My favorite jailhouse sex scene is the one in The Longest Yard. Burt Reynolds is in the Florida state pen. A fellow inmate boasts of his powers as a fixer. “I can get you anything in here! I can get you laid in here!”
Burt is skeptical, so the fixer sets him up on some petty mission to the warden’s office. No one is there but the secretary, Bernadette Peters. She locks the doors and starts undressing Burt.
Burt (at 1:11 here): “You do this very often?”
Bernadette: “I’m just as far from Tallahassee as you are, honey.”
Life’s been imitating art all over recently. The big story here was the one out of Baltimore City Detention Center, where a prisoner named Tavon White, awaiting trial for attempted murder, has allegedly fathered five babies by four female prison guards and had carnal knowledge of at least nine more. Mr. White’s domination of his custodiennes extended well beyond the leg-spreading department: They were reportedly smuggling in contraband for him and helping his business enterprises.
The Baltimore story is only one of many. New York cop-killer Ronell Wilson (whose hairstyle seems to be inspired by the Mandelbrot Set) has been having the leg over with one of his guards, Nancy Gonzalez. Ms. Gonzalez gave birth to Wilson’s son a few weeks ago. She named the child Justus. “I took a chance because I was so vulnerable and wanted to be loved, and now I am carrying his child,” explained Ms. Gonzalez prior to delivery. Ahhhhhh.
That story came shortly after a similar case at a maximum-security facility in Fishkill, New York, where corrections office Tyshinia Love Brewster confessed to being six months pregnant with an inmate’s baby.
We of the fogey tendency, always a decade or two behind the times in noticing social changes, are surprised to learn that women are now serving as guards in men’s prisons. I consulted with a journalist friend, a crime reporter who is knowledgeable about these things. He rolled his eyes at my ignorance. “Derb, the average corrections officer in New York nowadays is a 200-pound black woman with a GED.” Good grief! And yes: A 2007 report showed women as 37 percent of adult correctional personnel. In Baltimore it’s over 60 percent.
It’s madness, of course. But it’s no more insane than putting women on submarines or calling homosexual shackups “marriages” or giving settlement rights to twenty-odd million illegal aliens when fifteen percent of citizens are on food stamps. We’ve been going collectively mad for years. After that initial brief surprise at the latest manifestation of lunacy, one sinks quickly back into apathy. Legalized polygamy? Blind air-traffic controllers? Green cards for all the women of Afghanistan? Whatever. Lunacy fatigue has set in.
It’s hard to ignore (though of course you should try) a certain common demographic thread running through these stories of knocked-up prison guards. Is this a black thing?
To some degree it’s bound to be. Black men are way overrepresented in prisons. Black female guards naturally feel racial solidarity with them. Many must have internalized the dominant liberal narrative about these soul brothers being victims of a cruel racist system. Further, most of the guardettes appear to come from black neighborhoods that have been depleted of males by the very fact of so many being locked up. They’re putting out for their caged charges on the Willie Sutton principle: This is where the men are.
Black women in any case seem to give it up more easily than nonblacks. “Nearly half (48%) of non-Hispanic black teen girls get pregnant at least once before age 20—nearly twice the national average.”
That said, it’s not just a black thing. Meet Montana State inmate Michael Allen Murphy, as white as you please, and irresistibly pleasing to some subset of females up there in the Treasure State. At any rate, Murphy persuaded several female prison officers to fellate him. He even seduced the house psychiatrist. (Physician, heal thyself.)
What’s going on here? The manosphere has an answer. Women are no longer dependent on men for support. Liberated from this bondage, they flock to alpha males—those gifted with the pickup arts. Humdrum good-provider beta males and clueless, lovelorn omegas are left out in the cold. Here’s the Lion of the Manosphere:
[H]ow alpha was Tavon?...On the streets, who knows for certain what quality of women he could get, but given his proven skill at seducing female prison guards to do his bidding, it’s a good bet he was probably pulling better quality outside than his available selection within prison…[But] even if Tavon was boffing ugly women, that’s still thirteen ugly women who decided to pass on loving, intimate relationships with omega or even lesser beta freemen for illicit harem duty with an attempted murderer in jail…[P]oor omegas and betas…they’re not just competing with free alphas, they’re competing with alphas ostensibly removed from societal circulation.
The tendency of women in this regard is surely not news. Lord Byron was “Mad, bad and dangerous to know,” thereby owning two of the three adjectives traditionally used to describe prison inmates: “the sad, the bad, and the mad.” Carmen went for the swaggering bullfighter, breaking the heart of poor beta José. Tannhäuser‘s confession that he’s been frolicking in the Palace of Love just makes Elisabeth even steamier under the silk, leaving poor beta Wolfgang plucking forlornly at his harp. Chicks dig jerks.
Out at the tail of the distribution are chicks who dig psychopaths. Bonnie thought the world of Clyde. Scott Peterson, after murdering his wife, was swamped with marriage proposals. Now we hear that the surviving Boston bomber has a female fan club. Shrinks have a word for it: hybristophilia.
Speaking as a beta provider with zero inclination to criminality, I find it all depressing. Would I have had a richer, more fulfilling life as a jerk? Possibly: but hey, at least I’m not in jail.
Image of American inmate courtesy of Shutterstock
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