Christmas

Christmas in prison is a time of great ambivalence. The pains of imprisonment can become grossly magnified, the separation from loved ones more acute than normal. Some prisons make a small effort to ameliorate this. It was the case that we could have blank Xmas cards posted in to us by family or friends, which we could sign and return in bulk for family to post. It sounds like a small thing, but with our average wage being around £7 then having the cost of the cards and postage borne by family or friends is a significant help. And so the governor has now forbidden this practice.

Christmas is a cultural artefact that is uniformly imposed upon the land, it is inescapable. And we would like to join in, in some way. Good food, drink, jollity and awful TV are expected. To be surrounded by friends and family is central. And yet we are prevented from indulging in most of these celebrations. Hence our ambivalence.

Each of us deals with Xmas in a different way. Traditionally, I would be running around trying to find dope so that Xmas is obscured in a haze of THC smoke. Such is the absence of a drug culture here, though, I'm going to have to face it stone cold sober. Some embrace it with a vengeance, displaying reams of Xmas cards and rushing to the phones at unlock on the big day to call home.

Last year I became deeply anti-social, growling at any random half-wit who wished me a Merry Xmas. I scrounged a DVD player and someone was kind enough to lend me a box set of Star Trek Enterprise. Xmas week vanished as I locked my door and watched 70 hours of SciFi. It sounds terribly nerdy but I defend myself with two words - Jolene Blalock.

All of us like to have a blow-out, the chance to stuff our faces with Quality Street and pop. This requires we begin saving many weeks ahead and, for the unemployed like myself, is a non-starter. If I can just keep myself in tobacco over the holiday I'll be happy.

And yet if Xmas wasn't marked, we would be outraged. We have a little tree on the landing and the suicide netting is woven with flashing light-rope. The reality is that this is like sprinkling sugar on a turd but if it wasn't done, we wouldn't be happy.

Some years ago we helped decorate a tree with the packets that phone-cards were issued in. It looked quite good. Someone then set fire to it. As I said, the ambivalence runs deep.

 Editor's note: Ben is glad Christmas is over for another year, but asked me to put this post up anyhow.

Santa's Visit

Some Christmases ago we were out in the exercise yard, a fenced compound that abutted the perimeter wall.  Two hundred bored, cold men huddled in groups or trudging around anti-clockwise.

Then Santa appeared. An ex-prisoner, jailed for refusing to pay his poll tax and released months earlier, appeared at the top of the perimeter wall dressed in a Santa costume, and began to throw bags of chocolates and tobacco into the yard.

As we outnumbered the screws by 20 to 1, no effort was made to remove these goodies from us. They settled for frisking us as we left the yard to check we were free of weapons, leaving us to keep our pockets stuffed with treats.

A merry Christmas was had by all.

Yo ho ho!

Tidings of Comfort and Joy!

Bit cheeky, but if anyone feels like sending Ben a seasonal card, the post code for HMP Shepton Mallet is BA4 5LU. Meanwhile, I'll print and send in to him your good wishes.

Thank you,

Blog Editor

The Food Budget

The maximum allowance for our food stands at £2.10 per day. I'd like to tell you that this is more than the patrol dogs get, but I'd be lying. This is why prisoners don't have wet noses.

Christmas is on the horizon and some tabloid will reprint a menu handed to them by some landing-rat topping up his beer money. It will read like a fair spread.

Alas, on the plate it is slightly different. Where the menu says 'turkey', and the tabloids conjure up visions of a meaty leg of fowl, the reality is a slice of tinned meat. And so on.

There is no extra money for Christmas, unless the Governor finds some loose change in an obscure corner of his budget. Instead, the kitchen will be chipping away at the daily allowance from here on in, using the savings for Xmas.

When the media cannot even give you the truth about a simple meal, what hope is there for any debate around criminal justice? We all deserve better.