and some courses, etc..

Maybe the story is about how we got around the latest regulation, or how much the latest bribe runs, or who is the coolest football team.

Maybe the story is about how they housekeeper made off with some jewelry after not being paid for a year and we had her killed.

Maybe the story is about the Jewish school and how it was burnt to the ground. Or the house that was burnt to the ground with the little old lady inside to make way for our parking lot, damn bitch wouldn’t just leave.

Maybe the story is about the guns in the basement and how long we have to keep them there until we can use them again.

Maybe the story is about the poor kid and his lesbian mother and who is the man in that family.

Maybe the story is about how to sell off Grandfather’s land.

“But he isn’t dead yet!”

“He is now”

Maybe the story is about how to get people to do more for us while we do less and pay less, economic crisis you know?

Maybe the story is about exploitation of workers, avoidance of taxes, intimidation, death threats, and lying to judges?

Maybe the story is concerning following people around and trying to get them to meet you alone in a dark park at night so you can "talk"?

Maybe it's about trying to entrap someone by using someone you think a person believes is their friend?

Maybe it's about harassment and phone calls and messages and threats around the clock? Yura Sologub?

Maybe it's about your little conspiracy to protect all of your stolen goods, fake companies, bribed officials and your entire house of cards?

Maybe the story is about how you managed to smuggle all that money out of the country by using little old ladies?

How about that bookkeeper? She sure can cook the books! She knows all the laws and how to break them. We bring in half a million with English, and six hundred thousand with all the other stuff and we pay taxes on nothing! Man have we got a great bookkeeper! She knows she could go to prison but she won't talk will she? Hell no. If she does we'll kill her like we do with anyone.

What about the summer camp and all the money we collected from MID for their children! That was great! We even stole money from the cops, and they were happy to give it to us for taking care of all of their fat stupid children. Isn't that what you all said? That the cops are stupid  and you all are so clever and have so many cops in your pockets?

What did you say? The cops all work for you? Don't count on it. There are honest cops and you'll have to see it for yourself.

Maybe the story is about…….. YOU ?????

To be continued...