New Statement from Anti-Fascist Political Prisoner Matthew "Rampage" Lamont

For more information, contact Jennifer Lamont <jlamont187@yahoo.com>

June 11th, 2006

New Statement from Anti-Fascist Political Prisoner Matthew "Rampage" Lamont

A lot of people have been talking about the "Patriot Act", NSA, FBI sweeps, etc. Lately, for a certain chosen few, we've faced their realities. Of the few that have told their stories and made their statements, I have not. So today I've decided to do so.
Right now I sit in a prison cell in AD-SEG (the hole) in a 7 x 10 space. The wall beside my bunk is covered in photos of my wife and I in our happiest moments in the outside world. On the rare occasions I leave my cell I'm handcuffed through the tray slot and escorted until I'm securely behind a door again and then my cuffs are unlocked once again through the slot. Usually, these are the hour visits I get on Sunday with my wife. I remember a time when we wouldn't even spend an hour away from each other. So, how did I get here?

My name is Matthew Lamont. My family calls me Matt. My homies, friends, and comrades call me Rampage. It's a name from a wild and radical youth. I was imprisoned for three years for allegedly trying to plant a "destructive device" at a gathering of neo-nazis from Aryan Nation celebrating Hitler's birthday. The arrest stemmed from a campaign of harassment arrests in Long Beach against activists, anarchists, and other radicals. I was released over a year ago. Prison life was not easy. I wasn't a CEO of Enron or Martha Stewart. I went through maximum security California State Prisons. Life was hell for my three years. However, I paroled in one piece.

When I was released I had lost everything. The anarchists and activists I knew in Long Beach left the movement in fear that they would be imprisoned, I knew nobody. I was taken in by my family. From there I tried to piece together my life little by little and adjust to the outside world. I searched endlessly for a job without success due to my felony background. Finally, I found one at a cell phone booth selling cell phone contracts and phones. Meanwhile, I found a younger generation of activists and revolutionaries trying to make a difference in this post 9/11 environment. I did my best to guide them away from the pitfalls and mistakes my generation made before I served time. Things were going alright. However, the company I worked for decided they didn't want to pay me my commission , so fired me on the basis that I was a felon, even though I marked on the application and explained verbally to management that I was a felon. I ended up taking them to Labor Board and getting a small portion of what they owed me. I was angry, but still determined to try to succeed in making a life for myself. I ended up taking my G.E.D. so at least I'd have a High School diploma. I put up a resume on the internet and hit the street in search of a job.

I was finally hired at a mortgage company in a boiler room type telemarketing division. It was probably the last job I would ever want to do at the time, but nobody else would hire me. While I worked my butt off there I kept pushing the activist, revolutionary, and anarchist movements. I was determined to bring these radical ideas to the prisoners I left behind. Likewise I was determined to bring to attention the injustice I had seen and felt while behind those walls. It was for these reasons that I was identified as a threat.

In this movement I started dating a womyn relatively new to the movement, but dedicated with her heart and soul. I ended up getting her a job at my work as well. I did my job at work like I do my politics. I was dedicated and persistent. Someone finally gave me a chance, so I was damned if I let them down. I hustled on the phone calling 200 people a day. Soon I was the top salesperson on the floor. I started making good money in commission, and had paychecks I never thought I'd make. At Hart Park in Orange County during an activist friend's birthday I proposed to the womyn I was dating, Jennifer Phillips. She accepted my proposal. On July 21st, 2005 we were married.

From that point, to the day of my arrest, were the happiest days of my life. I continued to work my butt off telemarketing. Jen and I got our first new apartment. We never left each other's side. We even worked next to each other. Soon my wife took top producer from me and we had a friendly competition at work. Soon we even made enough money to buy a brand new car. These are the things I never even dreamed of accomplishing in life. To some people it waz nothing. To some people it might even have been materialistic, but these are people who have no clue what it's like to be a felon scavenging for a job desperate for money. To me, I was on top of the world.

However, my wife and I didn't forget our beliefs. Nor did I forget my past. I was inspired after reading Lorenzo Kemboa Ervin to start study groups in prison. I gathered several names and addresses to get these study groups going. I was determined to bring these groups to reality. My wife, Jen, was even more determined. She went out and raised money to get this going. Meanwhile at my workplace I was promoted to being a loan officer. I was no longer a telemarketer! My family was proud. Nobody could believe it. Only a little over a year before I was in a security housing unit! However, fortune wasn't waiting at the end of this rainbow.

February 23rd, 2006 a day after my promotion, I was asked to step out in the hallway at my work. Two plainclothes detectives flashed their badges and asked if I was Matthew Lamont. I stated I was. They told me to turn around and handcuffed me.

When I asked why I was being arrested they said, "we are small fish in a big pond". I guess I was the fish food. They took me to a white SUV outside and drove to my car.

They then went through my car with several other unidentified people in plainclothes who met them there. They took my wife's folder for class as evidence- "we got propaganda in the vehicle", they said. This smoking gun was a picture of a fist inside a feminist symbol on the front of the folder. While I sat confused watching my world fall apart the FBI and the Special Services Unit (a intelligence unit in the parole department that works closely with the FBI) raided my apartment. They ransacked the place and took anything remotely political into evidence. Anti-Bush posters, anti-war posters, flyers, political pamphlets, a letter from a prisoner, and a list of prisoners to be sent books. They took my computer and my cell phone as well. I was then taken to the Police substation. After a hour, I was given my phone calls. I still had no clue why I was under arrest. I called my distressed wife. Jen arrived at the apartment to find it torn to bits. She was crying and scared. She said she didn't feel safe anymore.

Of course this is what the FBI wanted from us, fear. After a while, a special agent from the SSU came to me. I told my wife that I'd call back. He identified himself as Special Agent Slaten from the SSU. He told me he had some questions for me. He questioned me first in length about my involvement in the anarchist movement. He apparently "intercepted" a postcard my wife sent to someone saying that we just came back from a meeting in Big Bear. He wanted to know what group was meeting.

Of course that's none of his bizness. He then asked if I knew anyone who wanted to blow up the Big Bear Dam. I told him that he couldn't be serious. He said he waz serious. I told 'em I didn't. He then shifted questions to asking if I knew certain members of the Black Guerrilla Family. I told 'em I didn't. He asked why members of the B.G.F. written on a paper with their prison addresses. This was my list of prisoners I wanted to send books to. He then asked if I knew anyone who wanted to blow up buildings. I asked if he was seriously asking me these questions, and once again he claimed he was. I told 'em no. He finally told me that I committed no crime, but they wanted to investigate me so they were going to violate my parole and send me back to prison so that they got time to do so. I told 'em I did nothing wrong and he said he'd check into it.

The next day I was sent to Chino State Prison. I was thrown in the hole here because I was under "local, state, and federal" investigation. I was informed that I was suspect of some vague bomb plot. I was later let out of the hole because the FBI never sent any paperwork to the warden on what exactly the investigation was about. Next my company called my wife. They asked me if I was arrested for anything to do with fraud or identity theft. Apparently the FBI decided taking my freedom wasn't enough. They needed to sabotage my career, my future, and my character.

I eventually was given my time for my violation. I was charged with possession of a knife for having a multi-tool on my computer desk, and going outside my parole region for going to Big Bear. The gang association charge was dropped on lack of evidence. This charge was for the book to prisoner list. In May, my parole officer called my parents thinking I'd been released. My mom talked to her. The PO told her I was violated for having literature in a box in a closet which was my property sent from prison a year ago. She also said that when I get out I'd be no longer able to work a job in mortgage sales or dealing with anyone's information. She also said I'd not be allowed to touch a computer. My mom yelled at her that I did nothing wrong and that I worked six days a week ten hours a day. She told her how sick she was of them trying to destroy her son's life. I'm back in the hole right now because Neo-Nazis attacked the Blacks and the Blacks defended themselves. They said I helped defend against these racists. Of course they let the racists off with nothing. They extended my release date instead.

So here I am at Chino State Prison. Just yesterday I had escaped the world of steel, concrete, and misery to become a success and be happily married, only to be brought back to hell. My life outside is barely hanging on. My wife, Jen Lamont is trying to struggle to make the bills working full time and getting a second job. She is trying to keep a roof over her head and something for me to come home to. The federal investigation proved fruitless and they moved on temporarily, probably to harass some other poor soul. I just want my life back. I want to be reunited with my wife and left alone. I don't understand how we can bomb another country to "free its people" when our own government is kicking down our doors for believing in change. Imprisoning us for wanting to send prisoners books. Today it's me. I'm an easy target. I'm an ex-convict. I'm on parole. I've got a prior felony for an explosive. The perfect picture of a suspected terrorist. Tomorrow it's you. A political activist, a radical, a subversive political dissident. We must stand together to survive, or fall like dominoes as the believers in fascism in our government consolidate power and implement a police state never before seen in Amerikkka. Your freedom, like mine, will be just a memory.