the offender

THE OFFENDER FACES
HIS OWN MORTALITY…

WELL, IT’S OFFICIAL. IT HAS BEEN
CONFIRMED. THERE IS NO TURNING
BACK TO THE IGNORANCE OF
YESTERDAY. NOW I KNOW… I AM
DYING . I AM DYING AND THERE IS
NOTHING THAT I CAN DO ABOUT IT. OH
SURE, THE DOCTOR HAD ALL SORTS OF
SUGGESTIONS THAT MAY OR MAY NOT
PROLONG MY LIFE, BUT IN THE END, THE
DIAGNOSIS IS THE SAME… I AM GOING
TO DIE. ANY LIFESTYLE CHANGES WILL
ONLY POSTPONE THE INEVITABLE. AND
AT WHAT COST, I ASK ? IF I WERE TO
ADOPT ALL THE SUGGESTED CHANGES,
WILL I BE LEFT WITH A LIFE WORTH
LIVING ? IT’S THE OLD “QUALITY OF
LIFE” ISSUE. I SUPPOSE I COULD SLAP
ON A RUBBER WHEN HAVING
INTERCOURSE WITH HAITIAN, I.V. DRUG
USING, BI-SEXUAL PROSTITUTES AND I
GUESS I COULD REFRAIN FROM
SHARING OTHERS’ SYRINGES. I AM NOT
SO HARD-HEADED THAT I WON’T TRY
SOME HEALTHY IDEAS.

ON THE OTHER HAND, THE IDEA OF A
WELL BALANCED DIET IS MORE THAN I
AM WILLING TO ENDURE. MULTIVITAMINS
AND ANTACIDS WERE
INVENTED SPECIFICALLY SO ONE
WOULDN’T HAVE TO EAT RIGHT. AS
FOR EXERCISE, I WOULD BE WILLING TO
START A DAILY ROUTINE IF I WAS
INCARCERATED AND FOUND MYSELF
WITH A LOT OF TIME ON MY HANDS. ON
SECOND THOUGHT, I PROBABLY
SHOULDN’T COMMIT WITHOUT
KNOWING WHAT GANG HAD CONTROL
OF THE YARD IN THIS HYPOTHETICAL
PRISON. MY POINT IS I USUALLY HAVE
MUCH MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO DO
THAN EXERCISE; THINGS LIKE
LOUNGING OR RESTING OR THINKING
TO NAME A FEW.

BUT I DIGRESS … IT SEEMS THIS WHOLE
PREDICAMENT WAS SET IN MOTION
LONG AGO. I AM DYING BECAUSE OF
THE GENES I HAVE INHERITED. IT
SEEMS MY FATE HAS BEEN SEALED
FROM THE VERY DAY I WAS BORN.
UNFORTUNATELY, I USED THE WORD
“CONGENITAL” TO DESCRIBE THE
ORIGIN OF MY MORTALITY WHEN
BREAKING THE NEWS TO MY
GIRLFRIEND. EVIDENTLY
“CONGENITAL” IS NEW TO HER
VOCABULARY, BECAUSE SHE ANGRILY
INFORMED ME THAT SHE WAS NEVER
GOING TO HAVE SEX WITH ME AGAIN.
SHE FINALLY STARTED DISPLAYING A
MORE APPROPRIATE RESPONSE AFTER
CHECKING WITH THE DICTIONARY AND
MY PHYSICIAN JUST TO MAKE SURE I
WASN’T LYING WHEN I SAID
“CONGENITAL” MEANT AT BIRTH AND
HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH ONE’S PENIS.

SINCE MY UPCOMING DEATH SEEMS TO
BE A MATTER OF HEREDITY I AM
NEARLY POSITIVE THIS IS THE FAULT OF
MY FATHER’S SIDE OF THE FAMILY. I
MEAN MY FATHER IS DEAD, HIS FATHER
IS DEAD, AND HIS FATHER’S FATHER IS
DEAD AS WELL. WHEREAS MY MOTHER
IS STILL QUITE HEALTHY AND OTHER
MEMBERS OF HER SIDE OF THE FAMILY
REFUSE TO DIE -- EVEN WHEN DOING SO
WOULD BE TO THEIR ADVANTAGE.

ODDLY ENOUGH, THE FACT THAT I’M
GOING TO DIE DOESN’T REALLY SEEM
TO BOTHER ME. I’M NOT AFRAID TO DIE,
IN FACT I LOOK FORWARD TO IT. I HAVE
ALWAYS BEEN OPEN TO NEW
EXPERIENCES. WHEN CRITICS AND
FRIENDS AND THE MEDIA TELL ME HOW
AMAZING SOME NEW FILM IS I AM
USUALLY DISAPPOINTED WHEN I
FINALLY SEE IT. THE MOVIE BEING THE
VICTIM OF UNREALISTIC
EXPECTATIONS. BY THE SAME TOKEN, I
AM OFTEN PLEASANTLY SURPRISED
WHEN I EXPECT LITTLE OR NOTHING
OUT OF A PICTURE. THAT BEING SAID,
THE BAR OF EXPECTATION HAS NOT
BEEN SET UNREASONABLE HIGH IN
REGARD TO DEATH. AS A MATTER OF
FACT, I HAVE FEW, IF ANY, PRECONCEIVED
NOTIONS SURROUNDING
MY DEMISE; THEREFORE, I DON’T THINK
THE EXPERIENCE WILL LEAVE ME
DISSATISFIED.

THE THING THAT DOES BOTHER ME IS
THAT THE DOCTORS CANNOT GIVE ME
ANY KIND OF REASONABLE TIMETABLE
TO PREPARE FOR THE BIG EVENT. I
MEAN IT’S EASY TO SAY “LIVE EVERY
DAY LIKE IT’S YOUR LAST”, BUT
QUITTING ONE’S JOB, TELLING PEOPLE
OFF, GOING ON A DRUG BINGE, AND
CLEARING OUT THE BANK ACCOUNT
ISN’T REALLY A GOOD IDEA IF IT TURNS
OUT THAT IT ISN’T THE LAST DAY. ON
THE OTHER HAND, WHO WANTS TO
SPEND THE PRECIOUS REMAINING DAYS
TOILING AWAY AT A JOB AND PAYING
BILLS AND BEING RESPONSIBLE ? NOT
ME, THAT’S FOR GODDAMN SURE. SO
YOU SEE THE PROBLEM ?

I WOULD FEEL MUCH BETTER ABOUT
MANAGING WHAT LIFE I HAVE
REMAINING IF THE TIME-FRAME COULD
BE NARROWED DOWN JUST A LITTLE.
MY DOCTOR SUGGESTED THAT WITH A
FEW LIFESTYLE CHANGES AND SOME
COMMITMENT ON MY PART, I COULD
LAST ANOTHER THIRTY YEARS OR
MORE. THAT BEING SAID, HE REFUSED
TO MAKE ANY KIND OF GUARANTEE,
POINTING OUT THAT I COULD GET HIT
BY A BUS TOMORROW. I REMARKED,
TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE,
THERE HASN’T BEEN A SINGLE CASE OF
BUS INFLICTED DEATH IN MY FAMILY.
NOW I’M NO DOCTOR, BUT IN LIGHT OF
MY FAMILY HISTORY I DON’T THINK I
CARRY THE ‘HIT BY BUS’ GENE.

MY COMPELLING ARGUMENTS WERE
BRUSHED ASIDE AND IT WAS RESTATED
THAT UNTIL MEDICAL SCIENCE FINDS A
CURE FOR DEATH, NO PROMISES COULD
BE MADE CONCERNING THE AMOUNT OF
TIME I HAVE LEFT.

SO ANY WAY YOU LOOK AT IT, I
CANNOT ESCAPE THE GRIM FACT THAT
SOMEDAY, EVENTUALLY, I AM GOING
TO DIE.

WHEN I WAS YOUNGER I FELT THE
BURNING DESIRE, THE NEED, TO
SOMEHOW LEAVE MY FINGERPRINTS ON
THE WORLD. FOR THERE TO BE SOME
PROOF THAT I HAD EXISTED AFTER MY
DEMISE. NOW THE CONCEPT JUST
REEKS OF EFFORT. I’M NOT GOING TO
CHANGE MY WHOLE LIFE TO SQUEEZE
OUT ANOTHER DECADE OR SO. I’LL DO
THE MINIMUM TO GET BY ( SLEEP AND
EAT FROM TIME TO TIME ), I’LL HAVE
FUN AND TRY TO BE ENTERTAINING TO
THOSE AROUND ME. BARRING A CURE
FOR THE COMMON DEATH BEING FOUND
WITHIN THE NEXT THIRTY-ODD YEARS, I
HOPE TO EXPIRE BEFORE MY YOUTHFUL
EXUBERANCE AND BOYISH CHARM ARE
INSTEAD PERCEIVED AS STUNTED
MATURITY OR PATHETIC
IRRESPONSIBILITY. I’M AWARE SOME
MIGHT ARGUE THAT IT’S ALREADY TOO
LATE FOR THAT WISH, BUT I WILL PRESS
ON, VALIANTLY, AS IF UNAWARE.