Through Indian Eyes

 

I purchased this book many moons ago. It is a good book. Not sure of how it would be received today. As a kid, a young adult and now an older adult, I still value Indians in media, in sports, in television, in movies and in the spotlight. Another book I did enjoy was Mitakuye Oyasin: We Are All Related, by AC Ross. I did get to meet him a couple of times so that was cool. The first time was a conference at the Lethbridge University, Ross was a speaker. Phil Lane Jr was the host of the conference and it was the launch of the Four World's Institute. If you ever get the opportunity to go on the internet, search the title We are All Related, find a book store and be able to order the book for about fifteen bucks, do it. The read is interesting. Some things you may find far fetched, maybe weird, but look past that and grab the nuggets of gold the reading offers. You will decide to wish me good feelings and gratitude for sending you to the reading. You will end up quoting, "the world is going to shake like a  dog and shed its fleas." End of the world baby, end of the world (but not the way you think).  

I have been missing Ceremony in my life. Of course I have attended a few this year, but somehow I miss Ceremony. I was at a Ceremony a couple of weeks ago, and man did I feel really good listening to the Knowledgeable ones.  There is much to be said about hearing good words, good advice, good Teachings. I do see things, like the good in others. It takes practice. Practice to look for the good. I think looking for the good in people is in fact Looking Through Indian Eyes. That is about Looking Through Indian Eyes, you look for the good. Thing is not everyone is good. 

You really think Indians are the bad ones? Geez that sucks, sucks the ugly one, on how white people (and others) can't see through Indian eyes.  If you could see Through Indian Eyes, you would see beauty. The beauty of the Children, the Sky, the Earth, the Water. You wouldn't see money in everything, you wouldn't admire greed. 

If you ever get a chance to hear Indian Words,  you will hear good. You will hear them saying Thank You. Even when Indians are praying, it's always about being Thankful. Being blessed for a Gakina, everything and everyone. The People have everything they need on Earth. Why ask for more? Oh but wait, you didn't win the lottery, so you asking the God, the Allah, the Waheguru, the Jehovah, Bog, Dio and so on, to give you something? You want to win a game, so you ask in Jesus name to be on your side? Bombing people, you pray your aim is true and kill those children at school. I hope your prayers are not answered, but that's not right for me to speak like that. I do hope your eyes and ears do open. 

Through Indian Eyes is living as Anishinaabe. I wonder if I look Through Indian Eyes. I mean, I should look through Indian eyes, after all I'm Indian, Anishinaabe, one of the people. I was with my Dad driving through the mean streets of Winnipeg and we were in an area with many an Indian living "hand to mouth." They are the hurting ones, the homeless, the ill, the addicted, the challenged and we saw them. My Dad was old at this time, starting spiral of dementia. He looked sadly at the Indians on the street and started speaking Anishinaabemowin. I made out the words, Gidimaazinaagozi, they are pitiful. I loved my Dad, never said it to him, ever (legacy of Indian Boarding Schools). Dad was hurt for his people, our relatives - Indinawegaamaganidog. Through Indian Eyes, you see other human beings, not the dregs of society. Society sees them as lesser.  

You know many of Indians are not looking Through Indian Eyes. The results of not looking Through Indian Eyes, we knock each other down. We blast those trying to live the Good Life. 

Through Indian Eyes is living Mino-Bimaadiziwin, seeing everything as our Relative. If we see everyone as our Relative, we are going to try and treat them good. 

Are we looking Through Indian Eyes today? Can we learn to see look Through Indian Eyes, if we are not Indian or we were not raised Indian? 

Doesn't It Disappoint When an Indigenous Person you Meet doesn't fit the Description

 I was at a Powwow in Fisher River over 20 years ago and a Maori individual was attending the Powwow. The MC of the Powwow introduced him to the crowd. For some reason, I was there in front of the stand to greet him. We touched noses. He was White looking just like me. I remember this because he didn't look like the Maori folks we know. Needless to say, I was a little bit disappointed. I wanted him to look like the big brown tall handsome Maori folks of Aotearoa. I imagine he was disappointed to be greeted by me as well. In any case there were loads, and I mean loads of real Indian folks around for him to later meet. Powwows are known to have lots of Indians, and many are real Injuns. 

Speaking of Indians, I visit a lot with them in the Reserve (which I belong to) and it is fun, and frustrating at the same time. The Elders (not just Traditional Elders but old folks) are wonderful in sharing stories, knowledge and viewpoints. I also get to visit with the trouble folk as well, the ones living in addiction, specifically meth and crack. 

In Winnipeg there is a homeless situation where the people (mostly white folks) are appalled, disgusted, and angry that the homeless are messing up places. I get that for sure. You drive down some streets where the homeless congregate and there are tents, garbage, shopping carts, bicycle frames all over the places. Not to mention the discarded syringes on the grounds (like playgrounds in some cases and public parks). So people don't like that kind of thing. Me, I don't like it but I am not sure what could be done about it. 

You see people are funny in some ways. Not the laughing funny but peculiar. Like how my friend was; a smart person capable of dialog with anyone, even kings and queens. He had a habit. The habit was, he was comfortable with the drink. He would be sober, doing great things and then he would sabotage all he was accomplishing. He would self sabotage himself because it was uncomfortable "winning." His default was to the street life, the drink, the pills. It was how he was. He knew the taste of winning, but he was more familiar with the taste of losing. Just like how some guys thrive in jail. 

I have met many people who have served time in jail. Whether they deserved or not, I don't know. I used to tease my friend who was in jail many times, there was research study which determined ugly people got more sentence time than good looking people. I guess he got lots of time in jail. Oh anyways, the common thing about jail folk, is they never accept that it was them, who got themselves into jail. They say things like they are "turning the key on us." They say this about anyone in the system, from Indigenous guards to the Elders who work there to help them. It's a thing. "Our brothers are in there, it's a brotherhood." Meanwhile, some of them are killing our own people but yeah those are the brothers. 

Manitoba has an Anishinaabe Premier. Who would have thought it. I mean, Manitoba is not known for their love of Indigenous folk, or anyone of Colour for that matter. So having a political party choose an Indian (not India Indian cause that has happened in Canada and even a Woman too) to head their party. He, the Indian, got elected by the conservative landscape called Manitoba. And get this, he looks Indian. I mean his Mom is white  (not disrespect intended, I have met her and she is a smart strong person) but he has the looks and colour of his Dad. I think all the Indians (well not all, many call him a political prostitute) are waiting for him to do Indian stuff. I mean do something for Indians within his political purview. Like, I don't know follow the law of Point of Sales tax for Indians. Where you purchase something and it is sales tax exempt. It is law after all. Indians may not realize the Premier is leader of  the whole province and the province is mostly White. So essentially white rules the kingdom, despite who is sitting on the throne. Even if the guy is fitting the description of an Indian. This means, the Indian Premier, lord of the manor, the head honcho, the big cheese, the grandest chief, is just a minion for the true rulers of the nest. Indians should not expect anything for them really. The other thing is why should we beg a lower government for stuff, we are sovereign nations after all. 

Fitting the description is a good thing, but it is not the only thing.

Joe TwoRivers - The Forest Rangers TV show
Not an Indian 
Actor Michael Zenon of the Ukraine 

 

Big Wiggly

 I have interacted with many people over the years, from different "walks of life." I have had steaks in a doctor's home in Las Vegas, water skied in Lake Mead with White people. Witnessed "big shots" filling their glass with Hennessy, and telling the host, "you got the best bar in town."  I ate with people who were running for Judicial office in the United States. I have also seen folks take big shots of Everclear, and that is far away from the Remy Martin as one could get.  I encountered and engaged with different folk from various "stations" in society, in life. From the high Scotch drinkers to the Baby Duck connoisseur.  I visited with Lysol drinkers, beer drinkers, Holy Rollers, Jehovah's Witnesses and non-smokes. Today, much of my interaction is with Reserve members and of course my family. I look fondly on the people I interact with today. I do miss visiting many of the people in the "Ceremony Circle," many who are my relatives and friends. I think it's an age thing; you tend to stay home more and hang with your partner, the grandkids. I still think of my friends, family, cousins often, which brings up good thoughts and feelings. I'm lucky to have had those good experiences. There are some interactions which do bring me other thoughts. The meeting with many strangers where just that, strangers. You know how some strangers when you meet and visit them, you wouldn't mind being friends with them, while others you think, "douche bag." I don't really have the opportunity to sit with high rolling big shots much these days. 

I have known many a criminal, whether it was a friend who "buried a business partner in a farmers field" to (as my friend referred to them, himself included) the "cheap nickel and dime-store-hood. They were good people, except for the one little tiny mistake they made; killing someone, breaking entering, and other mistakes.  I'm not going to say they were better than the big-shots, but some of those big-wiggles were kind of creepy. Never went beyond the superficial hand shake with them, so really don't know if they were good folk or not. I don't judge but I do fucking judge. If you are a baby-raping, baby-eating, baby-killing parasite, I don't like you. At the our wedding, in my Mom and Dad's yard, their home, I invited a gentleman who killed and buried a criminal in a farmer's field. I was perfectly comfortable with him at our Reserve. He was not a parasite. Get this, he was not an Indian, but a Whiteman. Yes, even though I judge white people harshly, I did and do have White friends. I exclude them from the rest of the white world. They are fine people, good people, big hearted people. 

So much cruelty in the world and you can bet your bottom teeth it is not the lowly walking-the-mud-with-gum-boots-t-shirt-wearing people. Yeah, for sure, cruelty can be dished out by anyone. The Karen, who calls the cop on a child for selling lemonade, the cop who shoots a child playing with a toy gun, the cop who kneels on a man's neck until he is dead, the father who sexual abuses his child. Cruelty walks with us everywhere and in many different levels. I feel much of the world's cruelty is being enhanced by  the Big Wigglies, the people with uncontrolled power. The power is usually attached to wealth, the obscene wealth. The type of people who would purchase a bottle of Vodka for 3.7 million dollars. 

The Rich, the super-mega-insanely rich people are the culprits, the maggots of greed, are the engineers or cruelty. These are the Big Wiggly cruelty with zero limit. They are the baby eating, baby raping, baby murdering parasites. We live in a mad world ruled by the Rich. The Rich control the world, and control the governments of the world. The governments of the world are largely filled with political prostitutes. The men (and some women, but mostly men, white men) who sign up for public sector life are generally paid and bought for by the rich. For the rich it's a cheap deal. They get to own governments and go to bank, laughing all the way. The political whores spread anal wide for the rich, while the Rich won't even bother with lube. Big Wiggly all the way. The baby eating thing may not be actually true, but the raping culture of the rich is documented, and under age of 18 is still a child, someone's baby. They are raping babies to raping the Earth. You are just a witness. 

It is the man who says "you got the best bar in town," who is the cruel, the Big Wiggly cruel. 

Political Owned Whore 

Wonder What They Are Thinking

 I live in the City of Winnipeg, Manitoba and I drive to the Sagkeeng Anishinaabe Reserve daily. It's not too far, one and half hour drive from city to Rez. When I get into the Reserve border, I drive by Catfish Creek and many a morning there is this Eagle on a tree all by His lonesome. I guess it is a male as it is on the smaller side of the Eagle size, and Women Eagles are huge. Females have the size and dominance, so I hear. Anyways, the Eagle is by his-self in the mornings, sitting in a tree, looking away from the Lake Winnipeg and towards the highway. I wonder what this Eagle is thinking as it sits by his lonesome, looking around? He is just looking out for food? Or is he wondering, why can't I have a Woman (or partner)? Why do I have to be alone? What is the sake of siting here and not being able to share a little meal with someone? 

Society (arseholes) used to think, and some still do, that animals did not have consciousness. Better human beings know this has had to be pure bull-shit. It gives arseholes the "clean-slate" to treat animals with no regard. Thereby giving them the clear conscience to  be cruel to them - dog fighting, animal testing, locking them up in cages and every other monstrous act they feel free to do.  I was just watching a Spanish Bull Fight and saw the Bull being killed with a sword by the Matador. I felt bad for a brief moment and then the feeling and thought went away. It is just like anything else where it's "out of site, out of mind." I wonder what the Bull was thinking, was feeling? Maybe it's a mindless beast? 

You know there are Indigenous folks out there who know, they really know, that the Whole (everything) is related. So how can we think of our relatives as dimwitted creatures? People like to say "oh, they live on instinct." As if that is an excuse to not think of them as Thinking Beings. The pure arrogance of human beings. If there were not Human Beings where would the world be? I really love the analogy that we are the invasive species. Just like those Zebra Mussels. Mucking up everything they come in contact with.

We are in the world of round, of the circle. People like to demonstrate with the Circle; like a Medicine Wheel model, drawing to show connectiveness. For me, the whole Medicine Wheel thing is a Teaching Tool. It reminds us that everything is connected: seasons, directions, elements, ages, and beings. That is all there is to it. Of course there are much more Teachings to the different Circles but in the end, we are all Relatives. So stop taking down to your relatives, like they are (R-word) and beneath you. Afterall you don't know what they are thinking.

Cut Those Tipi Poles

 There is a Powwow (Treaty One area) in Winnipeg  and for some strange bizarre reason some individual or individuals, decided to take a chainsaw and cut up the Tipi poles. Is it just me that finds this really weird. 

"The 5th annual Anishinaabe Days powwow kicked off Saturday in Winnipeg bringing together dancers from across the province and beyond.The celebration at at Naawi-Oodena was clouded by an act of vandalism, as the tipi poles were cut the day before the event. “It’s unfortunate that we had an incident like that here,” said Chief Gordon Bluesky of the Brokenhead Ojibway Nation. “I don’t believe reflects all of Winnipeg and I definitely don’t believe it reflects residents of this area,” said Bluesky."  

This is a weird story and it reminded me of  the The Golden Spruce tree that was killed by this crazy guy. The Tree was not easy to get to. This guy had to swim across the water to get to the island where the Tree was standing. He really wanted to kill this tree. With the Tipi poles it is not as dramatic or as significant. The Golden Spruce was held in reverence by the Neechies (the Haida First Nation). The tipi poles were quickly replaced. The thing is this, someone or more than a someone, had to really think about what they were doing. Had to get a chainsaw, drive over to the area, pick a time where no one would be around. The area is is a high traffic area, and in an area of the City that is a little affluent (or adjacent to rich folks areas). Not that it should matter but you know how it goes. The person or persons were deliberate in what they wanted to do. I wonder what they end goal was, and what they accomplished? Was it an act of racism? Where someone(s) with so much hate, they took the time to carry out and act of vandalism with forethought to hurt someone's feelings? Was it an act by Indians themselves? You know, those Neechies who don't like Traditional ways, i.e. Christian Indian folk. Maybe they went there to make a statement, but who knows. There is this one Reserve who is rumored to outlaw Traditional practices in their community. I think this is so sad. Perhaps it was a grudge attack. Maybe someone or someones, don't like Treaty One or a person or group linked with Treaty one? 

We don't know what motivated the act. It is a small act in the big world. Really an annoyance with little significance. Tipi poles can be replaced, harvested in the bush. If you were to order a set of Tipi poles you would be looking at no less than six hundred bucks and higher to purchase. It wasn't a harmless prank. It was disheartening. It shows contempt for Our Ways, Our People, Our History, Our Community. So it is not a nothing thing. It is like someone decided to come take a shit on your doorstep. set it on fire, knocked and ran away as you come to see who it is. It was an act of disrespect, an ugly disgusting act of knowing this is messed up. Anyways I say fuck them and anyone else who smells like them. 

The Powwow is a celebration, and it is a get together of everyone. The thing about majority of Powwows, is that they are a public good. Meaning they are not a money making venture. They provide a public function, a public service for the public. The nastiness of the chainsaw action on innocent Tipi poles is like shitting on their own kitchen floor. It makes no sense. 

We Didn't Know, Some of Us Know

 At one of the community Powwow Gatherings there were some comments made to the organizers/sponsors regarding a Flag Bearer. The person drilled the organizers about who the Flag Carrier was. At a Powwow entry there are Flag Bearer/Carrier is front and center of the Powwow Dancers. The Flag Bearer either holds the Community Eagle Staff, National Flags, Community Flags at the beginning of the event. They dance with Staffs, Flags while Honour songs go on. This is a significant part of the Powwow. They are chosen to represent the event, the community, the People. So, it is an Honour to be part of this procession. Turns out this particular Flag Bearer was a predator of Women.  "We didn't know." 

Do we know or do we not know, can be the difference between an active participant or a clueless schmoo. In the case of the Honourable Flag Bearer some one must have known. But who knows. There is this guy in the community who is literally a daily voice in the community and We Know. The fella was in the news for sexual assaulting an young woman, barely 18 at the time and he was in his 40's. He wasn't convicted as he said he "kept asking her." She was juiced, drunk, intoxicated, and he had his way with her on the bathroom floor (cause he is a classy guy or as he says a "Traditional man"). She was a petite thing and he is an imposing older guy. So, yeah she "consented" (Heavy on the sarcasm here). The young girl had Aunties who interrupted the "encounter." They beat him on the head with bottles. The courts didn't convict him, so it's all good, he dances at powwow and blows his whistle at the drums.  I guess there are people who don't know, but some of us know.

A number of us organized yearly Gatherings for people who had suffered a suicide loss, a death by suicide. We put out pamphlets and internet postings advertising the Gatherings. We included the people who were going to participating at the Gatherings, various guests, and speakers. There was one fella on the information pamphlets, a good guy by all indications. An Elder, this Woman came on told me about the risk of using his image, name on the pamphlet. Guess the guy had history of sexual abuse. We didn't know, but someone knew. We are shocked when we now know, aren't we?

There is this guy, he was a Chief for many many years. He was widely known for his fierce nature and his deadly stance against colonial injustices and the instruments of colonialism. He was merciless when he went to deal with government officials. I remember him at a meeting speaking to a high ranking executive big wig of the Federal Government; "I used to play hockey too, and with the stickhandling your are doing, I would smash you against the boards." I thought that was a real cute way to threaten and intimidate a bureaucrat. This fellow was exposed on television for having his mother's arm broken. People didn't know or some knew. I remember he dated a relative from our Reserve, put her in the hospital, yeah he was fierce all right. Get this, he has been chosen as the leader for his Band again. Guess they don't know or some of them know, but it's copacetic for those who know.

In the wider society, actors, musicians, political whores are known. They are not known usually for their sick depraved behaviours, and beliefs. We listen to the tunes, watch their movies, vote for them because we don't know, some of us know. The biggest, everyone knows, is of course the racist raping deranged wrinkled whore and no it's not Rosanne Barr, it's the other one. 

Genocide happening in Palestine, We Didn't Know. Kids being targeted deliberately by snipers (IDF). We Didn't Know. It was live on television, the slaughter. We Didn't Know. 

Tom Paxton - We Didn't Know 

“We didn't know,” said the Burgomeister
“About the camps on the edge of town
It was Hitler and his crew
That tore the German nation down
We saw the cattle cars it's true
And maybe they carried a Jew or two
They woke us up as they rattled through
But what did you expect me to do”
“We didn't know at all
We didn't see a thing
You can't hold us to blame
What could we do
It was a terrible shame
But we can't bear the blame
Oh no, not us, we didn't know”
“We didn't know,” said the congregation
Singing a hymn in their church of white
“The press was full of lies about us
Preacher told us we were right
The outside agitators came
They burned some churches and put the blame
On decent southern people's name
To set our coloured people aflame
And maybe some of our boys got hot
And a couple of niggers and reds got shot
They should have stayed where they belong
And preacher would've told us if we'd done wrong”
We didn't know at all
We didn't see a thing
You can't hold us to blame
What could we do
It was a terrible shame
But we can't bear the blame
Oh no, not us, we didn't know
“We didn't know,” said the puzzled voter
Watching the President on TV
“I guess we've got to drop those bombs
If we're gonna keep South Asia free
The President's such a peaceful man
I guess he's got some kind of plan
They say we're torturing prisoners of war
But I don't believe that stuff no more
Torturing prisoners is a communist game
And you can bet they're doing the same
I wish this war was over and through
But what do you expect me to do”
We didn't know at all
We didn't see a thing
You can't hold us to blame
What could we do
It was a terrible shame
But we can't bear the blame
Oh no, not us, we didn't know

It's Not My (fuckin') Concern

 A cousin of mine has lost two of his feet. He lost one foot, than he lost a finger, than another foot. Yeah, he has the diabetes. The guy was never obese and had been always active. Sure he is older now, about 67 or so. I keep meeting guys in my reserve who are losing parts to their bodies and it's from the diabetes. I asked a few of them, "what the hell happened?" This one guy is about five or six years younger than me. He has a tip of his finger gone. He said, "It just fell off. There was a little black dot and next thing you know my finger tip just rotted off." Another guy has some of his toes gone and he said the same thing, little black dot and then the doctor says "got to go," and then snip they took them. It never was any business of mine when people started to lose feet legs from amputation. Now it is my fuckin' concern because I got the diabetes. I was recently put on insulin for  my sugar numbers being high as the heavens. So that was kind of a shitty moment in my life. Don't get me wrong, I have had my good share of shitty moments in my life; you know suicide of my son and high number of deaths in the Reserve. The news of insulin made me quite mournful. Mournful of youth, mournful of mistakes in my life made by me. You see, I never don't think of stuff being on me. I was always at the edge of the pool when it came to wild waves of things. My cousin shoots his wife, I was 15 and he was my older cousin, but wasn't me. A friend of mine hanged himself, I was 15 but it was his family and not me. A car accident killing 5 in front of our house, I was about 8 or 9 but remember it well (our house was on Deadman's curve). The Aunties' house burning down across the highway from us. I was about 14 or 15. Nothing left but the concrete footing of the house. I remember the power lines sparking around and just whipping around on the ground. My cousins without a home, but it wasn't me. 

It's by the edge of the pool but we're not diving in, falling in, or even putting or feet in. It's tragic but not really our fuckin' concern. We have a roof, a bed, a home. You know the world is in a bad way right now. The Earth will always be the Earth, but the world with human beings is in a bad way. But it's not our fuckin' concern. 

Suicide has not really been a concern of mine. Sure I did my first suicide attempt at 17 (gun misfire or no Steve, no kids, not blog). My fixation with suicide, didn't come to much later in life. Again, it was around us and we were not in the pool. My nephew Jay took his own life, long before his cousin, my son took his life. Still at the time of my nephew it was not me. It was me but I still  was just at the edge of the pool. My nieces and the cousins around his age were more in the pool than the edge. It is weird that even things right close to us are still not our fuckin' concern. It's not us, not me. 

I just saw on social media a doctor's post about Loss of Ejaculation when diabetes is long in your life. I was thinking, "I don't know how to feel about that?" I mean, am I going to dip in the pool over this, or just keep sitting at the edge of the pool? And, and to make matters worse, look at this: "Erectile dysfunction (ED) affects approximately 34% to 45% of men with diabetes and has been demonstrated to negatively impact quality of life..."  No damn shit, your quality of life is negatively impacted. God damn, talk about jumping headfirst (get it) deep into the fucking pool. Not just dangling your feet in the water by the edge. Is it in in our fucking concern? Since I am now considered a full-blown type 2 diabetic, should it be my fuckin' concern? The loss of ejaculation is weird though, don't you think? I mean. if Larry Flint has thought us anything, it was the quintessential representation of ejaculation was the shot on someone's face or breasts. With limited ejaculation you are nothing it would seem. Not that I care about following the masses with ejaculation adventures. 

I wonder what else we believe where it's not my fucking concern? Earth quakes happening in Venezuela. Genocide in Palestine where IDF (world's most moral army) are deliberately targeting kids.  On the good side, "more than 100 Catholic bishops, nuns, priests and parishioners joined a procession across the U.S.-Mexico border, urging the U.S. government to treat migrants with dignity and respect." I am not sure if this makes my concern, but what does these days?  I am happy to hear about animal bridges being built. Like last year, Colorado made the biggest animal bridge across a super busy highway. And get this, deforestation in the Amazon (no not the rotten Jeff Bezos empire) has dropped by 24 percent. You can thank the Indigenous people for the drop in deforestation. Also the world increased  use of alternative energy. It is in my fucking concern, because the forests around the world clean the air for all of us. I love the bush, we all should make it our fucking concern. 

My Reserve Chief and Councilors seem happy in their roles but that is not my fucking concern. 

   

Diving in the deep end and not hanging out in the shallow pool. 

I would pay a 100 bucks to see that

 I remember the episode of The Sopranos where Vito is beat to death and a shaft is shoved up his butt. The Lisbeth Salander avenging her rape with shoving a sliver dildo up the butt of her tormentor/rapist. Those fictional shows were memorable. I would pay for a memorable episode right now for some certain villains of society.

I would pay a 100 dollars to see the Orange dude (Mr. pedophile Trump) have a similar experience of anal exploration by Lisbeth Salander or by the old Hillary Clinton lady. Now that would be something the public would love to see.

I would pay a 100 dollars to see the Orange dude (Mr. wants to sodomize his daughter Trump) slide down one of the big twirling water slides, the ones that you exit at a 100 miles an hour and have the same experience on the Schlitterbahn Water Park in Kansas. You know, the infamous decapitating slide. 

I would pay 100 dollars to see Danielle Smith sit in one of James Arthur Ray's Warrior Sweat Lodge. I wonder if she would fare better than James Shore or Kirby Brown. 

I would pay 10 dollars to see Doug Ford get intimate with the Animal Farm's Napoleon (the Pig in the book Animal Farm). Not that I would enjoy it, but I would be paying to see the expression of his face. 

I would pay 100 dollars to see Pierre Poilievre do journalistic reporting in Gaza. 

I would pay 10 dollars to see Mark Carney drink water right out of the Athabasca River everyday, for at least a month. Where the Athabasca River runs through the Tars Sands area. Carney and the Country of Canada see no issue with the environmental concerns raised by the Neechies living there. 

I would pay 100 dollars to see Benjamin Netanyahu smothered, lathered in maple syrup and do the Game of Thrones walk of shame through the rubble of Gaza. With the added nuance of children saying "shame, shame, shame," and then the Yellow Jacket Wasps are released around his walk path. I would for sure pay 100 bucks to see that.

I would pay 100 bucks to see FBI guru Kash Patel, go snorkeling off the coast of California, all the while he is pulling Chum in a cotton sack, tied to his swimming fins. All the while there are camera crews following his day long adventure in the Ocean. I paid to see that.

I would pay 10 bucks to see Kristi Noem be in the middle of the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain. She would do well with the Bulls as she is comfortable with Bull shit. 

I would pay 100 bucks to see Trump, and his team of retards (the label is only for them) swim in the Porkchop Geyser. Where the water is a nice temperature in excess of 200 degrees Fahrenheit. It would be an adventure for them that is for sure. 

Entertainment may come with a cost. 

"Word's once Spoken, can't be taken Back."

 "Horace’s wise saying is straightforward: words, once spoken, can’t be taken back. Just as an arrow, once released, cannot be returned to the bow, comments, when uttered, have an irreversible trajectory. They can mend or break, uplift, or shatter. The core message? Think before you speak, and recognize the power your words hold." In today's world this quote has never been more truer. 

I was visiting with this Anishinaabe Kwe (Ojibwe Woman) yesterday. She has a reputation for being a "hard" difficult person, Zanagizi, as they say. I openly tease her about being Zanagizi, and we laugh. I personally haven't been on the end of her "hardness" but have heard about it. She of course, doesn't understand why people think that of her. It's always about context isn't it? When someone is being difficult there must be a reason for it. We may not agree, or that person may even be wrong, but they have reasons for being difficult. Of course some individual are just arseholes and that's that, not saying my visitor is anything but an alright person. Anyways, we were speaking about the endless posts on social media of negativity. Not just negative views but just pure venom being splashed all over people's faces. Like in those pornography videos (that I have heard of) where a strapping young man with Jesse Ventura type body or maybe a potbellied middle age white man with the horseshoe hair line, and they "jizz" all over an agreeable face. This is what happens on social media, and many times it's people we know. Some of those people are self-aggrandizing wise ones, who are following the Teachings; Seven Teachings to be exact. As my visitor and me were exchanging wise words to each other,  (actually it might be called gossiping) we concluded that those individuals from our Reserve, are not exactly being good role models. Not good examples, despite all their self-promotions and glorifying their deeds of philanthropy.  Still there can be truth in any of our boasts. 

Boy, I tell you, I have said many a bad thing about people now and then. Part of being a human being I guess. It takes work, practice to say mainly good things about people. But many are doing that, they do it in person and in the world of computer screens. I tend to like that a little bit, good remarks of someone sharing a bit of joy in their lives. A photograph of a grandbaby, a puppy, a boyfriend and a new job is worth a good word or response. I can never ever imagine someone saying to me, "man you have an ugly _______."  Can those words be taken back? I guess if it is joking? 

My visitor was saying "I wonder if they would be benefit from a Circle?" What she was talking about was having the people in this case, who were saying hurtful things to each on social media. Some pretty ugly things. Would having them share to each other, benefit both of them? Like something of a mediation? I don't know how it would be. As far as words go, they are out there, so how could the words be unsaid? 

My visitor and me talked about apologies. I think we should apologies when we do something, say something, write something that has hurt someone. The thing is we have no business after the apology with how it is received by the hurt person.  If the hurt party doesn't accept the apology, it is their right not to accept the apology. I don't know if you should try and try to apologize or let it be. I think you let it be, but work to not do that mistake again. Word's once spoken, can't be taken back.

Well, as my deceased friend used to say as he was leaving, "goodbye, never did like you anyway." 

Now that's how you say,  Giga-Waabamin. 

Even Heroes Die

My friend died the other day. He was sick and in a care home. He had just turned 66. There is no way to really to pay homage to him, he was full of life for sure. My first real memory of him was us on a swing set. It was the Fort Alexander Indian Residential School. We never called it that, it was the Boarding school; everyone in the Reserve called it that. He was moved to another Boarding School in Winnipeg. So we didn't see him all that often growing up, just once in a while. His life was filled with adventure, mishap and encounters with the law. We did run into each other walking on a street in Winnipeg. From there we had a life long relationship. Not just a relationship of being from the same Reserve but being oldest friends. 

I was saying at this funeral service of how we live one life but really we lived many lives and he lived thousands of lives. The fun we had, the criminal acts we did, the dangerous situation we were in, and the bond we had. He was good to my wife. He was always Uncle to the kids. He was intelligent, good looking, compassionate, kind and troubled. He carried the Demons of the Boarding Schools, foster homes, juvenile corrections and jail. His demons followed him and tripped him up many times. He would be doing well, making high level connections and when it was going to well for him, he would sabotage himself. 

When he died he took many of my secrets with him. He also took many lifetimes of stories. He was a great story teller. Making jail sound so much fun, one of the listeners said, "oh I wish I was there." The guy actually thought jail was a fun place to be, because of Earl's stories. 

We were bonded but we were opposites. He was addicted and I only actively indulged with alcohol for about 3 or 4 years. He was cool, calm under pressure, while I was volatile and high strung. He was naturally smart while I had to work at it. He was multi-talented while I was one dimensional. We both carried demons. His demons manifested in addictions. My demons manifested in wickedness. We both tried to do right by people. Failed many times at it, but lived through the aftermath. I remember one time he had passed out from drinking; a fucking piece of shit bully took a fish knife and cut lines on his face. Like the Jack Nicholson joker. When my friend was healed I was so mad. I picked him up and took him driving around looking for the guy, I had a handgun was taking my friend to go and shoot this fucker. "Maano, maano" was my friend. I didn't find the guy at his home. We were friends with this creeps younger brother and Earl didn't want him to be hurt. 

Like many heroes, he would need rest. When we were younger he would be able to stop abusing for periods of time, later in life, addiction did consume him. Still he held onto his Spirit. He was good. I told him many times how such a smart guy can do such stupid shit to himself.  I was fortunate to have him as a friend. We had many disagreements, many falling outs, but we always found our friendship still intact. No matter how rough it became between us, we never stopped loving each other. I did love my friend. Its funny because growing up in our times, love was never said to anyone, except maybe your partner, the Woman in your life. No love said to your Mom, never to your Dad or your siblings. 

I was telling my cousin how weird it feels. My friends are dying. Heroes do die. 

 

Fuck me anyways

 There are lot of reasons to be swearing at yourself. One of them is for being an arse. The16th of March is 21 years that my Mom died from Cancer. Yeah, Cancer that ugly beast. Had she had been diagnosed who knows if she would have had a chance. She was having stomach problems for quite some time and the local Doctor told her to drink coffee or not drink coffee and to walk. It had become unbearable for her in the winter, my sister took her to emergency in the city, Winnipeg. She spent the night and the next day the news of cancer was given. One month later she is dead. 

I saw on social media where this guy shows a lifeline using a long piece of paper. He holds up this thin piece of paper and says this paper represents 100 years of life: "the average life span for women is 81 and the average age for men is 75 years of age. So take of 25 years from the 100 and cut it out. Now you are 65 years of age, so take that 65 years from the first part of the paper. Threw it away, it is gone, you can never get that back. What do you have left? You have this small piece of paper which represents your life left." That video sure hit it  on the bullseye. Just like I always say, "my life flashed right between my eyes," or something to that affect. I think about those god-damn 65 years now gone. Gone! No matter how much I want to have them back they are gone baby, gone. 

Fuck me anyways. All those mistakes, those ill said words, those dastardly deeds and no way to fix them. If, and there is always if, we just have the time back. Oh, how we would do things differently. It's like finding a frog hopping in the middle of a street in January in Manitoba of all places. If's are not going to happen, just like a garter snake slithering around the top of the frozen Red River when it's minus 30 degrees Celsius. Those years are gone man, gone. The only thing left of those years are our memories. That's where I say to myself, Fuck me. I think of those times when I could have been kinder. When I should have been more generous with time for my Mom, for my Dad, for my brother Pancho, and for my Son, Don. 

I drive to the Reserve everyday Monday to Friday from the city and that's when the haunting takes over from the night before. I will be driving along listening to tunes and it will hit me, Fuck me anyways. 

Imagine that, the chances are I don't have ten years left. Am I going to spend the next ten years continuing to say Fuck me anyways? It's those fucking if's, we actually think we can have those if's. Nope, we only have those mistakes, those regrets, those fucking selfish moments. That is what keeps us saying Fuck me anyways. 

As my grand-daughter use to say when she was three, Popsicle will make it better. 

Come Over if Your Intentions are Good

 It was a Gathering, a gathering for Women to speak about things. The Women are Warriors, Women who have been active in all manner of causes. They speak up for the environment, the Land, the water, for the Missing Women, the Women killed, the lack of support from men. So they wanted a public forum to Stand in their Truth. That is what they did, they called for the public to come take part. The Women all spoke with their hearts and their experience. The Women included the men. The men came to listen and to share when they were asked. An man who was known as a good man, was asked to speak at the Gathering. The people asked, were asked right at the Gathering, they were not approached prior to the Gathering. It was an organic thing, where things traveled with no pushing or pulling a direction. The  man stood in the middle of the group. He had his hands low but out to the front of him. One hand was open and he looked at it. He was quiet for a while. He then started to speak about Tobacco. You see Tobacco is Sacred for Indian people (I know we are not Indian people). Tobacco is one of the First Sacred Medicines given to our people. Tobacco is used respectfully and that includes gifting it or presenting it to someone which you are seeking advice, time, or their presence. When the man was asked to speak, no Tobacco was presented to him, thus the looking at his hand for Tobacco.  I loved that. We make mistakes and how are we going to correct those mistakes if we don't know? 

"Well, go ahead and call the cops, you don't meet nice girls in coffee shops. She said baby, I still love you. Sometimes there's nothin left to do."

This past we had a two day Ceremonial Gathering of Women and Men. It was a Ceremony for them to seek life as a Water Protector and an Ogichidaa. There was much preparation, cost and effort to make the Ceremony happen. Elders, Traditional Teachers were all presented with Tobacco for their presence at the Ceremony. Some were presented Tobacco at the Ceremony. The two day Ceremony was intimate gathering with fewer than a hundred people in attendance. So much wisdom present in the two days. The amount of knowledge shared was incredible. Those of us in their presence were so fortunate. 

"Well, God bless your crooked little heart, St. Louis got the best of me. I miss your  broken-China Voice. How I wish you were still here with me."

I remember this guy used social media to announce his Ceremonies/Sweat Lodges. He would write "come if your intentions are good" or something like that. I like that and at the same time question that. Would I not come if  my intentions were not good? I don't even know what that would look like. It feels weird but it's like the saying "prayers up, tobacco down." I guess it's meant to inspire or to acknowledge something? Me, I miss when the Old People would answer a story with "Yoohoo." 

"Well, he gave her a dimestore watch, and a ring made from a spoon. Everyone's looking for someone to blame, when you share my bed, you share my name."
 

Measuring Spiritual Dicks

 When I was a kid, I went to the Fort Alexander Indian Boarding School on our Reserve. The Nuns were the teachers along with the Priest. It was a grand building, three stories and basement floor. I remember we used to tease this guy, "nananana-number 99, na ah." I guess when he stood in line up, this was his number or the person's number next to him. He had a stutter and this was what he said when the kids were in line to go into the Indian boarding school. We did catechism or Catholicism (always thought it was called Categism,  ha funny it isn't) I think everyday. At home as a kid I had four-volume Bible story books. Filled with stories of the Bible along with some drawings to illustrate the story lines. You can say I learned a bit about the Bible stories, along with everyone else in the school. Thing is it doesn't make an expert or even competent in the stories or teachings from Christianity. There is always an "expert" out there in these matters of religious doctrine. They will hit you over the head with how much they know. Meaning you are beneath them and they have a bigger spiritual-dick than you (I actually didn't know there was a spiritual dick term, I thought I made it up based on what I see).

In Anishinaabe circles there is similar things happening with more "Traditional" than you contests. It is like when were young, the guys always bragging about how many girls they "banged" or how big their dicks were. Well that is happening in the Indian tipis today. I like the phrase once used to describe the righteous and the pious sycophants of the various religious houses,  Machi-Anishinaabe.  It's funny we have a guy called Machi-Preacher and another called Machi-Elder. These Machi-individuals are more than others because they proclaim a divinity bestowed on them either by God or the Creator. So they too want to carry the big dick around. 

How do we know who has the biggest spiritual dick anyways? What measuring stick do we use. I guess we can take your word for it. As one person said, "I went to the Real Elders." I imagine there are those who indeed studied under the Gete Anishinaabe Peter O'chiese. Elder O'chiese came a number of times to Manitoba and thought a number of Elders. That is fact and no one can take away from all those who he had shared Ceremony with (Roseau River, Sagkeeng, Black River, to name a few places). I knew a few of those men and women who attended Elder O'Chiese Teaching ceremonies. Many became Knowledge Keepers, Elders, Teachers, Healers and Helpers. I don't think I ever seen them try get into a Spiritual-Dick contest. I imagine it might be due to the Teaching O'Chiese said about living Kindness. One of the gifts Creator gave was to have Kindness. 

I guess showing off how big  your spiritual-dick is doesn't have anything to do with Kindness, but who knows. Maybe slinging your big spiritual dick around is a good thing, but I wonder if it is. 

My dick may be small, but it's the one I have and will use it as much as I can. The small-spiritual-dick may not be smashing anything but what the heck, have fun with it anyways. 

For all you big-spiritual-dick people, can I ask you, does it get heavy carrying all that, doesn't it get tiring being a big-dick? 

Wouldn't it be funny if people started saying, "I can see your spiritual-dick, put it in your pants."

Spiritual Dick - Measuring Is Not A Vibe

The Allure of Comparison:

In a world that often emphasizes external achievements, it's no surprise that this mentality can infiltrate even the most sacred and personal realms of life, including spirituality. The allure of comparison can turn a journey meant for self-discovery and inner peace into a race for who can accumulate the most esoteric knowledge, the longest meditation sessions, or the most profound spiritual experiences.

Ojeenay, Do Bad and Bad will Bad You

 I am not too old, 65 and relatively doing okay. Sure I have the pain in my shoulders and weak hands. I have diabetes, never expected to get that as I'm not a big sugar person. I do however like bread, lots of bread. Maybe it contributed to my sugar being out of whack but who knows. All I know is I lived a pretty long life already. I am curious and wonder about my impending demise. Will I  get dementia and live obliviously to what is going on around me? It could be something for sure. I am kind of excited to know what will happen. Not that I'm welcoming my end of existence but it will come regardless of what I think. Will I be killed in a car accident, going 120 kilometers an hour down a gravel washboard road and I serve onto the side of the ditch hitting a large oak tree or a poplar tree. Or maybe I just get sick with diabetes and start to lose my limbs. First a foot, than more of the leg and then the other leg. So I'm in wheel chair and the wife puts me in a home. I certainly hope not. In any case there are reasons I might have a bad death. 

When you're young you don't have the experience to really understand your stupidity. The stupid, the mean and the ugly things you do. When I was about 18, I was out hunting with some cousins and they were younger than me. We saw a Big Black Bear in a farmers field. It started running away from us. I aimed at it and pulled the trigger. I was using my Dad's old 3030 Winchester model 94. The Bear fell in its tracks. We took off. I killed a Bear with no intent to use it. It was an ugly mean act of pure evil. Killing a Relative, an animal that did no harm to anyone. An animal known for its medicine. I did that. I was told about Bears later on. How a skinned Bear resembles a person. How the Bear carries medicine.  

My Dad always use to speak of Ojeenay. You were never ever to do wrong to animals. You will be punished for doing bad to animals. I broke that rule, that common sense knowledge to do right. I decided in a moment to kill for the sake of killing. Fuck me anyways. No wonder Ojeenay followed me. Maybe it still follows me. I never did apologize for taking the Bear's life. Perhaps I should try and do that, Feast the Bear and ask for it to forgive my ugly act. Maybe it will give me a a task to do, I don't know.  

Last week I was in a situation where a Medicine Woman was available. I had no real reason to go see her, but for about a month or so I had been feeling wrong, my body felt off and it was like a dark blanket was on me. So it was just happenstance that I go the opportunity and did go offer tobacco, gifts and a little money. I also had an ugly incident from a fellow in the Reserve. I also bit into a small piece of ham and didn't I break my teeth. I had a front bridge that was connected to my teeth. The teeth broke off at the roots. So it hurt for a bit, as the nerve was exposed. The Medicine Woman did Ceremony for me. She discovered a person did "Bad Medicine" on me. Same guy who did me ugly in the Reserve. Go figure it was not something I didn't expect. After all the guy is a douche. That's the technical term for him. So I'm not to act against him. Ojeenay will be his future. 

I have done lot to be regretful, ashamed, guilty for and that is for sure. There are also many things I feel good about. Will I ever balance the scales of doing Bad and doing Good? 

I never ever forgot the Bear. His last movements I still see clearly. I do remember everything. 

Will I remember anything as I go meeting my death. 

One of the things is I know the wrong I have done, no amount of scolding from others can cause more harm to me than I harm myself. 

Where Are Your Fucking Receipts

 We are trying to bring a Ceremony to our Reserve, Sagkeeng Anishinaabe Nation. The Ceremony will be for both Women and for Men: Water Protectors ("To be a Water Carrier is to protect water as life itself...") and Ogichidaa ("the word originates from components that suggest growth (Ogi-), greatness (Chi), and Heart/Spirit (-Daa). It represents a person who embodies courage, compassion, and the protection of their people"). Our Reserve has a little more than 9,000 people registered to our Band/Nation. More than half of our Members do not live in the confines of the Reserve. The people who reside in the Reserve are truly blessed to have a community with relatives. The Ceremony we are trying to have is just another block to add to the future of our community. 

Sunday Afternoon
North End Bear Clan
We sure had a wonderful day in the neighborhood! We were able to hand out sandwiches, juice boxes, snacks, sweaters, & smiles. Thank you so much to our amazing, dedicated volunteers & our friends from 190! Stay safe & please look out for one another out there (Facebook)

I am a fan of people who do the work. These folks are volunteers. They go on the streets. They meet with those who are needing help. They speak with people, they listen to people, they help people. This is the work of Protectors, the Ogichidaa. They are the ones who have the "receipts" for what they have done for their community. We need more of these people. The ones who do what is right and walk with kindness. We need to also recognize they are regular people who do live life which includes mistakes, vulnerabilities and shortcomings. Still through it all they want to live a life of doing what is right. Many try. 

There are some who are full of shit. I had the privilege of dealing with a fella in our Reserve. He claims to be "Traditional" and works in the community in that way. What he is trying to say is that he walks the Red Road, a walk of being a good person, a person with respect, humility, compassion, kindness and all what goes with being Traditional. It's akin to being a Christian, a person who believes in the Teaching of the Church or Bible.  A person who "loves thy neighbour." When someone boasts of walking this road, it is not usually meant as a they are kind and to be respected for their Beliefs. In some cases, it is to put you beneath them. Fuck those guys. Show me the fucking receipts. How do you walk when it is not about your pay? Of course there are many, many good people who are employed in a care industry and do make an earning for their work. But to them it doesn't stop at the bell, when it's time to go home. No, they are walking and earning their receipts out in the community outside of their jobs. Good people, helping people, they are. They have been doing this most of their lives. For others, it is performative. Performing an act. They go to bed with the "fooled em' again," as their mantra. The only thing is they are not fooling anyone. We see them, you see them. 

So the bringing of the Water Protector-Ogichidaa Ceremony is not for performance. There are those already being the "Great-Hearted-Ones." They will come take a pledge to continue their way of living. It is just in this Ceremony, they will pledge to themselves and the Creator, in front of witnesses, that they will live a life of being a good community Ambassador. A person who will stand up for the Land, the Water, the Community, the People. 

For the guy/girl who uses the title of Traditionalist or Christian just to try and cloak themselves in respectability, go suck a moo arse. You don't have any receipts to show your are doing the work. 

Murdered Missing Indigenous Women Walk Winnipeg 2026

 February 14 Canadian Women (and men) gather to remember the Many Women who have gone missing or have been murdered. I have gone to some of the walks in the past, decided to go this year. I meet people, relatives, friends  who go to support the families. I see Bernice is still bringing awareness for her girl, Jennifer. There is a feeling of overwhelming sadness but you also see the resilience of the survivors, the families still searching and remembering. I see Sue Caribou still using her voice to bring justice for Tanya. There are many names, and most I don't know anything about. I marvel at those who continue to show up and support. My nieces are there with some of their children to take part in the Remembrance Ceremony and Walk. The hurt is still there and the people are not giving up. Our Reserve has its share of Women who have gone missing and have been murdered. It is disheartening to see small turnout of our community at these Gatherings. I know you can't go to everything that is happening. 

We see you Women who never give up. 

Grand Chief of MKO 

Denise is a long time volunteer