As a child, I rarely saw a prison except on television. Now, I see them more often and in the most populous of areas—beside a strip mall or industrial park or along the highway.  The modern prison is not the gothic stone façade projecting doom and despair.  Now they are bland, dull buildings with a modicum of razor wire and very thin, unbreakable windows.  They blend into the background of the surrounding communities like schools and the DMV.   Still, I shudder at the sight of them, not so much because I fear escapees, but rather because I fear the bureaucracy of the prison system itself.