"She Had Limited Value"

 "Yeah, just write a cheque, hahahaha. Eleven thousand dollars, she was twenty-six anyway, she had limited value." This is what a police officer, Daniel Auderer, said to his colleague over the phone about a Woman being killed at a crosswalk by a cop doing 75 miles an hour in a 25 mile an hour zone. He is now defending his words by saying it was out of context, and he was making fun of the way a lawyer would portray what took place. 

Holy fork in a butchered wild boar of a twist. It is the way it is, we can not trust what we hear, what we see and what touch. There is always going to be the ugly which is painted into an abstract, impressionist version of what it is (what is the rule of ending with a stranded preposition). We see the ugly but the colouring provides us with a new, or skewed or creative picture of the situation. In this case the cop is really attempted to be Pablo Picasso and paint a version we can accept as being true, even if it is warped. 

I know a guy, actually a few guys, who lied all the time. They said "never admit, no matter what." This is exactly the culture of police. They do such horrible shit, it oozes from their breaths. In Vancouver, British Columbia the cops denied being told there was serial killer hunting Women. They painted a story of lies to cover up their bias, their racism, their laziness, their incompetence. It took years to finally catch a killer who was known. An inquiry to their mistakes was called to see what happened and why. The police hired a multitude of lawyers as paint coveralls. The inquiry was an exercise in police excuses, reasons and a game of hide and seek. Regardless of their denials, the Inquiry exposed them for what they are, racist lazy incompetents who have no care. In other words they are scumbags, arseholes. 

Seattle laughing cop   --        Jaahnavi Kandula 23

North American society has a real police problem. There are many psychopaths wearing badges and carrying guns. They have little or no empathy, are deceitful, aggressive and don't give a fuck about anyone. 

So what will happen to the laughing cop, he has already made up an excuse. If he is disciplined by the upper-cop-bosses, the guy will have his police mafia take up for him. Him and all his little cop buddies are going to paint a new fiction, where he comes out of it like a victim, maybe a hero for his fellow dicks. 

At the end of the day, there can be no redemption for this piece of decaying flesh. He is really an indication of how truly ugly the police are. So fuck him and anyone else who wears the badge and gun. Power mad psychos. 

What's In It For Me

Nozhis sanding cane. 

Can sent to NZ

I started making Diamond Willow about 8 years ago. I didn't know what the heck I was doing or what Diamond Willow looked like. It was a learning process. So now I find some pretty interesting looking sticks. Some have a lot of character in them. All I do is cut them, sand and stain them. Wish I had carving talent but nope, it is not there. Some of them have actually turned out quite nice. I kind of get proud of them. It makes feel good to make them. I have Noozhis help me with the sticks, either sanding, painting, adding some mementos and staining them. We gave out every stick we even made. Didn't make them for money. 

This weekend, I went and traded six walking sticks at Global Connections. Global Connections is one of those gift shops where goods are from "Global South" countries. Not to be mistaken with the Fair Trade stores. I thought they were, but find they are not. Anyways, I had twelve sticks and thought, "maybe I'll trade them for some stuff for my grandkids." So I contacted the owner of the store and went to show him the sticks. He didn't even really look at the sticks. Offered me $120 store credit. I took $140 store credit. So my grandkids can go get some items like rock jewelry and what ever. The owner's sticks are nice, made in China. Mine are filled with imperfections, bark still on in some places and cracks on the wood. So it was a fair trade. 

I didn't feel good after I left the store. Not that he treated me wrong, but I didn't get the same feeling I get when I give the sticks away. I admit, I bask in the gratitude of gift giving. It makes me feel good. The fact I made someone happy makes me feel damn good. Like, I changed the world good. Trading the sticks, all I got was regret. It was nothing but a monetary exchange. The fellow didn't see any joy in the sticks. So will not be selling or trading sticks again. There was an absence of joy. 

What's in it for me? Do we think like that? I don't know if it is a conscious thought for people. Me, I like stuff and that is for sure. I also like to give stuff. My in-laws are people like that, they are generous. My Dad, my brother Pancho, they always gave away stuff. If they did sell something, it was always at a low cost for the buyer. I remember I got a hat for my Dad on one of my travels. It was a P-cap (baseball style caps) with some beading on it. It was pretty nice. My Dad gave it to this guy in no time. I was upset but it was how my Dad was. Sure, like anyone he appreciated getting a gift but giving was just something he did. My sisters are like that as well (not all of them). My Mom would get upset with my brother Pancho because he would do the same thing as my Dad. Mom and Dad would give him something and then it was later given away or sold at a ridiculous low price. 

 It's the joy we bring and get by giving, that is what is in for me. 
Are we basically purchasing good feelings and good blessings. Is it a bad thing? I don't know. I do know not everyone appreciates a gift or a low cost for some things. There was this semi-famous Indigenous comic who didn't appreciate the cost of bead work goods.  The comic ordered some beadwork from a Woman. Apparently, there was an exchange of words between the two people about the beadwork. The comic blasted the Beader on social media, as the Beader had asked for a bit more cash for the items. The Beader realized the comic had no appreciation for the work. The comic stood firm on what the original cost was agreed to.  If there was any joy in the transaction it disappeared into resentments on both sides. 

What is in it for me?  It is about Joy. If there is no joy, then heck with it.  
 

I Like To Keep Stuff

 The only thing I enjoy more than drinking Earl Grey Tea, black and hot, is breathing air. Okay that's a little bit of a stretch but tea is a daily thing for me. So a tea pot is significant in my life. Or is it tea which is significant? 

My Teapot 

 This teapot was given to me years ago. My wife says it was a gift from my friend Sean. In any case I have used it for years. The teapot served me well. I would drink a pot of tea before noon, and drink two more pots by days end. I would not drink tea too late in the evening. Maybe by six in the afternoon, I would have my last cup for the day. Although there are occasions where I do have late night tea. Last week my grandkids were visiting with me and we were at the table. I picked up the teapot to pour myself a cup and didn't you know it, I dropped it on the table and it bounced onto the floor. The handle broke off. I was devastated. Still, it's only a teapot. Teapots are everywhere, just need to go to a thrift shop or one of those big box stores, like moldy-old-Wallies, aka Walton family billionaire (Walmart) shop.  So why does it bother me, that the teapot is broken. I still have it and am still considering what to do with it. Should I get the handle welded back on? I mean, I have a very nice new one, a metal one as well. It was a gift from my sister-in-law. I have used it sparingly so far. So why even keep the old pot. I was thinking I could hang it outside as a bird house. 

Why do we decide to keep stuff? We collect, we buy stuff, we hoard stuff and we cherish some stuff. It's just stuff, right? 

Some things we do cherish for sure. I have a rock in my Medicine Bundle. The rock is about the size of a baseball. It is black and white and elongated. Nothing extraordinary in it is a rock, picked up from the river banks of the Squamish area in British Columbia. The rock was picked up by my six year old daughter and given to me. What could I do, just toss it? No it means something, now. So somethings have meaning and we keep them. Somethings still have meaning and we get rid of it, go figure, eh? We lived in a nice house, the first house we purchased. We sold it after a few years. We have gone through many vehicles in our lives. I really like knives but I have given so many knives away as well. So there is no real pattern or rationale to what we keep and what we can discard.  We have given away plenty of Native art works, beaded items, carved items, walking sticks, clothes, and a few vehicles (not new of course but still good). I have literally taken off my coat and given it away. Haven't done the shoes off my feet, but know some people have done that. I have given shoes away as well numerous times and purchased shoes for folks.

It may sound like I'm just boasting about being generous, maybe I am a bit, but it's more about what we as a people are forgetting. As Indigenous folk we did not really acquire a lot of stuff. Colonialism, private ownership and capitalism sure did a good trick on us. Look at the way Settlers came here and just claimed everything, took everything and still want everything. It's was the best trick settlers - colonialists did to the world; to get people to be greedy and think it was alright. Oh, before I go on about keeping stuff and my tea pot, let me tell you about Cardinal Sin. No, not that sin; pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth. It's the other sin, tea in a coffee pot. It is when someone uses a pot, kettle that has been used for coffee in the past and now uses it for tea. I can't stand this. What is worse, a lot of restaurants, Caterers make this horrible mistake. It is unforgiveable to a tea drinker. Can you taste it right now, the bitter taste of coffee mixed with the beauty of tea. Coffee, black of course, is no doubt a delight, but you don't mix sugar with potassium chloride. You just don't, unless you want things to explode. Mixing a coffee used vessel to carry tea is a sinking boat. Get off it right now. 

Getting back to keeping stuff. A neighbor of my daughters died a while back. She used to see him hanging his laundry outside. He kept to himself,  was old, his house was decrepit, his yard was disheveled, he hoarded things. Some of his habits were predicable and he would always take his clothes in after the day. My daughter phoned me one day and said she noticed he hadn't been taking his clothes in, she hadn't seen outside and his light was left on. She phoned non-emergency to ask for a wellness check on him. Fire department came, and went. Said "no answer at the door and they can't go in." Well it went on for a time, a couple of weeks and my daughter phoned again. One day the city came and was cleaning his yard and mowing the grass. They were asked if anything happened to the old man. They couldn't comment on him, but said "don't expect to be seeing him soon." Don't hoard stuff, you can't take it with you, or maybe you can? I know people who provide gifts to people when they die and it's for their journey. Who knows if we can take things when we go, not literally but maybe in some kind of symbolic or metaphysical way. 

You know who I think maybe on to something, it is those Minimalists. There are many benefits to those Minimalism living. I like stuff, so fuck those minimalists. If I can't have stuff, what is the point of giving it away. I like stuff and I enjoy giving it away. But maybe I can let some of those underwear I have, those ones with the weak elastics. 

Garth Brooks, The Dance Video? John Wayne WTF?

 I was zipping through channels and there was a Video of Garth Brooks speaking about his song the Dance: "At the opening of the music video, Brooks explains that the song is written with a double meaning - both as a love song about the end of a passionate relationship, and a story of someone dying because of something he believes in, after a moment of gory." In the video there are images of Lane Frost, a Bull Rider killed by a Bull. Keith Whitley, killed by drinking too much booze. 1998 Space Challenger Crew who were blown to nothing but burnt and decaying flesh (They did search and found remains of bodies). Martin Luther King Jr. who was shot and killed by a J.E. Ray (but could have been President Hover and his gang, so they say). John F. Kennedy was shot by Lee Harvey Oswald (we don't know who got him to do it). Finally, we have John Wayne, notorious white supremacist and actor who killed a million Indians on film. These are the folks Garth Brooks had in his video to show his double meaning of the end of a love and dying for something you lived for. 

I can see it, I mean Martin Luther King Jr. was working hard at a cause of civil rights but was murdered. He did indeed die for what he believed in. Lane was a Bull Rider, his work, and he died at work. John F Kennedy killed for being top boss. NASA crew, died at their job as well, blown up. Keith, he is the lyrics of a country song, dying drunk. John Wayne smoked his way to death, getting ate up with Cancer. I guess you can say, that him too, John Wayne died following his dream, of a heavy smoker. For me, the people in the video all resonate except for John, Keith, and the seven NASA crew. I mean sure it was awful for the crew but really who knew them before that? Were they icons? I guess, but name them and see if we don't have to look them up. Keith was a booze hound, and how many booze hounds die because of the drink. I think if that's the measurement, we should have had a real icon up there, like Bon Scott. Even Lane Frost, but there was a movie made about him, called 8 Seconds. I didn't bother to see it. Maybe I should have but it didn't excite me or interest me. Sure I like to watch a good Bull Ride just as much as the next person but I would rather watch a Korean crime drama. Yes, in terms of dying for your passion, the Seven NASA Crew did it. They should be in the video, because we will look them up on Google. But John Wayne? This is a stretch that even those Stretch Armstrong dolls wouldn't live up to.

 Since it was Garth Brooks' video, he could do the heck what he wanted and put whoever he wanted into his video. But - if it were me, I would go another way. Sure MLK Jr. is a good choice, same with JFK, (perhaps the Seven) it would play well for a certain crowd; the old, the Woke (maybe), and some of the USA chanters. Me, I would put Pound Make, Big Bear. These guys are dead for sure. Maybe they didn't die in a hail of bullets, but when they were alive they stood for something. So they would be good to show case their image in the Dance video. Another person I would put in the video is Elder Peter O'Chiese. There are many who believe Elder O'Chiese was instrumental in Traditional Ceremony being brought back to many Indigenous communities and people. This is significant because the Traditional belief structure and Indigenous identity suffered greatly under the crushing weight of colonialism, religious dogma, and main stream hatred. There are many people who could be in the Dance video if it were mine; Pauline Johnson-Tekohinwake, Sheila Watt-Cloutier, Kahentinetha Horn, Waneek Horn-Miller, Alanis Obomsawin, Tommy Prince, Graham Greene, but some of those folks are not dead. So there's that. 

And I don't think I would use the song the Dance. It is a nice song for sure, but there are many other better songs out there. So Long Marianne by Leonard Cohen fits pretty good for a love ending song. Now that I think about it, fuck Garth Brooks and his John Wayne. A better song would be Red Bull's Tearful Honour Song. Yeah, so let Garth have his Dance, I know who I would Dance with. How about you, who would be in your video of the Dance?  

My Dear Friends

 My Dear Friend: I remember the times I hurt you. There is no amount of remorse, regret and apologies which can make up for all the hurt, the unkind and mean words. The ugly gestures. I live a life to try and never repeat the ugliness but to make life as warm, kind and appreciative as can be. You are the best person to ever come into my life. 

My Dear Friend: Your friendship as a child has been wonderous. It is too bad I didn't appreciate how good life is with friends like you in it. 

My Dear Friend: I will come to your defense. You are covered. You are not alone. 

My Dear Friend: It was me, who let you down. I should have been a better friend. I should have stayed in touch. I should have reached out more.

My Dear Friend: You were mean to me. You were cruel to me. You hurt me. I forgave you. 

My Dear Friend: I was mean to you, I hurt you. I am truly sorry. 

My Dear Friend: You were there with knowledge. I took you for granted. I wasted your time. You had Teachings. I miss your Teachings, your words. 

My Dear Friend: I took you for granted. I regret my actions. 

My Dear Friend: Your laughter, your teasing, your jokes, your feelings shared.  I appreciate you. 

My Dear Friend: We didn't know each other for long, but knowing you was a good thing in my life. 

My Dear Friend: I think of you with a smile on my face. You are in a good place in my Heart. 

My Dear Friend: I miss you.

My Dear Friend: I do love you. 

My Dear Friend: There a number of you. Thank you.

Donovan 1985 - 2005 

I Ate A Puppy. I Helped Cook It.

Here's the thing, there is no doubt I have said ugly racist, misogynist, homophobic things in my life. Not only have I said horrible ugly things, but I have committed monstrous acts, property damage, theft, reckless behaviour and violence.  Heck, even eating a puppy was not beyond something I would have done. This is who I am, or at least who I was and it may not have been very long ago. The fact that my past has ugliness in it, is my fault. I wish I didn't do and say many a thing. It is those words, those actions which some folk only know us with. Some people will only know you as that mistake, that wrong choice. What can you do about it? It is truly the enlighten person who can say, "who gives a rat's ass," when considering other's view of you. I believe most people want to be liked. We want to have the approval of others to make us believe we are good people. The reality is, we have no business in other peoples' opinions. If they like us and view as a person worth knowing, that is awesome. If they don't like us, well, it might be hard to take but what are we going to do, give them money, bend over, so they like us? 

I have made the cardinal sin of giving a hoot about what people think about me. In a few cases it caused me to have real anxiety. I never knew anxiety was really a thing before. I heard people talk about anxiety and I just thought, "nervous?" I fell into the dark-deep-tunnel-of-despair some years ago. Since then, I have learned the meaning behind anxiety, anger, and depression. It is a place I don't recommend you to visit. However, the trip is most likely to be out of your control in any case. I have opinions, both in real time and on Earth and of course, opinions in the wired world of social media. With voicing, expressing and sharing your opinion, it is going to cause a reaction. Not all opinions receive a response, most and many are just ignored. There at times when you invest in the responses to your opinions and that is where it can be a mistake. It is there when we take in another person's opinion is when we can hurt ourselves. It is when we emotional invest in what other's think of us that is where we help cook the puppy. We start to fire, but they cook the puppy. We are then fed the puppy by listening to judgements, responses by them on our views and actions.  We listen, feel it and we then eat the puppy. 

I remember when I gave this inebriated guy a ride home, and he was says, "You're not an asshole. My mom says your an asshole." It was funny and kind of surprising. It was surprising because I don't believe I had really crossed paths with his Mom, but I knew who she was. Our community, aka Reserve, was not that huge. So I wondered what did I do to get her view on me.  Another time, my good buddy was telling me, "Hey, I mentioned your name at Anne's place and she really hates you. The hate was just visual. You could just see the hate to you." I was disappointed and felt bad, because I always thought I was cordial, if not nice to this Woman. That is the thing do, we don't have to always eat the puppy. They can feel how they want but you don't have to eat what they are cooking. There must be people we don't like as well. So what business  do we have trying to force a puppy meal on them. 

I have no business in people's opinion of me. Why is it my business to begin with? So you think I eat puppies and what if I did? What if I cooked it, while other's waited for it to be cooked, along with some corn, carrots in a dog stew? Would it be your business? Perhaps, but it's not my business if it is your business to be in my business, you dig? I have to understand if I'm going to open my mouth and spit things out, there is going to be someone out there who will want to feed me a puppy. But... it is my choice whether I eat the puppy or not. And believe me, I did eat puppy and I don't want to eat anymore. It tasted like wet dog. Since it was cooked with singed fur and that scorched taste wasn't appealing. 

So I think I will give the next cooked puppy a pass. If people want to feed me a puppy, good on them, but I don't feel it would be bad manners to not eat their puppy. 

Black Jesus Sent a Sign, and It Was a Hat Flip, and A Chair

 Damien Pickett is a co-Captain of a Riverboat in Montgomery, Alabama. Damien was trying to get a boat to move at a water dock, so the Riverboat, which was carrying 252 passengers could disembark. The passengers waited 45 minutes for the private boat to move. The owner(s) of the private boat did not want to move, instead they responded to the requests to movie with slurs, and obscene gestures. amien Pickett was adamant that the boat had to move and he expressed his frustration at the owners of the private boat.  It all came to ahead when one of the boat owners punched Damien Pickett. It was then the Hat-Flip occurred. Damien flipped his hat in the air and defended himself with punching back. It is important to note, Damien is a Black man, and the owners of the private boat are White folk. As Damien defended himself he was bombarded with a fury of White people punching him from all angles. Damien was pummeled with fists of fury from the White Hanks and Karen's.  From there you could see it: the Bonds of Slavery where being broken. Black people came running, came swimming to the aide of Damien. This was not going to be a scene from a Mandingo or Django movie, where the White Plantation owners get to whip their "n***rs." *Nope, there was a collective scream, "No more." Instead we see a page taken from the movie Exterminate All The Brutes.  Exterminate All The Brutes takes you on a journey of what Colonialism, Civilization, and Extermination was/is at the hands of White people. The crust of the movie is White Colonialism created the world mess and People are pushing back now. 

Image: IBYG_CRYPTO/Twitter

The fight, (brawl as the media has labeled it) between a group of White men, White Women, Black men, and Black Women has caused a media frenzy. Media is framing the brawl as a racial divide, a throwback to Civil Rights Struggles. Other's are saying it has nothing to do with race and it is a "one-off."  I have a huge penis and it is 14 inches long. Yeah, that's right, everyone can lie. The fight is a picture of how things are, for White people and Black people (and People of Color, People on the margins, Indigenous People, the Gay folk and their group). You see here, the White group, were exercising their privilege. They weren't going to move their god-damn boat as they have to right to do anything they want, as it was bestowed upon them at their birth, being white. Yes, being White has its privileges, like the feeling of "fuck off, I am white and you're just a nobody." 

People are charged about the fight, brawl, consequence and whatever you want to call it. The fight on the docks is a postcard from history. The relationship people have with each other is strained and rightfully so. White people carry the arrogance of superiority. It is seen everyday, with a White Police Officer kneeling on the neck of a Blackman, all the while knowing he is being watched as he slowly, painfully chokes the life out of the Blackman. It is the sitting Supreme Court Judge who is the "House-Tom" for the great white masters. It is the White President who can boldly call a whole continent filled with riches of History, Cultures, Treasures, People, and call it a "shit-hole." It is the white man who can shoot up a car filled with Black youth, for playing music and think he is in the right. It is the actor who can dress up in Black face at a Gala event because he thinks he has the privilege due to his Black Girl friend (at the time). 

Call the fight what you will, a brawl, a loving embrace, a cross burning, a toilet being overturned or a Dancing with the Stars. The thing is, it is a paradigm of relations between White colonialism, civilization and extermination, or as we know it, White Privilege. The fight had White people running to their bathrooms in a collective heap of bowel explosions; they were shitting themselves. The Boat-dock arse-kicking of White people is a wake-up. They (white folk) witnessed the boiled egg of white supremacy being cracked by a black hand. They see, in video, the challenge to their white privilege, and it is making them clutch their pearls and Rolexes (Oops, it should be Iphones and Apple Watches now). The fear is there, but still so is their arrogance of dominance. 

The Flip of the Hat was a sign, it was the bold middle finger to the status quo of society. Damien said it for everyone, "Fuck you and your little red wagon." The White Chair used to bash White heads was the exclamation point on the birthday cake of the best surprise party given this year.