A report out today flatly says that the U.S. government tortured inmates detained in Guantanamo Bay. Among the findings from the Red Cross was that the U.S. instituted a systematic form of psychological torture by:
>>Denying inmates information of their fates
>>Forced them to perform humiliating acts
>>Solitary confinement
>>Subjecting inmates to extreme temperatures
>>Oh, yeah, that little thing about having crazed American soldiers taking homo-erotic pictures of you on top of other inmantes.
The Red Cross also defined the use of torture as:
"If an interrogator knows that severe pain will result from his actions, if causing such harm is not his objective, he lacks the requisite specific intent even though the defendant did not act in good faith. Instead, a defendant is guilty of torture only if he acts with the express purpose of inflicting server pain or suffering on a person whitin his control."
Hello, Red Cross, have you ever thought to visit my job!
Talk about being in the dark about my fate. I've been doing my former supervisor's job and another including my own, thinking my hard-charging attitude will get me the job. The job was posted last month and I just interviewed for it last week. C'mon, Red Cross! What's my fate? Will I continue to nothing while faking an avalanche of work or while I succeed and continue doing nothing and have little need to conceal it? Oh, yeah, don't forget the perk of extra-long lunches, too.
Humiliating acts? How about sitting in the lunch room across from an old lady who feels the need to "air herself out", you know, sit in manner more befitting a man wearing jeans not a septangenerian wearing a dress. Red Cross, help me out! How do I eat my sandwich without noticing a clear shot down Broadway, mind you; a very gentrified Main Street.
Solitary confinement, well, drop that one, Red Cross. I never stay in my office long enough for it to count as confinement. The longest time I'm in solitary confinement at the workplace is when I bring the front page of the New York Times into the restroom.
Temperature changes? I work in a 98-year-old building in San Francisco. The beast withstood two major earthquakes in its history. Because it was well built, right? No, because it's actually an eight-story ice cube. I've probably spent my entire years salary just on the electric bill due to my desk heater running eight hours a day on its highest setting. It's not pretty working with a bunch of old ladies in frigid conditions. Instead of thinking, "Hey, it must be cold. Hey, did you drop some Skittles down you shirt?" Here, it's more like, "Hey, old woman, did you drop your entire container of prescription drugs down your blouse?"
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
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