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Tran-Dum … a BIG WORLD inside a SMALL COUNTRY

Tran-Dum … a BIG WORLD inside a SMALL COUNTRY

By Admin

Tran-Dum … a BIG WORLD inside a SMALL COUNTRY

You may wonder which mathematical theorem holds true that a proper subset could be bigger than a set it belongs to. You are right; yet, there is a logic behind when I put the world inside a country.  I would like to save the detail for a future article. However; for the sake of this paper, be informed that Tran-Dum is a prison compound in Norway, enclosed by barbed wires in the wilderness where you will find at least one person from ANY NATION that you may not be lucky to see or meet in the open fields (cities.)  

It is a place where abnormality is norm. Being human, things that you don’t imagine to happen occur quite often to become common. Forget the moral law, The Den breaks even the natural law to surprise you with something you never dream to exist, like a cup of WHITE coffee or BLACK milk.   

In that clink, a disposable plastic toothpick is treated as a lethal hypodermic needle. If you wish to get one, just a single one, you must pay a visit to a doctor for a prescription. Like any potentially high-risk tablet or needle, that tiny brush stick to clean between your teeth is considered as a dangerous ballistic missile. Having it in your morning kit without a medical personal’s script is a capital criminal act.  

Tran-Dum … a GRAVE for those who are ILLEGALY ALIVE

There is a Kurdish proverb that says: prison is a grave for people who are still alive. Inch-perfect!  Norwegian Immigration authorities got it without error even more than the owners (the Kurds.)

Tran-dum’s Forest, the wilderness once used by the Nazis as a perfect hideout for a mass grave is still serving Norwegian immigration authorities as a communal burial place. This time, not for those who are brutally murdered DEAD but for immigrants who still BREATHE and ILLEGALY ALIVE. It is the only place on the planet earth where a DEAD LAWYER can legally represent a LIVING PRISONER. Here under is a testimony of one desperate Kazakh prisoner who tried to reach out ‘his lawyer’ …  

Kazakh prisoner: Hello

A person on the other side of the phone: Hello

Kazakh prisoner: Lawyer X? I just wanted to discuss something about my case with you before … 

A person on the other side of the phone: I am not Lawyer X. I’m his son. Where did you get this number?

Kazakh prisoner: I got it from Tran-dum; they told me that your father is my lawyer to represent me in the court

A person on the other side of the phone: My father had passed away four years ago. I am his son and I’m not a lawyer by profession. I just use his phone …

Kazakh prisoner: I am sorry to hear that; I was assigned to your father by the authorities in Trandum to get a legal help. Sorry again …

A person on the other side of the phone: No worries. Good Luck.

The Kazakh prisoners took the bad news to the authorities in Tran-Dum. Luckily, he got another Lawyer’s phone number on that same day in the afternoon; and made a call to the new lawyer the next day in the morning … 

Kazakh prisoner: Hello

The New Lawyer: Hello

Kazakh Prisoner: May I speak to Lawyer Y?

The New Lawyer: I’m Lawyer Y.

Kazakh prisoner: I got your number from Trandum. They (the authorities) told me that you are my lawyer and going to represent me in the court …

The New Lawyer: Sorry! I can’t help you with that. My legal firm (office) had been closed 10 years ago and I’m in a completely different profession ever since

Kazakh prisoner: OK; thank you. Sorry …

The New Lawyer: No problem

There; I left ‘November’ and moved to ‘India.’ I don’t really know if that Kazakh prisoner succeeds to get a lawyer to represent him in the court just to formalize a predetermined EXECUTION (decision.)

Tran-Dum … HEAVEN on Earth for LAWYERS

When it comes to supply, Tran-Dum is like the Garden of Eden for those who practice … I mean, PLAY law. The cave provides everything the lawyers crave for. If you are secular and have difficulty to visualize the Heavenly Garden, just consider it as an EXCLUSIVE earthly restaurant with à la carte menu of prisoners (on legal term, clients.) The only difference is that, after the meal, the lawyers get no BILL to PAY a dime but a CREDIT to BE PAID a big sum. 

On that SOUL-on-SALE table, the dishes are not only many in variety but also yummy. The lawyers are served exotic dishes (clients) seasoned with additional flavors from a seriously diabetic to psychotic patients, from singles to parents, from elders above 70 to minors around 17, from ailing individuals that receive several shots per day to debilitated subjects who take twenty tablets on a daily base, … the list goes on. At times, the dishes served (prisoners arrived) sandwiched in metal WHEELCHAIRS or on wooden CRUNCHES; yet, soft and delicate for the lawyers’ sharp teeth to munch.  

Only those who consider themselves as lucky prisoners have a chance to see ‘their’ lawyers face to face. Otherwise; many feel like they are represented by sprits: audible to ears, invisible to eyes. It is really DISGRACEFUL to listen prisoners’ complaint regarding ‘their’ lawyers’ fake emotion and lies flooding through telephone lines.  Honestly, I didn’t know that LAW can go that much DISHONORABLY LOW to play it on the phone like a porn.

For those LOWYERS who arrive and leave the cemetery with a leather carryall, prisoners are nothing but inflated flesh without a soul. As long as the money keeps flowing, the got no heart to sense your feeling. On their tongues, hot tears from your eyes boiled by years of pain taste like the finest French wine. In fact, that is what the profession demands, the ABC of advocacy: to make worth out of someone else’s loss

By the way; when I mention HEAVEN here, I am referring the old and corrupted one in which the Angels were in captivity of the Devil. The time that EVIL heart Lucifer, who decorated his shoulder with THREE BIG STARS, was chief of staff. Definitely, this paragraph deserves a separate paper to discuss the ordeals in details. However; for this moment, as it is customary to pay a pastor for a funeral, I MUST THANK those low rank security personals who treated men and women, black and white, with kind heart and civil mind.

Det må du gjøre! (You must do that!)

An Iraqi prisoner who has been living in the country for more than two decades is talking to one of his kids on the phone … Married to a Norsk woman, both his son and daughter are born here in Norway. As he is using the phone’s speaker, the conversation was so clear to hear … and, at the end, …

Ok mitt liv, Jeg har bare noen minutter for denne uken. Jeg skall ringe deg på ettermiddagen å sjekke deg (‘Ok my life, I have just a few minutes left for this week, I will call and check on you in the afternoon‘)

… said the prisoned father for his 5 years old daughter who is sick and got a serious cold (flu.) As all the electronic devices (cellphones, computers, etc) of prisoners are confiscated throughout the imprisonment time, the authorities provide LIMITED MINUTES of phone call to families, relatives, and friends per week.  

Det må du gjøre! (You must do that!)

… replied his daughter in a faint but sweet voice amid her coughing.

Sure! Me too! I must do that! There is a need to come back and chronicle the horrible life and sham trials in that weird and dark ABOVEGROUND TORTURE tunnel.   

The Great Dictator (1940)

” … . Millions of despairing men, women, and little children – victims of the system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. 

To those who can hear me, I say, do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men and women who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, … Don’t give yourselves to these unnatural men! Machine men with machine minds and machine hearts! ” 

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