Tattoos: Edu by the PoPo, PJ feet, Jesus

Because of the immediacy of a certain set of weird circumstances in which would-be misdemeanor activity of a certain individual – objectively speaking – could have jumped to a class “H” and then class “I” felony (here in NC), a cop from the other side of these USA was telling me sometime later about the meaning of some tattoos[!].

• The cop mentioned the biohazard symbol that I see all the time at the local hospitals and rehabs and nursing homes. It’s pasted on all the sharps receptacles, and was invented by Dow Chemical. It’s so prevalent that I don’t even see it anymore. The cop said that if it’s a tattoo it apparently means that someone is HIV positive. But maybe just where he’s from.
• The cop also mentioned a scorpion, which also apparently means HIV positive. But maybe just where he’s from. Elsewhere, I imagine that there must be a gang that uses a scorpion and the last thing they’re thinking of is HIV.
• Anyway, he also mentioned diamond tats, a number of them, diamonds in the shape of the “diamonds” on playing cards. Who knows what any of that means? I’ve not heard nor seen any explanation. Anyone?

After this conversation, I spoke with a prisoner, and he said that, in his area, again in an entirely different area of these USA, those kinds of tats did not have anything to do with HIV as far as he knew. And if they did, one would immediately want to make a distinction with how it is that someone came to have HIV. For instance a druggy “lifestyle” using used needles isn’t necessarily the same as an “alternative lifestyle.”

I rarely ask people about their tattoos. But I do. I would if I saw tear drops, which can reference even a number of murders. I asked a guy who stopped in front of the rectory asking for directions about his full body tattoos that reminded me of MS-13. He was fearful of letting his tats be seen, even wearing one of those girly shirts with the ultra-long-sleeves that are tied around the thumbs so as to cover the hands. But the tats spilled out onto his fingers and up his neck and face.

• Do I have any tattoos? No. I did get my hand stamped with red ink at the county fair in my home town as a kid saying I paid some sort of entrance fee. I also got an ultraviolet stamp on my hand while visiting my Shadow at a maximum security prison in Mexico, you know, to make sure it was me on the way out, since we look like each other and are the same age. But I digress…
• Was I ever tempted to get any tattoos? Someone said I might be entitled to get a pair of green feet on my bum out of thanksgiving for services rendered by the great PJs. However, that tradition in honor of those utterly unique first tier operators would surely not be inclusive of preventative measures provided by their overwhelming accompaniment of yours truly, right? The immediacy of a critical incident was not evident. So, no. I didn’t do it.

I discovered trying to do up fingerprints recently for NC-SBI and FBI background checks for getting my concealed carry with the sheriff that my “natural tattoos” (fingerprints) are pretty much worn away. I guess I’m older than I was at one time…

The only real imprint you’ll find with me is the permanent character of the sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation, and Holy Orders while I hope that, as Saint Paul says, any sanctifying grace will turn to glory forever in heaven. We’re already “branded”, if you will, for our Lord by our Lord. By this time it’s not something that covers over but the Most Holy Trinity shining out.