Knife, Tinder, Spark

I hate vegans because they come at me with what THEY believe I should be.

They don't ask: "Who are you? What do you do in this world?"

Instead, they attack like ravenous meat eaters at the top of the food chain failing to notice we are kin: skin, flesh, bone, spirit...

They seem to believe they come from a high holy consciousness, so holy that the whole spirit world comes down and kneels before them because they are the one true god or goddess by the simplest means of dietary choice.

The holy people I know and have known are humble, not arrogant. They KNOW we are all sacred, they are more connected and they usually EAT MEAT!

This...is an example.

...an example of how we fight amongst each other.

Put auto pilot on bullshit and attack the immediate.

Empire likes this. I would say empire designed it that way.

Good we fight amonst each other in our sufficient safety and not go after the source (see "Storm the Bastille").

Change the word "vegan" to whatever human group, the word "I" to you, and you just might see what I'm sayin'.

We here at the bottom are doing the work of empire when we beat ourselves or each other up.

Empire doesn't have to do the work. We are safe and it is safer to beat each other up than to organize and fight empire.

And what is empire made of, other than our fellow human beings who've organized well enough to threaten folks into submission in order to steal everything for themselves. We have become so afraid they don't even have to threaten our safety to control us...we do it for them.

This...we call freedom.

I don't blame you all, we were designed this way. Many of us have chosen to break from that mold and question our allegations of freedom.

Coyote took stone knives into the body of the monster serpent that swallowed him. He lit fires in him to let all the creatures the monster swallowed escape. He went to the heart of the monster and cut it with his stone knives killing the beast.

Although the monster convinces us we haven't been eaten, we have indeed been swallowed up. I offer you and me and all of us imaginary stone knives, tinder, and spark.

I will think good thoughts for you and ask that you think good thoughts for me.

May one, some, or all of us find the heart of the monster and kill the beast before it destroys the world.

PS It's destruction may be on auto-pilot.

Many Posts

I just want you all to know, I have many things to post, but little time currently in which to do so. So expect things forthcoming, most likely a few things at a time once I have time to sit down here and do it. Thanks for your patience.

PS...Rhonda, You are so AWESOME!

Storm the Bastille?

I really Love my fellow human beings. I see from my safe place that I would Love to really get out and fight for them. Sometimes I think of doing something all by myself, but realize that the system will probably use that as an excuse to murder more of my fellow human beings. So, like I told Felicia on Thursday when we went shooting together and I forced her to listen to Howard Zinn lecture; "I am planting seeds. Someday you will be touched by a spark and you will remember something that was said or you heard from me, some sort of connection and it will light a fire in your soul." Felicia's mother is very mainstream, white bread, if you will. So Felicia doesn't like doing things like seeing fantastic people lecture or hearing them on CD's or reading books or anything like her father does. I expose her to things that her mother would never even think of. I discuss issues with her honestly, like sex, that her mother would never think of. And that is what I try to do with you all. I don't believe we will ever storm the Bastille, as it were, but I hope I am planting the seeds of Revolution in your soul because the world as I see it isn't all that pretty. People are suffering, like nurses and patients, so a handful of people can have close to EVERYTHING. We here at the bottom, as it were, use the tools empire has forced down our throats (racism, sexism, capitalism, identity politics, etc.), to fight amongst ourselves instead of direct our fight energies against those that truly deserve it. Maybe somewhere down the line, maybe never, someone or someones will feel some sort of fire, not necessarily started by a seed I planted, but maybe amongst a grouping of seeds, and things will grow in their soul and something may actually get done to change the world for the better. It just makes more sense to me if we all got together and used our fight energies against those that truly deserve than against each other. Feh! Who the hell knows what is really going to happen, eh? In some ways, though, it is truly...TRULY...exciting to be alive during this crazy and wild time in this world's long and wonderful history.

"...Throw All the Ingredients Into the Bowl and Mix."

I am a mixed-blood. I have ancestry from many nations: Alsea, Klickitat, Lower Umpqua, Finnish, English, Dutch, Scots, and Irish. Although I am half white, no one asks me about my whiteness because I "look" Indian. People have asked me about my whiteness but only after I told them the above and ONLY as a joke. I have NEVER been mistaken for white. However, if you saw my naked belly (which you probably never will) or my naked ass (which you never will), you will realized that indeed, I am part white.

I've been thinking about mixed bloodness all day. How racism is thrown at mixed bloods from all sides. The stories I've heard from people I knew that were Indian and white and how their Indian folks refused to accept them because they were part white and how whitey refused to accept them because they were part Indian. I've been thinking about what my sweetie, Rhonda, goes through. I've been thinking about what Felicia goes through. Too white to be Indian, too Indian to be white.

I'm sure you all have seen "Braveheart," that Mel (Rot In Hell) Gibson made about William Wallace in 13th century Scotland. I'm sure you remember the scene after the king reintroduced the law that stated noblemen get to rape Scots women on the day of their wedding. Why? Do you remember what the king said? It was something like: If we can't destroy them as a people, we'll breed it out of them.

In my self-educated opinion, mixed blood as "race" is by design. There is a BIA (Bureau of Indian Affairs) document that states: stick to the 1/4 blood quantum, encourage intermarriage, and we'll breed the Indians out of existence and thus solve our "persistent Indian problem." Mixed bloodness is by empirical design that has existed long before Euro's came here and started doing it to us Indians. Mixed bloods are "designed" to be the people they are today. People who are torn but more often than not pulled to an indigenous pathway. Many mixed bloods are lost. And there is a reason for this. It was done by a eugenics lie. It is a design and tool of empire in my opinion. And mixed bloods WILL get shit from all sides.

Mixed bloods in the Indian world aren't Indian enough to be Indian nor white enough to be white. They never belong. It is more liberal today, than say 30 years ago, and the darker folks are more accepting (at least in Indian country) of mixed bloods now than they were. They are, indeed, still racist against mixed bloods.

I have seen and/or heard of the same shit happening in Black and Asian communities. I'm sure it happens in most communities.

I was talking with a friend of mine about this. She has a neice and nephew by the same parents; a Hispanic father and white mother. She worries that these kids "will" to through getting shit from ALL sides. They will find acceptance amongst some folks for sure, but somewhere at sometime, people from all sides will give them shit. You are not dark enough to be Hispanic, not white enough to be white. The other issue here is, that the neice can pass for white.

I believe, and we can discuss this here or not because it is going to be something that eats at me for a while, is that "mixed race" is created by imperical design. It is a tool in order to create a lack of unity amongst a people to the point where they can organize and fight back effectively against empire. Fact is, though, folks, we are all mixed. There is no such thing as "racial purity." There never has been, there never will be. But NOT ONLY will empire beat us to f***ing death with our various races, we will too. Empire has "designed" us to fight amongst each other so they don't have to do their own dirty work.

Take this same pattern, and you can overlay it on sexism, classism, and many other isms I'm sure. We have been "designed" to fight amongst ourselves, "mixed blood" being part of that design.

This doesn't happen so much to me because people don't get to see my white belly or white ass. As well, I'm probably about the darkest Indian in my family. Racism has so many different facets it's like a crystal that hangs in a window. Not only do you get the various sparkly faces of the jewel, but it shoots off all sorts of colors all over the room.

All Kindsa Hammers

Get a hammer, then REALLY get hammered. Two great? tastes that don't sound like they go so great together. [Taken at Cascade Locks, Oregon]

Darn Tootin Shootin

I took Felicia out shootin', today. I got two deer, she got one.

We went into the Lava Beds of the Gifford Pinchot. It is a place I don't recall having been to before, but wasn't as amazed by it as I am other parts of the Giff. There were lots of campers there, it being a Thursday was pretty amazing the amount of campers.

We drove all the way to Goose Lake, in the Northern part of the Lava Beds. There were old stumps coming out of it. I don't know the story about that.

I also took pictures of Felicia on top of an old stump by the lake.

I have on loan to her my old Nikon. I told her she has to earn it. To earn it she has to show me at least four photos she has taken, more if she wants, every time she comes over to visit, otherwise I WILL TAKE IT BACK. She HAS to do this for at least two months. There are reasons for this, but I won't go into them here.

All in all, it was a fun and good journey. Hey, we got two deer!

Psychological Effects

Rhonda and I got to talking about the psychological effects of genocide through a recounting of some of her personal family history. It took me a while to remember his name, but Clifford Allen of the Nez Perce has done some work around this issue. I think it is a good time to try to get a hold of him again.

Anyway, both Rhonda's and my family have suffered greatly under alcoholism. We have lost many good people to this stuff. Don't give me the personal resposibility lecture especially since the U.S. doesn't take responsibility for any of its numerous genocides nor do most of you folks take responsibility for your racism. Alcholoism is one of the many medications used to deal with the destruction we have and currently face.

So now, the U.S. is creating such great damage in the Middle East that the effects if they stopped right now would be felt for CENTURIES. Centuries from now it would still be hurting the people. And the U.S. is about to do it to Iran, and I'd say a majority of folks are or will just turn their backs. The slaughter doesn't end when the bullets stop flying. And the U.S., in staying with its regular genocidal pattern, will blame the victim and will also blame the victim for the medications they choose in order to numb the persistent genocidal pain.

The U.S. is very knowledgeable and creative about its destruction of entire peoples. They've been doing it for so damned long. Here are some kids who will be damaged the rest of their lives and their kids will be damaged by this and their grand kids and so on.

Feelin' the fight, yet?

Photographers...?

Photographers are a buncha flippin' WEIRDOS!

Details About Downtown Portland I Never Noticed Until I Got a Camera

Crystals

My friend and co-producer of "Native Nations," Kelly Labonte (sp?) owns and runs a crystal stand at Saturday Market in downtown Portland, on the weekends, of course. She asked if I could take a few pictures for her to send out to various places for her to sell. I liked these ones in particular, but undoubtedly could do a more professional job, as it were. But, here you go!

GET UP!: A Fight Poem

GET UP!

GET OFF YOUR KNEES!
PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!
LIVE ON YOUR FEET!
CELEBRATE ON YOUR FEET!
FIGHT ON YOUR FEET!
DIE ON YOUR FEET!

My one armed
never over five feet tall grandma
screamed in a bar fight:

"GET UP!
GET UP!
YOU WANT SOME MORE!
GET UP!"

Saul Williams screams in a poem:


"WHAT HAVE YOU BOUGHT INTO
HOW MUCH WILL IT COST TO BUY YOU OUT?!
WHAT HAVE YOU BOUGHT INTO
HOW MUCH WILL IT COST TO BUY YOU OUT?!
WHAT HAVE YOU BOUGHT INTO
HOW MUCH WILL IT COST TO BUY YOU OUT?!"

We are safe
and our fears are meant to be faced

Face your fears
get off your knees
before the king

Live on your feet!
Celebrate on your feet!
Fight on your feet!
Die on your feet!

"GET UP!"

"WHAT HAVE YOU BOUGHT INTO
HOW MUCH WILL IT COST TO BUY YOU OUT?!"

Find your fight...
you're gonna need it.

Beacon Rock, Skamania County, Washington

BEAUTY AND HELL

Healing is a word I can use
to describe my journey from abuse.

Bigger words
I wish could be found
for to those chains
I am no longer bound.

[Beacon Rock and High Bridge are not only a few of the most beautiful places in the world, they are also associated with the verbal abuse I suffered under my previous wife. She would scream so loud and in my face she would often be spitting on me. "I could just HIT you!" and "Sometimes I wanna KILL you!" were words often heard from her by me about the last years I was with her. That view to Beacon Rock on those picnic tables is where it happened about a quarter of the time as part of the daily attacks. It was a semi-peace zone. She also told me I was good looking, but it was hard to believe because no one that I knew of treated a lover they thought as good looking as she did me. And then, one day, I came to my senses with the help of my wonderful daughter, Felicia, and I left, never to return.

Felicia and I visited these places that summer. All the places where we were both abused and amazed by the Beauty of our surroundings. I wanted to enjoy these places without the psychological or verbal attacks with my daughter who was also verbally abused and still suffers from it.

And then along comes Rhonda, who was, sadly, at work yesterday. But in a way, I guess this was a journey I needed to do on my own. A little washing away and cleaning of old wounds. But yet, so much more, as I am reminded of the Beauty that surrounds me and the Beauty that is Rhonda, my sweetie, Felicia, my daughter, and so many of my fellow human beings.]

High Bridge, Carson, Washington

This bridge, High Bridge, out of Carson, Washington.

Before Rhonda and I met, I was living with my friend, Heidi. We were heading to Angel Falls in the Giff. As we drove across the bridge, I got somewhat nostalgic as I had crossed that bridge many times previously. "I've always wanted to walk across that bridge," I told Heidi. She slammed on her breaks and pulled over to the side of the road just on the other side and said, "OK." We walked across, and I could sweat that it was the first time. It cured me of my fear of heights, although I was absolutely terrified at the time. I decided then that some day I would do a photo shoot of this bridge. Some of the photos are through the drain holes. A couple looking directly over and a few down at the Wind River. The two over the rail shots that you can see gerters on, I got a bit nervous as I didn't pay attention to traffic and a big pick-up went whirring by and shook me. The rail is only about waist high.

A week or so after Heidi and I walked across, I regained some memories I wished I hadn't. I had walked across that bridge before...with my ex-wife. With her, she was in the middle of a verbal attack on me. Screaming and yelling and I wasn't happy. I wasn't happy at all. But in dealing somewhat with that monster on this trip, I strongly realize that the damage from that relationship is in the past. It was healing for me. And this journey was quite enjoyable.

LUNCHTIME!

Osprey would make good Indians as much as they Love fish...River Indians that is!

I LOVE MY NEW CAMERA!

Cruelty

Rhonda and I watched about 2/3 of "Beloved" last night before we got too tired and had to go to bed.

I must say that the history of this nations alleged greatness comes on the back of such amazing cruelty...the stealing of other peoples freedom. Of course, the stealing of other peoples freedom to create someone else's freedom is not freedom at all, but privilege. This privilege is criminal and immoral.

The whippings, lynchings, murders, massacres, smallpox blankets, etc., have all taken on different forms today. Some kinder and gentler, others just as cruel.

The kinder gentler cruelty, if you will (because it isn't really all that kind or gentle), can be seen in academia. As has been discussed here about Ward Churchill, what Prof Black Woman and Chanda have got through, what my friend Jim Craven goes though (constant challenges to his tenure to where he has fighting back down to a science). Could you imagine if our "free thinkers" were actually allowed the freedom to think instead of being forced and coerced into propping up the status quo.

And of course, the lynching, murders, massacres stuff still exists. What do you think is happening in Iraq and Afghanistan? How do you think the U.S. creates the willingness of other nations to just give up their resources? That's right! ABSOLUTE CRUELTY! The willingness to do amazingly horrific things, and in many cases actually doing them, in order to steal other peoples resources to prop up the elite and the status quo IS NOT FREEDOM. In fact it's a crime. This, we are porpagandized to believe as "freedom."

If I put a gun to your head, would that be freedom? If I told you that your intellect can be only used to prop up the status quo, would that be freedom? If I raped your children for speaking their own language, would that be freedom? America has one f***ed up sense of freedom. In fact, American alleged freedom comes with a cruel cost to others, mostly unseen by "americans." Those that are seen are reasoned away. Cruelty to others is the price paid for the privilege america enjoys.

Yesterday, I saw a flag waving party for the killer arm of the U.S. government. A bunch of soldiers all lined up ready to kill for the ultra elite, ready to kill to help maintain the status quo. Of course, they won't benefit from that as we all have seen George cutting off all their benefits piece by piece to the troops he wants us to support but won't support himself. And it amazes me, all these people who won't do their own killing, heaping great praise on those that will so they don't have to. That is privilege.

I have more compassion for the soldiers than I do the rank or U.S. government. I have the least amount of love and compassion for the flag waving bastards who refuse to do their own killing lining the streets to heap great praise on the killer arm of the U.S. government. I repeat: "Never support a war you are not willing to take up arms in and fight in yourself because you are asking others to do your killing for you."

Cruelty...it's what makes america great.

It's A Camera!

This is my new toy. I'm gonna spend my lag time at work today figuring this sweet thing out instead of cat nappin'. So you can expect brighter, clearer, pictures of my sweetie, Rhonda. Maybe a few other folks and other things as well.

By the way...excellent coffee cake this morning, Sweetie! If I had my new camera figured, I'da taken a picture.

I have a few photo shoots planned for Sunday, so be prepared. I told Rhonda about them, but I'll surprise you all!

Dang! Rhonda! You are so Beautiful!