(Departure) the Faithless Void ||
The Faithless Void || Murdering the Truth
The tremendous reception and importance of the words of Obama, June 4th, are having around the world are one thing : clear evidence of how strongly the citizens of the world are hoping for change of the status quo, in every direction. People at the top to nameless dogs at the bottom of society are all hoping everything will change. To change the world you need to just stand up and move forward, taking responsibility for yourself and the powers of choice that you posses. To the right the foaming dogs of discontent wring their hands and throw shit at every word. Their poison is their drama, and they are the queens of the anal empire which we see on Fox news. Such cowards thrive on good news and hope, something they can poison. The most popular television in the ameriKa. Elsewhere the police say they are looking for an assassin who has written Obama’s names on the righteous bullets. They say they can’t find him. Nearby Dick Cheney tells us that he saved the world by torturing muslim criminals. I wonder when someone will erase him, or at least arrest him. The last eight years of rule by white texas trash leaves a lingering odor in the world.
Often, in the middle of the night I am unable to sleep. All around my life are the fruits and jewels of the sacred life, the promises of those distant beginnings when all life was sacred and there was peace in eight directions, the history of the beginning of my tribal ancestors, of the original life. Once I was sustained by these things, carried by them into the unknown world.
I rise sleepless in a wide world of cowards and liars, murderers, thieves, liars and people without souls. Some of the people are American Indians, some of them are Jews, others are catholics or Republicans, or Muslims, or workers, sometimes the idle rich. Sleepless in a land of Italian corruption, dominated by communist police and absent the human rights we once dared called freedom. I sleep dreamless in a land without leaders and eat at the table of poisons and garbage laid on a plastic table by yet more thieves and profit-mongers and liars. We voted them into office.
I walk streets of the world paved with emptiness, carrying people without lives or hope to places that never existed across lands stolen in blood from those who passed here before me.We are the children of the lies, the crimes, the blood and terror of those soulless dogs who made our world in their image. People of conviction, education and opinions. They dress very well and all of them have iPhones.
I no longer believe in tribes, religions, communities, governments, churches or leaders. I don’t believe in eyephones. I believe only what is before me, what I can lift with my two hands and sense with my own eyes wide open.
The modern media continues to create the fear which they pass over as truth. They are professional, well paid liars and thieves, deranged people who know nothing acting out in front of cameras to tell stories about the American Indian on PBS. People who know nothing see this trash and think it must be true. When you look at who the writers, producers and money people are, you see only white people…white people who willingly allow themselves to elevate liars and cowards, lonely desperate poor people, into a light which has no illumination and which casts longer and longer shadows onto the lives of real people. They do this with every American Indian issue, with issues of the Mexicans, Gypsies, Jews women, and all the other struggling minorities who have lost control over their own histories, languages and lives. The main stream media has never once told a true story about the American Indian. Ever. It seems an accident if they tell us the truth about anything.
Like many of the Old Indians I have imagined some way to avenge the murder of our tribal ancestors. Like many American Indians I find it difficult to forgive modern society for its crimes against the sacred, against the ancestors, against the land. I have known, however, all along, that there is only one way to fight back. I know my anger and pain must be directed into the sacred. I know my revenge must be made entirely of love. I know the sacred of the sacred pipe and the mystery life teachings of compassion are the only weapon at my disposal. I have known this all along. In the darkness I have only the power to reach for the light or close my eyes and be still inside the darkness. I am learning to fight back without fighting. It is not easy, but it is more satisfying.
Sleepless again that night I dreamed I had a big red cadillac which I drove around into the countryside, the wild desert of california. I drove all night, drinking beer. The next morning my wife told me I sang indian songs all night. I watch the sun come up, out of the corner of my eye I see the full moon setting over the emerald sea and make pasta. This dream has replaced the dream I had for many nights when I did sleep where I had a big 18-wheel truck and in the back was a small sacred fire, which I was driving around the world. I miss the truck.
