Wasted Honor -

Carl R. ToersBijns is the author of the Wasted Honor Trilogy [Wasted Honor I,II and Gorilla Justice] and his newest book From the Womb to the Tomb, the Tony Lester Story, which is a reflection of his life and his experiences as a correctional officer and a correctional administrator retiring with the rank of deputy warden in the New Mexico and Arizona correctional systems.

Carl also wrote a book on his combat experience in the Kindle book titled - Combat Medic - Men with destiny - A red cross of Valor -

Carl is considered by many a rogue expert in the field of prison security systems since leaving the profession. Carl has been involved in the design of many pilot programs related to mental health treatment, security threat groups, suicide prevention, and maximum custody operational plans including double bunking max inmates and enhancing security for staff. He invites you to read his books so you can understand and grasp the cultural and political implications and influences of these prisons. He deals with the emotions, the stress and anxiety as well as the realities faced working inside a prison. He deals with the occupational risks while elaborating on the psychological impact of both prison worker and prisoner.

His most recent book, Gorilla Justice, is an un-edited raw fictional version of realistic prison experiences and events through the eyes of an anecdotal translation of the inmate’s plight and suffering while enduring the harsh and toxic prison environment including solitary confinement.

Carl has been interviewed by numerous news stations and newspapers in Phoenix regarding the escape from the Kingman prison and other high profile media cases related to wrongful deaths and suicides inside prisons. His insights have been solicited by the ACLU, Amnesty International, and various other legal firms representing solitary confinement cases in California and Arizona. He is currently working on the STG Step Down program at Pelican Bay and has offered his own experience insights with the Center of Constitutional Rights lawyers and interns to establish a core program at the SHU units. He has personally corresponded and written with SHU prisoners to assess the living conditions and how it impacts their long term placement inside these type of units that are similar to those in Arizona Florence Eyman special management unit where Carl was a unit deputy warden for almost two years before his promotion to Deputy Warden of Operations in Safford and Eyman.

He is a strong advocate for the mentally ill and is a board member of David's Hope Inc. a non-profit advocacy group in Phoenix and also serves as a senior advisor for Law Enforcement Officers Advocates Council in Chino, California As a subject matter expert and corrections consultant, Carl has provided interviews and spoken on national and international radio talk shows e.g. BBC CBC Lou Show & TV shows as well as the Associated Press.

I use sarcasm, satire, parodies and other means to make you think!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, February 1, 2016

Passing through a New Mexico Ghost Town

Passing Through a New Mexico Ghost Town –


The blazing hot sun peeked over the mountains, as the turquoise sky turned gold from the rising desert heat. My silver rimmed Oakley, shading my eyes from the bright New Mexico sky, I felt my grip on the steering wheel tightening as I approached the desolate town with no name to give it any fame and where once in history, a load of silver came.


Exhausted from driving all night long, looking for a place to eat and sleep, my delirious mind kicked in hallucinations that insomnia brings along with the feeling of being dead. Everything spins as my mind searches for some sanity in this crazy desert town without a name and where I so suddenly found a reason to stop to keep from going insane.


The white sand shimmers with the heat casting a shadow on the mirage of a pool of water in the middle of the road. Screeching brakes on my black colored Mustang coupe, my tires smoked as I came to a sudden stop, as this woman dressed in black came out of nowhere.


My God, I said to myself, I must be asleep, for as the woman stepped closer, I realize she was nothing but an illusion of what I longed to have with me on this long and isolated journey.

Could this be a dream, and if it is, I shouldn’t stop. I tell you now, that woman dressed in black is really a cop. Now her face comes into view, as her badge shines brightly in my mirror. Her hand on her gun, her face grim, serious and not looking like she is having much fun.


Now her face shifts into different faces. A chameleon she was, as she gets closer to my car, she doesn’t look at all the same as she did afar. I looked up into the empty space of my rear view mirror as the lights flash brightly from afar; the red white and blue flashes brings me back to the days of driving one of these cars.


But in this strange place, miles from nowhere that has a name, there is gap between what I was seeing and what I was thinking. I tried to tell myself, that should have been me, driving that car behind me and as I thought about the cop now standing next to my ride, I could feel the heat from her stare as if she was wanting me to invite her inside.


She hands me a piece of paper; she tells me to sign my name so she can let me go. I say in a very low voice; how can you be real when I can’t see your face and who you really are. She takes off her mirrored glasses, her blue eyes rushed my mind like rain, and all of a sudden, I am no longer exhausted and feeling no pain.


I asked her where a man can find a place to eat and sleep with a voice sort of hollow but toned to be pleasant and civilized. I try to tell her I have driven all night and exhausted and not looking for a fight. She laughs, the way a sensuous woman would and standing there in the middle of the road, she invited me for breakfast and even offered to cook.

My head falls backwards, my eyes are heavy and shut slowly as my mind fell asleep there alongside of the road. When I woke up some hours later, the only thing I saw a long eared jackrabbit being chased by a scrawny coyote and not a sign of people, or movement on the road. For a moment, I thought about the woman, the cop and the flashing lights and suddenly I realized none of this was real.