Don't worry, this is not political. Just a story based on firsthand experience.
In recent years, there's been a lot of talk concerning whether or not America engages in the torture of prisoners of war – or of anyone for that matter. The short answer is no. As a country, America does not officially practice the sadistic rituals of torture, per se. Usually.
The question then becomes, what qualifies as torture?
Torture chambers do exist in America, many of them. They can be found in virtually every city across the country. Prisoners of war are not the victims, but ordinary American citizens. I have seen several of these houses of pain, and though the look varies slightly from one to the next, each shares a number of features in common. These torture chambers do not engage in ripping out fingernails, they do not practice cutting off fingers, and they do not waterboard their subjects. But what they do is perhaps more sinister, evil and vile, more painful.
Generally, these places are small rooms, painted white. In the middle is a foreboding chair, the kind you'd see in an Alfred Hitchcock movie. The rooms are equipped with running water and electricity – old stand-bys and vital in any torturing endeavor – as well as several modern gadgets designed for the sole purpose of imposing pain. A vast array of knives and other primitive tools capable of inflicting sheer torment are arranged within easy reach of the administrator of the establishment.
The administrator, a smock-clad fiend, wielding various instruments of pain, is the dispenser of the torture. Usually a male, he is the sole arbiter of his victim's fate. Yet, he is not alone. One, and sometimes two or more of his cohorts, under the watchful eye of the master, work in concert to deliver as much physical trauma as possible.
In nearly all cases, these torture chambers make it a point to refrain from killing their subjects, choosing instead to cruelly prolong the agony, leaving their victims to suffer the effects for days, weeks, and occasionally, even extending to months.
As I said before, I've experienced these torture chambers firsthand. I know the horrors that take place in them. In fact, I was recently a reluctant victim. Thankfully, I survived - my trip to the dentist.
Bruce A. Borders, author and songwriter has over 500 songs and 9 books. Over My Dead Body, and The Journey, his latest books, are available on Apple I-Pad®, Amazon Kindle®, Barnes & Noble Nook® and Sony Reader®, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords. For more information, visit www.bruceaborders.com. See Bruce’s Amazon Author Page at www.amazon.com/author/bruceaborders or view his Smashwords Profile at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BruceABorders
In recent years, there's been a lot of talk concerning whether or not America engages in the torture of prisoners of war – or of anyone for that matter. The short answer is no. As a country, America does not officially practice the sadistic rituals of torture, per se. Usually.
The question then becomes, what qualifies as torture?
Torture chambers do exist in America, many of them. They can be found in virtually every city across the country. Prisoners of war are not the victims, but ordinary American citizens. I have seen several of these houses of pain, and though the look varies slightly from one to the next, each shares a number of features in common. These torture chambers do not engage in ripping out fingernails, they do not practice cutting off fingers, and they do not waterboard their subjects. But what they do is perhaps more sinister, evil and vile, more painful.
Generally, these places are small rooms, painted white. In the middle is a foreboding chair, the kind you'd see in an Alfred Hitchcock movie. The rooms are equipped with running water and electricity – old stand-bys and vital in any torturing endeavor – as well as several modern gadgets designed for the sole purpose of imposing pain. A vast array of knives and other primitive tools capable of inflicting sheer torment are arranged within easy reach of the administrator of the establishment.
The administrator, a smock-clad fiend, wielding various instruments of pain, is the dispenser of the torture. Usually a male, he is the sole arbiter of his victim's fate. Yet, he is not alone. One, and sometimes two or more of his cohorts, under the watchful eye of the master, work in concert to deliver as much physical trauma as possible.
In nearly all cases, these torture chambers make it a point to refrain from killing their subjects, choosing instead to cruelly prolong the agony, leaving their victims to suffer the effects for days, weeks, and occasionally, even extending to months.
As I said before, I've experienced these torture chambers firsthand. I know the horrors that take place in them. In fact, I was recently a reluctant victim. Thankfully, I survived - my trip to the dentist.
Bruce A. Borders, author and songwriter has over 500 songs and 9 books. Over My Dead Body, and The Journey, his latest books, are available on Apple I-Pad®, Amazon Kindle®, Barnes & Noble Nook® and Sony Reader®, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords. For more information, visit www.bruceaborders.com. See Bruce’s Amazon Author Page at www.amazon.com/author/bruceaborders or view his Smashwords Profile at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BruceABorders
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