May 18, 2025 • 18 mins
Four lads went in on another inmate. Brutal attack apparently. They tried to cut his ears off because he's supposedly a nonce, aka a paedophile. Worse than the attack itself was the screaming from the lad.
During the three and a half years I was in prison I wrote over a million words by hand. Tales From The Jails is a contemporaneous account of my life, and attempts to thrive rather than merely survive, whilst incarcerated.
Most names have been changed. The events have not.
This is a Jekyll & Pride production.
Producer: Trevessa Newton
Title Music taken from The Confession, on the album Crimes Against Poetry (written and performed by The Shadow Poet, produced by Lance Thomas)
Copyright Jekyll & Pride Ltd 2025
@jekyllandpride2023
@theshadowpoettsp
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
During the three and a halfyears I was in prison, I wrote
(00:03):
over a million words by hand.
Tales from the Jails is acontemporaneous account of my
life, and attempts to thriverather than merely survive
whilst incarcerated.
Most names have been changed,but the events have not.
Episode 34 Lockdown, Ship OutsUnwanted Headlines.
(00:41):
It's Sunday and the madness hasalready kicked off.
Not 10 o'clock, and the place isin chaos.
We're stuck behind the door onceagain.
My daughter flies away onholiday at noon.
Graduation is behind her andthis is their treat.
Her and her uni friends.
(01:03):
I planned to call her when wewere opened up.
You must know the morning ritualbetter than I do now.
Unlocked, stride along thelanding, love call to T, or my
daughter or my mother.
However, T is at Burghley withher family, over 45 gym is
cancelled and worse, no call tomy daughter before she
(01:23):
disappears for a couple ofweeks.
She'll know there is an issue atthis end and the reason why I
haven't called.
Last night an officer wasswilled, and my neighbour, the
Smurf, has informed me throughthe pipes that already this
morning another officer has beenswilled with shite.
(01:45):
Just writing it makes me squirmin horror.
The less graphic version is aninmate has slung his own filth
over Mr.
W.
There will be all kinds ofconsequences as a result.
Help first and then the mentalside for the officer.
The wing is in lockdown again.
No doubting our fellow inmatehas crossed the line and once
(02:08):
they go in on him, properly,he's down to the block, battered
and then shipped out.
He'll be treated just as badlyat the next place from the
moment he lands.
It must be a sickeningexperience to be on the
receiving end of it.
11:00 AM.
(02:28):
Still parked on top bunk,although I've done a number of
gymnastics when relaying toReeve a few OJ Simpson moments,
highlighting the insanity of myown case and torturous appeal.
Sadly, we're being penalized forthe two incidents involving two
prisoners that we don't evenknow.
(02:48):
Punishing everyone when none ofus are involved, only turns the
place into a zoo, asylum andpressure cooker.
No one cares.
No one listens.
We have no voice or rights.
It's a collective punishment.
2:00 PM.
(03:09):
We've been served lunch behindthe door, a cold hot meal that I
handed over to Reeve.
The Mufti squad are in, andthree more lads have been
removed and dealt with.
The atmosphere is tense, eventhough we're all behind the
doors.
6:00 PM.
The latest news is the brokenblock is now full.
(03:33):
Lads are being pulled out oftheir cell and straight into the
prison van.
That's where they'll receive agood hiding and then they'll be
transferred.
My only satisfaction so fartoday is I had a chance to watch
the F1.
Rosberg won at Monza.
(03:53):
The chances of being unlockedhave faded from possibly to
unlikely.
Smurf said that an officer toldhim before that the Governor has
ordered the lockdown.
The same officer said it wastime to fight fire with fire.
OMG.
(04:15):
It's the case of, what a day,that's turned into, what a
night.
We've lost count of the Muftisquad ship outs.
Monday.
Yesterday was tough, long, slow,and that was just stuck in the
(04:37):
cell behind the door.
Beyond it was chaos.
No one was being let out.
Some were dragged out screamingand fighting, but overpowered,
wired up quickly, battered andshipped out.
We'd had enough of the TV afterMatch of the Day.
If I didn't have porridge, itwould've felt like I was on
(04:58):
hunger strike.
The main thing was, I avoidedmost of the junk stuff such as
biscuits and pot noodles,although I did indulge in a tin
of rice pudding.
You can buy it on the canteensheet, it's£1.83.
It was out of the tin and intomy blue plastic bowl, room
(05:20):
temperature, and obviously Igive the inside a finish off
with the spoon.
It's a treat as much as it'sdesperation.
The zoo never slept and I layfor hours thinking, this is for
real.
And I'm powerless to do anythingabout it other than experience
(05:42):
this head fuck and make it tothe other side as unscathed as
possible.
It was a long night and a slowwait to see if we would be
opened up this morning and whenI walked at love pace along the
landing to phone T onceunlocked, I was not expecting
her to announce that I was onceagain headlines on The Echo
(06:02):
website, aka the Facebook ofcrime.
T saw the funny side better thanI did and highlighted the irony,
i.e.
the unauthorized use of THEphoto, me sat on the Bentley,
again.
(06:22):
I'd half wondered, maybe Ishould say, hoped, that the POCA
hearing, that was not a hearingfor me because I was kept in the
cells below the courts andpurposely left out in away from
the court proceedings.
The judge could control anddictate proceedings far easier
with me out of the way.
(06:43):
T heard from my daughter'smother, my ex.
In all fairness, she found ithilarious too, i.e.
crazy stuff for the wholefamily, but pure Hollywood.
I was relieved.
My first thoughts were of mydaughter and my parents, but T
and my ex are leading from thefront in resilience and a sense
(07:05):
of humour too.
But the headlines out of theblue is a gut wrenching feeling,
and the fallout continues toreignite the stigma and shame
for my loved ones and family.
By 11 o'clock, three officershad pulled me.
They'd seen it, and at 1.45,when walking over to visits, an
(07:25):
SO pulled me.
I cannot control, change orinfluence any of it and expect
at any point to be told thatit's a big spread in the evening
newspaper.
Toenails was all over it atlunch, and then the rest of the
lads.
I can't deny this was on mymind, but I remain determined
(07:49):
for it not to hijack T's visit.
The reality is T makes anincredible effort to come and
see me and never ceases to amazeme how she can put me and our
relationship before herself.
She's generous, gentle, caring,thoughtful.
At the same time, she's superprofessional, super intelligent,
(08:12):
and multi-talented.
But what truly makes T differentis her humility.
It's in her DNA.
She has numerous challenges andmoney issues through no fault of
her own.
And yet, every day she's fun andselfless.
T books the visits.
(08:33):
Patience and tolerance on thenext level that, because booking
a visit can take hours, and shemanages to book time off work,
work around me, make a hugeeffort, and rock up to Walton
Prison full of fun and love andonly eyes for me.
How does one describe T withoutusing superlatives constantly?
(08:57):
I've written many times, I'm solucky that she loves and
believes in me, and us.
It hurts, in fact, it crushes meto have to suggest lowering her
voice in visits and some of thelaughter.
She's way too posh for Walton'svisits hall and she has class.
(09:21):
That and too much fun, I'mafraid it only attracts the
wrong kind of attention.
Not everyone is so in love onvisits, and between the groping,
the attempted passovers, that'sthe visitors passing something
onto the inmates, and seethingjealousy that combusts in visits
when an inmate kicks off on hismissus, and not forgetting
(09:45):
inmates going at each other orvendetta attacks, very few
visits runs smoothly.
My next door neighbour is a deadringer for Jack Nicholson.
By that I mean a cross betweenOne Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest,
and two, The Shining, is on thepipes the moment we land back
(10:06):
from work with the news of theday.
Firstly, four lads went in onanother inmate.
Brutal attack apparently.
They tried to cut his ears offbecause he's supposedly a nonce,
aka a paedophile.
Worse than the attack itself wasthe screaming from the lad.
(10:28):
Horrific was the word he used.
I did wonder how we didn't know,considering everyone in and out
normally passes throughreception.
I assumed he would've gone tohospital for medical attention.
The other big news, I alreadyknew, my headlines in The Echo,
(10:48):
although thankfully it did notmake the papers.
It is strange, but of late,night after night, my
neighbour's chat through thepipes has been entertaining as
much as it has been atransformation.
My neighbour, landed with severemental health issues, wild
(11:10):
behaviour and head fucked, tocalming down considerably, and
displaying a crazy, fun sense ofhumour.
He thrills in my lack of slangknowledge in jail talk, or
should I say gallows talk?
The lads think there is abromance developing between us
and impersonations are a regularthing, or albeit, all in the
(11:33):
best of humour.
Slowly over time, I've reachedthe point where it's easier to
be myself than not.
Toenails and the posse are moodhoovers, sucking the life out of
the room or conversation fromthe moment they enter.
(11:53):
He thrilled and dined out forweeks on his one pound POCA and
the prospect of me gettingslammed.
I kept my gun powder dry and hadto listen to plenty of digs and
snipes intended to grind me downand fuck with my head.
That was, until I returned fromcourt.
(12:15):
In a strange type of way,relaying to the lads what went
on or what didn't go on, andback to, what have you really
done G?
Why has this judge and his palsgot a super hard on for you, a
term that implies, excited.
(12:36):
Toenails gloated at the table,the one pound POCA shout again.
I put it on him, reframed it.
I can't speak for the lads, butfrom an outsider looking in, the
one pound POCA makes you anobody, not a fucking mastermind
and mine weirdly elevates meinto a somebody, even though it
(13:01):
will really hurt if I lose.
Strange how people perceivethings, isn't it?
One of us is Poundland and theother is Harvey Nicks.
My neighbour loved that line somuch when he heard it from the
other lads he repeats it in fullimpersonation of myself at least
(13:22):
three times per night throughthe pipes.
Have I mentioned the fist bumpwith Brio in the gym.
Seriously, a real black dudefist bumped 51-year-old me in
the gym.
Of course, everyone spotted it.
I swear, it was like WillFerrell in Get Hard.
(13:42):
The lads loved it.
Another string of impersonationsfollowed and fun for the day.
The other thing I must raise isthe lads touching me as in the
muscles, and toning, and evenmore noticeable in the shower.
Arr ay, G, you're not shy areyou fella, is a regular shout.
(14:07):
You know, when I'm in theshower.
Toenails hates it.
My favorite trick Is to pick upa smaller T-shirt and put it on
in front of the lads and thensay or ask, do you think this
looks too big?
Well, you can imagine how theylight up and the banter.
(14:27):
The lads in general are far morerelaxed with me nowadays.
For all that has been thrown atme in my direction, I've
survived it.
I haven't bitten or lost my cooland so far, I haven't been
crushed.
I don't hide or disguise my lovefor T.
No.
I don't broadcast it either ortry to prove it, but they know
(14:51):
this.
I make love calls to T.
I'd rather speak and be with herthan anyone inside.
No disrespect but, shouldn't weall feel like that?
And respect.
If you don't have respect, thenwhy are you together?
Love is not enough.
(15:12):
Ironically, and thankfully, noone has ever crossed the line in
here, not even Toenails, and I'malways grateful for that.
My heart aches at the cruelseparation.
But I do not get down, no.
Instead, I pursue being positiveand optimistic and hold onto
(15:36):
that all of this has a purposeand positive outcome.
I want to be able to demonstratewith actions rather than just
words of love that I'm workingon being worth the wait.
However, Walton visits is notthe best place for a date.
(16:04):
It's Wednesday.
I'll keep it short.
The intensity hangs like fumesof petrol sticking to the inside
of your nose and throat.
The place is a mix of agitatorsand the agitated.
No matter where you stand, orevery corner you turn it feels
ominous.
(16:25):
Officers have gone moody oneveryone.
Definitely a stronger sense ofus and them divide.
Lads are on eggshells.
The place is a powder keg.
It's impossible to switch off orrelax due to the constant threat
of violence.
If I did not work in reception,my prison time could be very,
very different.
(16:48):
The swilling attacks on officershave made a terrible situation
far worse.
Any compassion, leniency orfairness directed to any inmate
has suddenly stopped.
Rigby is still in the block andwrecking every cell that they
put him in.
(17:09):
Day by day, night by night, myfellow inmates destroy what's
left of this crumbling cesspit.
As I walk around, i.e.
trips to the stores or kitchen,the rubbish, filth and carnage
is everywhere.
An outsider would probablyconclude that the Governor
(17:30):
doesn't give a fuck.
And the officers have as much asgiven up.
It makes me think of how canofficers go home at night with
any sense of pride in theirwork?
It's not a career, it's a curse.
What's interesting is I've neverseen the police brought in once.
(17:53):
No one is ever questioned orcharged.
But it is like the wild west ofviolence.
If all of this isn't bad enough,there's no gym, another
punishment that creates untoldtensions.
The only good news is that thedays of madness and ship outs
and tensions have distractedToenails and the posse from
(18:16):
focusing on me.
When this blows over,unfortunately, trouble of the
constant kind returns.
During the three and a halfyears I was in prison, I wrote
(00:03):
over a million words by hand.
Tales from the Jails is acontemporaneous account of my
life, and attempts to thriverather than merely survive
whilst incarcerated.
Most names have been changed,but the events have not.
Episode 34 Lockdown, Ship OutsUnwanted Headlines.
(00:41):
It's Sunday and the madness hasalready kicked off.
Not 10 o'clock, and the place isin chaos.
We're stuck behind the door onceagain.
My daughter flies away onholiday at noon.
Graduation is behind her andthis is their treat.
Her and her uni friends.
(01:03):
I planned to call her when wewere opened up.
You must know the morning ritualbetter than I do now.
Unlocked, stride along thelanding, love call to T, or my
daughter or my mother.
However, T is at Burghley withher family, over 45 gym is
cancelled and worse, no call tomy daughter before she
(01:23):
disappears for a couple ofweeks.
She'll know there is an issue atthis end and the reason why I
haven't called.
Last night an officer wasswilled, and my neighbour, the
Smurf, has informed me throughthe pipes that already this
morning another officer has beenswilled with shite.
(01:45):
Just writing it makes me squirmin horror.
The less graphic version is aninmate has slung his own filth
over Mr.
W.
There will be all kinds ofconsequences as a result.
Help first and then the mentalside for the officer.
The wing is in lockdown again.
No doubting our fellow inmatehas crossed the line and once
(02:08):
they go in on him, properly,he's down to the block, battered
and then shipped out.
He'll be treated just as badlyat the next place from the
moment he lands.
It must be a sickeningexperience to be on the
receiving end of it.
11:00 AM.
(02:28):
Still parked on top bunk,although I've done a number of
gymnastics when relaying toReeve a few OJ Simpson moments,
highlighting the insanity of myown case and torturous appeal.
Sadly, we're being penalized forthe two incidents involving two
prisoners that we don't evenknow.
(02:48):
Punishing everyone when none ofus are involved, only turns the
place into a zoo, asylum andpressure cooker.
No one cares.
No one listens.
We have no voice or rights.
It's a collective punishment.
2:00 PM.
(03:09):
We've been served lunch behindthe door, a cold hot meal that I
handed over to Reeve.
The Mufti squad are in, andthree more lads have been
removed and dealt with.
The atmosphere is tense, eventhough we're all behind the
doors.
6:00 PM.
The latest news is the brokenblock is now full.
(03:33):
Lads are being pulled out oftheir cell and straight into the
prison van.
That's where they'll receive agood hiding and then they'll be
transferred.
My only satisfaction so fartoday is I had a chance to watch
the F1.
Rosberg won at Monza.
(03:53):
The chances of being unlockedhave faded from possibly to
unlikely.
Smurf said that an officer toldhim before that the Governor has
ordered the lockdown.
The same officer said it wastime to fight fire with fire.
OMG.
(04:15):
It's the case of, what a day,that's turned into, what a
night.
We've lost count of the Muftisquad ship outs.
Monday.
Yesterday was tough, long, slow,and that was just stuck in the
(04:37):
cell behind the door.
Beyond it was chaos.
No one was being let out.
Some were dragged out screamingand fighting, but overpowered,
wired up quickly, battered andshipped out.
We'd had enough of the TV afterMatch of the Day.
If I didn't have porridge, itwould've felt like I was on
(04:58):
hunger strike.
The main thing was, I avoidedmost of the junk stuff such as
biscuits and pot noodles,although I did indulge in a tin
of rice pudding.
You can buy it on the canteensheet, it's£1.83.
It was out of the tin and intomy blue plastic bowl, room
(05:20):
temperature, and obviously Igive the inside a finish off
with the spoon.
It's a treat as much as it'sdesperation.
The zoo never slept and I layfor hours thinking, this is for
real.
And I'm powerless to do anythingabout it other than experience
(05:42):
this head fuck and make it tothe other side as unscathed as
possible.
It was a long night and a slowwait to see if we would be
opened up this morning and whenI walked at love pace along the
landing to phone T onceunlocked, I was not expecting
her to announce that I was onceagain headlines on The Echo
(06:02):
website, aka the Facebook ofcrime.
T saw the funny side better thanI did and highlighted the irony,
i.e.
the unauthorized use of THEphoto, me sat on the Bentley,
again.
(06:22):
I'd half wondered, maybe Ishould say, hoped, that the POCA
hearing, that was not a hearingfor me because I was kept in the
cells below the courts andpurposely left out in away from
the court proceedings.
The judge could control anddictate proceedings far easier
with me out of the way.
(06:43):
T heard from my daughter'smother, my ex.
In all fairness, she found ithilarious too, i.e.
crazy stuff for the wholefamily, but pure Hollywood.
I was relieved.
My first thoughts were of mydaughter and my parents, but T
and my ex are leading from thefront in resilience and a sense
(07:05):
of humour too.
But the headlines out of theblue is a gut wrenching feeling,
and the fallout continues toreignite the stigma and shame
for my loved ones and family.
By 11 o'clock, three officershad pulled me.
They'd seen it, and at 1.45,when walking over to visits, an
(07:25):
SO pulled me.
I cannot control, change orinfluence any of it and expect
at any point to be told thatit's a big spread in the evening
newspaper.
Toenails was all over it atlunch, and then the rest of the
lads.
I can't deny this was on mymind, but I remain determined
(07:49):
for it not to hijack T's visit.
The reality is T makes anincredible effort to come and
see me and never ceases to amazeme how she can put me and our
relationship before herself.
She's generous, gentle, caring,thoughtful.
At the same time, she's superprofessional, super intelligent,
(08:12):
and multi-talented.
But what truly makes T differentis her humility.
It's in her DNA.
She has numerous challenges andmoney issues through no fault of
her own.
And yet, every day she's fun andselfless.
T books the visits.
(08:33):
Patience and tolerance on thenext level that, because booking
a visit can take hours, and shemanages to book time off work,
work around me, make a hugeeffort, and rock up to Walton
Prison full of fun and love andonly eyes for me.
How does one describe T withoutusing superlatives constantly?
(08:57):
I've written many times, I'm solucky that she loves and
believes in me, and us.
It hurts, in fact, it crushes meto have to suggest lowering her
voice in visits and some of thelaughter.
She's way too posh for Walton'svisits hall and she has class.
(09:21):
That and too much fun, I'mafraid it only attracts the
wrong kind of attention.
Not everyone is so in love onvisits, and between the groping,
the attempted passovers, that'sthe visitors passing something
onto the inmates, and seethingjealousy that combusts in visits
when an inmate kicks off on hismissus, and not forgetting
(09:45):
inmates going at each other orvendetta attacks, very few
visits runs smoothly.
My next door neighbour is a deadringer for Jack Nicholson.
By that I mean a cross betweenOne Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest,
and two, The Shining, is on thepipes the moment we land back
(10:06):
from work with the news of theday.
Firstly, four lads went in onanother inmate.
Brutal attack apparently.
They tried to cut his ears offbecause he's supposedly a nonce,
aka a paedophile.
Worse than the attack itself wasthe screaming from the lad.
(10:28):
Horrific was the word he used.
I did wonder how we didn't know,considering everyone in and out
normally passes throughreception.
I assumed he would've gone tohospital for medical attention.
The other big news, I alreadyknew, my headlines in The Echo,
(10:48):
although thankfully it did notmake the papers.
It is strange, but of late,night after night, my
neighbour's chat through thepipes has been entertaining as
much as it has been atransformation.
My neighbour, landed with severemental health issues, wild
(11:10):
behaviour and head fucked, tocalming down considerably, and
displaying a crazy, fun sense ofhumour.
He thrills in my lack of slangknowledge in jail talk, or
should I say gallows talk?
The lads think there is abromance developing between us
and impersonations are a regularthing, or albeit, all in the
(11:33):
best of humour.
Slowly over time, I've reachedthe point where it's easier to
be myself than not.
Toenails and the posse are moodhoovers, sucking the life out of
the room or conversation fromthe moment they enter.
(11:53):
He thrilled and dined out forweeks on his one pound POCA and
the prospect of me gettingslammed.
I kept my gun powder dry and hadto listen to plenty of digs and
snipes intended to grind me downand fuck with my head.
That was, until I returned fromcourt.
(12:15):
In a strange type of way,relaying to the lads what went
on or what didn't go on, andback to, what have you really
done G?
Why has this judge and his palsgot a super hard on for you, a
term that implies, excited.
(12:36):
Toenails gloated at the table,the one pound POCA shout again.
I put it on him, reframed it.
I can't speak for the lads, butfrom an outsider looking in, the
one pound POCA makes you anobody, not a fucking mastermind
and mine weirdly elevates meinto a somebody, even though it
(13:01):
will really hurt if I lose.
Strange how people perceivethings, isn't it?
One of us is Poundland and theother is Harvey Nicks.
My neighbour loved that line somuch when he heard it from the
other lads he repeats it in fullimpersonation of myself at least
(13:22):
three times per night throughthe pipes.
Have I mentioned the fist bumpwith Brio in the gym.
Seriously, a real black dudefist bumped 51-year-old me in
the gym.
Of course, everyone spotted it.
I swear, it was like WillFerrell in Get Hard.
(13:42):
The lads loved it.
Another string of impersonationsfollowed and fun for the day.
The other thing I must raise isthe lads touching me as in the
muscles, and toning, and evenmore noticeable in the shower.
Arr ay, G, you're not shy areyou fella, is a regular shout.
(14:07):
You know, when I'm in theshower.
Toenails hates it.
My favorite trick Is to pick upa smaller T-shirt and put it on
in front of the lads and thensay or ask, do you think this
looks too big?
Well, you can imagine how theylight up and the banter.
(14:27):
The lads in general are far morerelaxed with me nowadays.
For all that has been thrown atme in my direction, I've
survived it.
I haven't bitten or lost my cooland so far, I haven't been
crushed.
I don't hide or disguise my lovefor T.
No.
I don't broadcast it either ortry to prove it, but they know
(14:51):
this.
I make love calls to T.
I'd rather speak and be with herthan anyone inside.
No disrespect but, shouldn't weall feel like that?
And respect.
If you don't have respect, thenwhy are you together?
Love is not enough.
(15:12):
Ironically, and thankfully, noone has ever crossed the line in
here, not even Toenails, and I'malways grateful for that.
My heart aches at the cruelseparation.
But I do not get down, no.
Instead, I pursue being positiveand optimistic and hold onto
(15:36):
that all of this has a purposeand positive outcome.
I want to be able to demonstratewith actions rather than just
words of love that I'm workingon being worth the wait.
However, Walton visits is notthe best place for a date.
(16:04):
It's Wednesday.
I'll keep it short.
The intensity hangs like fumesof petrol sticking to the inside
of your nose and throat.
The place is a mix of agitatorsand the agitated.
No matter where you stand, orevery corner you turn it feels
ominous.
(16:25):
Officers have gone moody oneveryone.
Definitely a stronger sense ofus and them divide.
Lads are on eggshells.
The place is a powder keg.
It's impossible to switch off orrelax due to the constant threat
of violence.
If I did not work in reception,my prison time could be very,
very different.
(16:48):
The swilling attacks on officershave made a terrible situation
far worse.
Any compassion, leniency orfairness directed to any inmate
has suddenly stopped.
Rigby is still in the block andwrecking every cell that they
put him in.
(17:09):
Day by day, night by night, myfellow inmates destroy what's
left of this crumbling cesspit.
As I walk around, i.e.
trips to the stores or kitchen,the rubbish, filth and carnage
is everywhere.
An outsider would probablyconclude that the Governor
(17:30):
doesn't give a fuck.
And the officers have as much asgiven up.
It makes me think of how canofficers go home at night with
any sense of pride in theirwork?
It's not a career, it's a curse.
What's interesting is I've neverseen the police brought in once.
(17:53):
No one is ever questioned orcharged.
But it is like the wild west ofviolence.
If all of this isn't bad enough,there's no gym, another
punishment that creates untoldtensions.
The only good news is that thedays of madness and ship outs
and tensions have distractedToenails and the posse from
(18:16):
focusing on me.
When this blows over,unfortunately, trouble of the
constant kind returns.
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