"Do you take any prescription medications?" - wilde flower

No. My health is excellent. I still have all my teeth, good vision (though I do need the obligatory reading glasses for someone my age, 52), and no health issues. I haven't been sick with as much as a cold in as long as I can remember. While I don't formally exercise for the sake of exercise alone, I do get my heart rate up over a hundred at least once a day while “entertaining” myself privately. My heart rate at rest is 58 bpm, my weight is 145 pounds (at 6'1), my blood pressure, blood sugar, and cholesterol levels are all normal and healthy.

"How do you keep your spirits up?" - wilde flower

I'm honestly not sure, but I suspect it must take some effort to get depressed, and I simply don't exert that effort. At times, however, when my circumstances have been extremely distressing (shortly after my arrest for example, when I was kept for more than a year in a holding cell in the noisiest part of the jail, and constantly harrassed and insulted by the guards, or during the two-plus years I spent in a dark bug-infested cell with slime and mold growing on the walls in Riverside, California, in both cases having no T.V. or radio, and terrible food), I would simply empty my mind, or think about things that I didn't find depressing. I got “stressed” at times, but I don't recall ever getting depressed. I cried a lot shortly after my arrest, but even through the tears I once looked my attorney in the eyes and said; “Don't worry about me, I'm okay,” and smiled, to reassure him that I was not going over any “edges” anytime soon.

"Have you considered writing a book?" - wilde flower

Yes. Though I'm accustomed to expressing myself using a word processor, which I don't have access to anymore (they won't even let Federal prisoners have memory typewriters, or any typewriter at all in our cells anymore). I'm trying to accustom myself to “thinking” as a writer with only pencil and paper. (P.S. The so-called "Son of Sam Laws" that forbid prisoners from profiting by selling their story has been ruled unconstitutional, or so I have been told. I'm not sure if I'd want to write non-fiction anyway, though I fear that some day obligation will say I must. We'll see.)

"How does the lack of human contact affect your psyche?" - wilde flower

As far as I can tell, it doesn't. But then, I'm not completely isolated either. I'm in a cell by myself, but on a range of cells with about twelve or so other prisoners (all with Federal death sentences). The other prisoners treat me with what I'd call “guarded respect”. I interact with them on a minimum level, doing small favors like trading items from meal trays or commissary. But, I don't converse with them in general. I have an intelligent and engaging girlfriend whom I write two or three times a week, and several other very supportive friends whom I also write regularily, which keeps me pretty busy. I don't feel lonely, or alone hardly at all.

"Are there any circumstances under which you would agree to talk to the press?" - wilde flower

If by “the press” you mean commercial media, then yes, there are some circumstances in which I would consider it; but not for “the press” as in so-called “news agencies”. News agencies don't just report the news (i.e. information), as they like to claim, as much as they manufacture it. I'm not claiming they invent the information that they report (though, they have and regularily do that too), but they do routinely “slant” and “package” the information in order to “sell it” to the weak-minded masses. This is why I not only won't talk to “the press” (i.e. “news agencies”), but I seldom watch (or read, or listen to) “the news” either.

I have also refused numerous requests from other commerical media producers for interviews for the same reason. However, I would consider an interview, or participation in general, with a media producer that did not cater to the media market, such as a PBS program, or public radio program like NPR. I might also consider doing a marketted program interview with someone like Werner Herzog, who has produced a series of programs called On Death Row. I respect the way he acknowledges his personal feelings about the death penalty at the beginning of his programs, but then reports the facts and presents his interviewers without packaging or slanting. He seems honest, and we are fortunate in this care case that his programs contain content that some network executives think they can sell, even though they weren't manufactured for the marketplace. They are raw truth; which is what I try to make this blog about as well.

"Are you afraid to die?" - wilde flower

Honestly, no. I “look forward to my release/execution”. But, that does not mean I look forward to or fear my “death”. I do not believe in death, I believe only in life. This is why I refer to my execution as my “release day”. I do not think I will continue to exist in some “better place” after that; at least not “me” as the limitted being I am today (or will be on my “release day”). Joseph E. Duncan III will “cease to exist” in time and space beyond that moment; but life itself will never cease to exist. And, I identify with “life” more than I do with “Joseph E. Duncan III”. “What” I am changes from one moment to the next. And, “what” I am has “died” (ceased to exist) an infinite number of times, and will continue --- does continue --- to do so infinitely. But, “who” I am is life itself. And who I am does not change, or ever “cease to exist”. I don't just “believe” this; it is a vital part of my everyday experience! Thus, I couldn't “fear death” if I tried.

"Have you ever considered suicide?" - wilde flower

Once or twice, yes. But, I have never attempted suicide. I like to think that if I ever decide to kill myself, I would do it without hesitation or regret. I know at least a few different ways to do it, even in the most restrictive, so-called “suicide watch”, circumstances. I've been placed on “suicide watch” three times since my arrest, but all three times were for “stupid” reasons that had nothing to do with any thoughts on my part about suicide (for example, I wrote two Christian friends and asked them not to write me anymore because I felt our friendship had stagnated because of their Christian motives for writing; and I was placed on “suicide watch” because someone thought I was telling them “goodbye” for other reasons.

"If you don't blame 'the system' anymore, then how come you still criticize and write a lot about 'the system'?" - Kiefer89

Blame entails judgement, and judgement implies authority. Authority is the power to influence and/or control. Authority says, "My viewpoint is right, therefore your viewpoint should be the same as mine; and if it's not, then you are wrong, evil, sub-human, etc..." So, I am not judging society when I criticize it. I no longer presume that my views are "right", or "wrong". They are simply my views, with no authority or judgement behind them.

I believe there is only one true authority, and that is The Truth. The Truth does not judge the way men who exercise false authority do. The Truth says only what is and what is not. It does not every say, or even imply (as men who claim their authority comes from the truth often claim) what is "right" or "wrong".

So, when I write about, or criticize, or praise anything, I do so as honestly as I can in honor of The Truth's authority to say what is, and what is not. I make no judgements, and I cast no blame. Though to be honest --- as I must to honor The Truth --- I am not perfect, or even special in this regard. I sometimes, maybe even oft-times, let judgement, and blame, slip from my mind. I am only human, and a finite being after all. And yet I earnestly strive to be something more, and to be free from all judgement, and blame; especially my own.

"There are killers whom just kill for the fun of it. What is your opinion about them?" - SK, comments

I imagine that there are some people who have learned to associate killing --- or, more commonly, violence --- with some other pleasureable primary stimulus, such as the acquisition of money or drugs. So it seems to them that killing (or violence) is “fun”. But, I suspect that most people who boast of killing for fun are only kidding themselves, and everyone else, in order to avoid having to admit that they are responsible for what they do. This rationalization, which is usually (but certainly not always) buried in the unconscious from years of practice, goes something like this: “If I enjoy it, then I can't be blamed for it because it is my nature.” But, the truth is that they don't really enjoy it; nobody does, not even those who have been conditioned to derive pleasure from it. It is the anticipation of some primary (or other secondary) stimulus that creates the illusion of pleasure. As such, we are no better than Pavlov's salivating dogs receiving “pleasure” from the ringing bell that announces dinner. And I say “we” are no better, because WE are all subject to this same process of complex conditioning. Whether we want to admit it to ourselves or not, we are all capable of murder, and we are all responsible for it when it happens, whether we can see the blood on our hands or not.

"Did you enjoy molesting, raping, torturing and killing […]? Would you have done it just for the pleasure instead of revenge?" - SK, comments

Yes, I enjoyed “molesting” my victims. But, the rape was harder for me to enjoy, so much that I only actually succeeded in really raping just one of the children I kidnapped and murdered. And I had to concentrate to stay hard enough to do it because I did not enjoy hurting the child I was raping. I only did it because I felt I had to in order to invoke the justice I felt I was entitled to; justice that I thought would restore my own personal sense of “rightness” in the world.

I hated the killing worst of all. And I wouldn't have done any of it, not even the molesting, for pleasure alone. There are too many other things in life I enjoy more than molesting children, both sexual things and non-sexual things, like scuba diving, skiing, or even just riding my mountain bike when I'm in the mood for some exercise. And I don't take pleasure in violence at all. (I)

Notes:

(I) I don't think I'm special or even different than other people who kill, or even those who kill for pleasure. I may be a little more conscious of my motives, but that's all. I killed for the same ultimate reason that we all kill: because I thought that killing was the only solution I had to a critical problem. I was sorely mistaken.

"You once wrote about an encrypted diary more sincere than your original Fifth Nail blog. What did you write about in it? Was it more sincere than this blog?" - SK, comments

The encrypted "diary" that I kept on the laptop that I had with me in the Jeep when I was arrested (in 2005) had (has) a few "pornographic" images of the two children I kidnapped from Idaho that I felt were particularily artful (I deleted all but these few nude images of the children out of respect for Shasta, the lone survivor, knowing how the police tend to exploit such images in ways far more public and harmful than anything a so-called pedophile would even want). Aside from the photos there is a Microsoft Word document that containes detailed descriptions of my thoughts, intentions and actions from the time I left Fargo up until literally just hours before my arrest.

The title of the Word file is, "An American Nightmare". I wrote it hoping that maybe someday someone (not me) would read it with an understanding and insight that might help stop people like me from being psychologically born into this world. I documented mostly my thoughts and reasoning behind my decisions and intentions, but as I recall I made little mention of any actual feelings, which were mostly "shut down" at the time in order for me to be able to do the things I believed needed to be done.

I don't think it was any more sincere than this blog, but it was certainly more candid and forthcoming since I didn't have to worry about censorship, which is the primary limitation that restricts my ability to be completely candid even now. Prison mail censors, Internet media censors, blogspot content restrictions, and social outcry are all things I must consider with every exposition I write for the Fifth Nail. So-called free speech is a relative concept. If I truly could "speak" (or write) freely then I wouldn't have needed to encrypt anything. (I'm not suggesting speech should be completely free, nor that it shouldn't be - I'm only observing the fact that it's not nearly as free as most people pretend or otherwise presume.)

"What might have saved [you as a child] from growing into the criminal you became […]?" --- 'Joan McMillan'

There are an infinite number of ways for a person to become lost; but, there is ever only one real reason. We become lost when we lost our ability to see where we are. So, no matter how we become lost, or how lost we become, we can always be found again by simply restoring our ability to "see". 

Unfortunately, our present culture is one in which our children are taught to follow blindly, hand in hand, the ideological fancies of our ignorant leaders. And when a child, or any person for that matter, for any reason "let's go" of the hand that leads them, either out of fear, doubt, or even just curiousity, they quickly become lost having lost their ability to "see" where they are in the world from never having needed to see where they are going.

Our children never learn to use the "eyes" they were born with. And this, more than anything else, is the reason why so many become so lost, like me.

So, what might have saved me? I'll tell you what DID save me. The light, from a single candle, held in the hand of a child who had not yet learned to ignore what she could plainly see with her own eyes; that I was only a man, forced to wear the costume of a monster. By her light, and through her eyes, I saw plainly for myself not only where I was in the maze, but why I was there as well. I saw myself and my surroundings for the first time clearly since I was a child as well. And I became found again.

I'm referring metaphorically to the epiphany that caused me to throw down the rock that I had meant to kill that same child with. I saw in that moment that I could not kill her. Because I WAS her, and she was me. This is the truth that I was taught to ignore as a child. And, it is the truth that could have saved me as a child, and DID save me, and her, on that day.

"La Minotauromachie" (1935) by Pablo Picasso

[J.D. July 6, 2015]

"Your write [in response to another question] that you hope to be forgiven. What or who is it you want forgiveness from, and why?" - Kiefer89

My hope for forgiveness is not one I have for my own sake, but for the sake of those that condemn me instead. Remember, that to me, forgiveness is not something you do for someone else, it is something you do for yourself. My hope is that others will forgive me, not so I can have peace or some other relief from condemnation; but, so they can have peace in their own hearts, and no longer participate themselves in the cycle of suffering that currently plagues our world.

"Do you think you're going to heaven when you die?" - anonymous

No, not personally; or, rather, not as the individual I am this moment. I do believe, however, that life is eternal. But, in order for it to be eternal it must also by extension be infinite. That means in the strictest sense, I am God. But, again, not the individual I am at this particular moment. That individual is finite, and hence mortal, and will most certainly cease to exist beyond the time of his death. I will never exist as Joseph E. Duncan III (a.k.a. «Jet») again in the future beyond my death, and nor has Jet ever existed in the past before he was born. Jet's memories, body, and mind will be lost to the world, at least until the end of time (which must have an end at some point, since it seems to have had a beginning --- according to our best scientific understanding). (What happens upon «the end of time» is another question altogether; but I tend to follow Nietzsche's line of reasoning that says it all happens over again, with variations... which is perfectly consistent with modern quantum theory.)

So, sorry, Jet won't be seeing anyone in «heaven» or «hell» anytime soon. But, the Being I am (a.k.a. «God») will be here long after Jet has passed away. And, God will never forget about Jet, or stop loving me. So, in this way I will be in heaven after I die, as a memory in the mind of God. And since we exist in the first place as mere thoughts in that same mind, I will be just as real then as I am now... only not as temporal.

[J.D. May 28, 2015]

"What do you mean when you say you were 'out for revenge against society'? Those people you hurt never hurt you, so why did you hurt them?" - My Mom

There is probably nobody I wish more that I could make understand why I did what I did than my own mother. But, even though it has been ten years now since my arrest, I still get questions like this from her when we speak on the phone. And I can't tell you the number of times I have tried to explain it to her. The problem is that I can't yet honestly even explain it to myself. And if I can't make myself understand, then I know I'll never be able to make anyone else understand, much less my own mother.

So, my answer to this question, like all others, is no more than my current, and most honest, attempt to express what was going through my mind when I attacked and killed those people. It's not an excuse, and it's not an explanation. It is only my own understanding, for what it's worth.

No. «Those people» did not hurt me personally. And even though I did attack them personally, it wasn't them that I was trying to hurt, nor even wanted to hurt. Attacking «them», and specifically «their children», and even more specifically, in a manner that would invoke the most fear, hatred, and disgust from society in general, was the best way I knew to hurt society the same way I felt it hurt me. I wanted people in general to feel what i felt when I was taken from my family as a kid, psychologically tortured by a bunch of depraved men who openly lusted after me in ways I had never even imagined possible, betrayed by the police who promised to «get me the help I needed», and by the therapist who tried to bribe my mother for sex in exchange for «helping her son», and then sent to prison for another fifteen years, where I was repeatedly raped by other prisoners, and denied parole simply because I tried to «help» myself solve my own sickness.

I didn't blame the judge for sending me to an adult «sexual psychopath» treatment program when I was still very much just a naive and confused kid, or for later sending me to prison even though the pre-sentencing report said plainly that I would be targeted and raped by other prisoners because of my youth and appearance. And I didn't blame the prisoners who raped me, or the guards who refused to protect me when I went to them tearfully begging and terrified. I didn't blame the therapist for trying to bribe sex with my mother, or the «sexual psychopaths» for explicitly telling me over and over that I was just like them when I wasn't like them at all (it was known even back then that adult «offenders» have well-established behavior patterns and preferences, which make them difficult, but not impossible, to treat, whereas juvenile «offenders» have only weakly established behavior patterns and preferences that are much easier to change, and hence «treat» successfully). I didn't blame the parole board for repeatedly denying my parole and secretly conspiring with prison counselors (as a lawyer later discovered in my prison records) to keep me locked up over five times longer than the «recommended sentencing range» for my crime.

No, I didn't blame the judge who sentenced me, I blamed society for demanding that «sex offenders» like me be punished ten times or more severely for touching a boy's penis than a child abuser gets for beating a child half to death and leaving him brain damaged for life (like the man who did this to my three-year-old nephew). I didn't blame the prisoners who raped me, or the guards for letting them, but instead I blamed society for paying the guards to imprison me and society again for turning away when a «child rapist» gets raped in prison. I blamed society for allowing unqualified therapists to run an experimental treatment program with no effective oversight. And I blamed society for the fear mongering and ignorance that allowed the parole board to cling to its power (and money) for more than thirty years after it was supposed to be replaced by the Sentencing Reform Act (under which I would have served three to five years at the most). 

As you can tell, by the time I finally convinced a gay man to pay for the legal work necessary to get me out of prison so he could have sex with me, I was pretty damned pissed off at society. And in my mind that not only gave me the right to hurt anyone I wanted, it made me obligated to do so (if I didn't, then I was no better than they were; cowards who expected «justice» to be served up for them by someone else).

So no, «those people» never hurt me personally. But, they were members of society, and to me that made them fair game. I know now that I was only ever hurting myself. And, I know now, that they are only ever hurting themselves when they hurt me in the first place. And, even now «they» are only hurting themselves as they attempt to hurt me even more for hurting them again. I see the «cycle of justice» for what it is, a cycle of escalating violence and self-inflicted suffering.

I exited that cycle by throwing down the rock I meant to kill Shasta with, and then surrendering to the very people who have been hurting me all my life. I exited because of the courage to love that I found in the heart of my last intended victim. If she could love me, after all I had done to her, then I could love society --- but, not «society» at all, but the people who make up society --- the «people» who never hurt me at all. 

I came to realize that the «monster» that I was out for vengeance against (i.e. «society») never existed anyplace except in my own mind. It was an illusion that my mind invented as a way to gain control over my own painful experiences. Except, of course, because it was an illusion and not real, I never gained control of anything, and only ended up losing touch with what was real, and hence, losing control completely.

My unconscious mind played all sorts of tricks on me in order to maintain this illusion of «control». And because I bowed to the authority of my conscious mind (i.e. the delusion of self-control and volition), that I had been taught all my life was king (a lie that inflicts the entire human race), I never realized that I was attacking a chimera; at least not until I finally saw that chimera for what it was, by looking through the eyes of a child, who had not yet learned to trust the «King of Consciousness» (i.e. the «Lord of Deception» a.k.a. «The Devil», metaphorically, of course).

At that moment I bowed to the True King, and no longer feared the chimera I had fought and hated all my life. I saw that the «monster» was not real, nor where my «demons». But, more importantly, I saw --- for the first time since I myself was a small child --- what WAS real! I saw the life, and the capacity for love, that stood in front of me. I saw the child, Shasta, for the first time, instead of the underbelly of a «beast» that I thought had been hurting me all my life. And once I «saw» the child, Shasta, for what she was, I could no longer hurt her. I had «no choice» (as I have said many times since) but to protect her, and take her home.

So that, mom, is why I did what I did. And it is why «they» continue to do what they do (condemn me to death). Because they see only a «monster» that their unconscious mind constructs in order for their conscious minds to believe they have some «control» over the source of their own pain and suffering. They can't see me as a human being, or the «child» that you see, because they still bow to the Lord of Deception, in exchange for their precious illusion of power and control. They don't «see» that they have no control at all, because they are attacking only a chimera in their own minds, while their world collapses around them. This is the folly of false Justice. It is not about vengeance or punishment at all. It is simply nature at work. If we blame them for wanting to hurt us then we must blame ourselves, too. That would be buying back in to the illusion --- something I'll never do again. So, I forgive, and I pray you will too. (Forgiveness is really the only way! And all of this is in the Bible, and many other books as well.)

"What do you think makes people do what they do?" - M.M. of Emmitsburg, M.D.

Why do some dogs bite? Nature or nurture, or "a little of both" (as you suggest) is a misleading approach to this question. It dismisses volition as the primary factor. And I don't mean the superficial so-called “free will” that most people presume they have regarding simple decisions, such as when to sit down or stand up. No, I'm talking about the truest form of volition; the choices we make super-consciously about such things as when and where we will be born, and die (not to mention who we will love, and hate).

But, why DO some dogs bite? Isn't that what you are really asking? I think that dogs too have super-conscious volition over what they are (dogs), and whether or not they will choose to bite someone (human) or not at some point in their life. I'd like to say that these super-conscious choices are made before we are ever born; but they're not. They are made outside of and independent of the casual reality of temporal experience. They are not choices that are made the way we normally perceive choices to be made. They are choices made that take into consideration not only past experience, but future experience as well. As I have said before, a real choice can only be made if all causes (past experiences) and all consequences (future experiences) are taken into account. Otherwise, it is not a choice at all; it is only a random guess.

On the superficial level it doesn't matter why some dogs bite people and others don't. It only matters what YOU do when you get bit. Will you strike the dog immediately, and thus teach it not to bite? Or, will you wait, indefinitely, and debate a bunch of imagined (and invariably incorrect) reasons for why you were bitten? Maybe you will put the dog in a cage until you “figure out” why it bit you, and then what to do about it. By then of course the dog has no chance of ever learning not to bite people. And in most cases, the confinement and lack of normal social contact teaches the dog to behave even more antisocially. It begins urinating indoors, growling over food, and maybe even biting people every chance it gets.

Should we really be surprised? The dog bites because it is a dog after all. The better question is, why do we allow ourselves to be bitten?

To put this in the terms of your question: Instead of asking what makes other people do what they do; ask, what makes YOU do what YOU do. When you can honestly answer this question you will have your answer to the first.

[J.D. June 1, 2015]

"What do you expect from the courts and society?" - Timothy Huntly

I expect to be judged, condemned, hated, feared, persecuted, ostracized, spit upon, insulted, abused, and eventually killed. But, I hope to be embraced, loved, forgiven, and allowed once more to participate constructively with other people, and even children. My «hope» may seem unrealistic, but to me it is very real, and is what keeps me going in the face of the delusion of condemnation that presently engulfs all of us. My hope my not manifest in my lifetime; but it doesn't matter. Someday it will, someday we will see each other as One and the Same Entity, and we will love those who slip momentarily out of our embrace, and bring them closer rather than push them away. There will be no crime, no police, and no prisons in such a world. There will only be One Mind, and One Will; no ignorance, or fear. And we will be more free as individuals than we have ever been! That is my hope, and it is what ultimately compels me to write for the Fifth Nail. Even though what I write, no matter what I write, will continue to be condemned by the fearful masses for now, in my words my hope shines through for those with eyes to see, and the courage to love when so many can do no more than hate. Shasta was one. And the power of her love showed me «The Way» as no Christian proselytizer ever will. What her love did for me is proof that such a world is not only possible, but already on the way!

[J.D. May 23, 2015]

"Why are you refusing to pay your court ordered fines and restitution obligations?" --- Mr. Shepherd (SCU Case Manager, USP Terre Haute)

I'm paraphrasing this question from a conversation I had with Mr. Shepherd during which he repeatedly accused me of «playing the system» in order to avoid having to make prison imposed FRP («Financial Responsibility Program») payments. I tried several times to answer his question (and accusations) as we spoke, but he did not seem willing to hear anything I was saying (mostly, I supposed, because it wasn't what he wanted to hear). So, here is the answer for posterity's sake, and maybe for Mr. Shepherd too, if he ever decides to listen.

The answer is quite simple really. I'm not refusing to pay my court ordered fines and restitution at all. I'm only trying to avoid paying them with someone else's money. Let me explain...

If someone gives you a gift, you wouldn't sell it and use the money to pay a parking ticket would you? Even if the gift were cash (in a birthday card for example) you are still ethically obligated to use that money for something you'll enjoy, not to pay a library fine.

Of course, if you had a parking ticket or library fine that needed to be paid, and the gift was the only means you had for doing so, then --- with apologies, of course --- you'd have no choice but to hurt your friend's feelings and use the gift to take care of your obligation. It would be better though, if you sacrificed something other than your friend's feeling if you could, by using your grocery money, or gas money, if possible. Or, better yet, if you could put off paying the ticket/fine until another day, that would make the most sense; wouldn't it?

Well, that's all I'm trying to do. The FRP policy states that I am «exempt» if the amount of money I receive in a six month period is below a certain amount. So, I ask my friends not to send gifts in excess of that amount (which is what Mr. Shepherd calls «playing the system») so I won't have to use their money to pay my fines. It is a sacrifice on my part because my friends (and family) are more than willing to send enough money to cover the FRP payments and let me have more money for myself. But, I refuse to use their gifts to pay my obligations; and that's ALL I'm refusing. I'm not refusing to pay my fines at all. I'm just putting them off until I can pay them with my own money; which may well be forever. But, considering that I owe nearly a quarter-million dollars, I don't think the $25/month that Mr. Shepherd wants me to pay is going to make a bit of difference anyway. (And let's just ignore the minor fact that none of the $25 payments I was forced to pay in the last couple of years has ever been deducted from what I owe! The money simply disappears into the B.O.P. coffers, never to be seen or heard from again. And if I ask Mr. Shepherd where the money goes or what it is used for --- which I have, several times --- he claims not to know, and frequently insists it doesn't matter...only the «obligation» matters.)