Category Archives: Uncategorized

Cliven Bundy; an indigenous perspective on the armed militia response

Attack the System

Lingit Latseen

I am personally ambivalent regarding Mr. Bundy’s specific claims to grazing lands and cattle grazing in Nevada. I feel certain there are environmental issues with cattle grazing practices in an arid region. As an Alaska Native and American Indian (descended from two distinct tribes) I would also be very sympathetic to any current indigenous claims to the land in question; but I am not aware of any.

I have seen two different reactions to the situation through social media from fellow Natives. The first has been unabashed support for anyone fighting the Feds. We have our own history of armed standoffs with government forces. Consequently, our organizations have been the target of intense repression by COINTELPRO and law enforcement. Additionally, a number of incidents, from entrapment of indigenous trappers to raids on hemp farms in sovereign territory have put the native population at odds with the Feds; nevermind…

View original post 658 more words


BBC Editorial Misinformation & Propaganda

The ONLY reason I am posting this is because this opinion piece from the BBC is classic propaganda and lies, designed to lull western readers into a fuzzy acceptance of their own leaders’ crimes and provocations toward war. If this type of MSM crap is where you are getting your news (or like Reuters, NPR, MSNBC, Fox, etc.), you are being badly misinformed.

The last paragraph is the worst. It is nothing more than a recycling of the old Communist Domino Theory, which I’m sure you all remember, was the public psychic massaging (and messaging) used to gain public support (or at least blunt resistance) to wars in Korea, Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Colombia, etc.

When the BBC prints this type of shit, it makes me want to puke in disgust:
“There is always a question mark over punitive measures. Are they a help or a hindrance? As a broad principle, Western nations publicly preach the benefits of engagement over isolation and regard the cold-shoulder as an extreme measure.”

REALLY??? SERIOUSLY??? Yeah, the U.S. was forced to sanction Iraq for 10 years, admittedly killing 500,000 Iraqi children. (But the price was worth it.) Yeah, the U.S. has been forced to sanction Iran for 35 years, killing their children also, because the Iranians had the gall to overthrow the dictator installed there by the U.S. (by, strangely and familiarly enough, overthrowing the Iranian’s own democratically elected president).

See a pattern here?

We’ll Be ‘Dead Or In Prison Before We Allow’ Keystone Pipeline

Tim DeChristopher, your travails are a gift to us all.

You will not find a more eloquent, courageous and principled moral statement anywhere.  This statement is on a moral par with Martin Luther King’s letter from the Birmingham jail, and he goes to prison for all of us.  Coming on the heels of my post regarding Peak Oil, I am compelled to post this statement, made by Tim DeChristopher to his sentencing federal judge.  It is the measure of moral action that each of us should be prepared to undertake, and to accept, as the cost of taking right action.  Here, in his own words:

The Crap People Write

I’m sorry, but if you have a contract to write for a major media source, you are going to open yourself up for criticism if what you produce is complete pap, crap, pulp, and MSM bullshit. So, here is an article I came across on AlterNet, along with the associated commentary, much of which is mine. (This is why I don’t have time to write this blog.) By way of explanation, AlterNet is a progressive media site, tightly tied with the Democratic party. Their leanings are unduly ideological, and I therefore do not frequent the site much. But I get their e-mails, and when a headline piques my interest, I may just jump in, as I did here. Please read the comments, as the article itself is lame.

Here it is:

New rules put clamp on chatty Fed officials

[Sorry folks, I wasn’t able to link to this article for some reason. I’ll work on that.]

“The Federal Reserve, in a push to control the often wayward communications of its top officials, issued detailed rules on Tuesday dictating what they can and cannot do.”

“The move is part of a broader effort at making the Fed appear less detached from public concerns following criticism during the financial crisis that policymakers were too kind to Wall Street at the expense of Main Street.”

This is complete double-speak. This move isn’t to make the Fed “appear less detached from public concerns.” It is to make the Fed MORE detached from public concerns! This is not about transparency, which is what we need the most right now. It is about obfuscation, pure and simple. Let them speak! Let us decide!

This is bad. That was so ineptly done, that it boggles the imagination. I’m going to have finish this tomorrow.

Musings on Mother Earth and Kindness

I had an interesting interaction yesterday, and it really impacted me at a radical and fundamental level.  As I took a smoke break at the office (yes, I still smoke), I looked over toward the front of the building and spied someone lying in the grass.  The person appeared to be sleeping.  I assumed it was one of the tenants of the building catching a nap, or maybe one of their clients, biding time before an appointment.  An hour or so later, I saw the person was still there, and started watching.  After a few minutes, the person stood, and I could see it was a young male, I would estimate in his early twenties.  He was dressed only in his underwear.  The young man stretched and walked over to a nearby vinyl fence separating the business parking lot from the neighboring property.  He then grabbed the top of the fence, and banged his head on it a few times, pulled the top of the fence to-and-fro, banged his head a couple more times.  He then stood with his belly against the fence, and urinated on it.

My observations quickly led to a reassessment of the napper, and I can’t say it was positive.  His affect appeared agitated, perhaps drug-induced.  He returned to his spot in the grass (right behind my car), and sat down.  At this point, I decided to observe him more closely.  I returned inside the building and went to the front, where I could observe him through a window.  After a very short time, the young man picked up his few belongings — some clothes and a plastic bag containing some apparently light items — and began walking back along the side of the building, toward the side door from where I had originally observed him.  I followed from inside the building.

The young man walked along the east side of the building.  My office is located on the northeastern corner, so I went there and watched as he walked around that corner, and behind the building.  (My building is fenced on three sides.)  I continued following, as he traversed to the west side, where he put his clothes on, shorts and a t-shirt.  He then returned to the east side of the building, where he laid down directly underneath my office window.  My desk and chair are directly in front of this window.  The window has blinds, which were turned downward but not shut.  He lay down on his stomach and cradled his head in his arms.

I was concerned at this time.  I strongly considered calling police to have him removed from the site, as he clearly did not belong there.  I weighed the action in my head as I watched him lie beneath my window.  He could tell he was being watched, as he sat up a couple times and looked around, each time laying back down.  And I contemplated.  I wondered if perhaps he was homeless — a very distinct possibility in these times.  Nonetheless, it was nearing the end of the workday, and I was not desirous of him continuing to be right outside my window as I left my office.  Should I call police?  Should I ignore him?

And then, as I watched his feet dawdle, in their flip-flops, a thought occurred to me.  What if that was my son?  What if one of my sons were to find himself in that very place, with someone like me secretly staring from behind blinds?  I wondered what had brought him there, and whether he was hungry.  Tears welled up into my eyes, and I instantly knew my course of action.  I had an apple in the refrigerator from a lunch I had not quite finished a week or so past.  I had a water bottle I had earlier emptied that day.  I went to the kitchen and retrieved the apple, and filled the bottle with tap water, and I went outside.

I exited from a door near where he was laying, and he instantly stood up.  He positioned himself in the middle of the side lawn as I approached.  And I asked him, “Are you hungry?”  He looked at me for a second and said, “What?”  I repeated, “Are you hungry?” and added, “Do you want this apple?”  His breath went out of him, and it was clear he had been holding it.  He smiled, and took the apple from me.  I then handed him the water.

The young man seemed to feel a need to explain himself, and began a fragmented story about police and the “psych ward.”  But that wasn’t why I was there any longer.  I looked at him and said, “That is all I have.  This apple and water.”  He looked at me and said, “Wow.  I didn’t expect that,” and his eyes watered up.  I nodded to him and turned to go back inside.  He called to me, “Thank you,” and I told him he was welcome.  I never saw him again after that.

Speaking only to what I experienced, because I cannot presume to speak for him, I had turned my fear into compassion, my protectiveness into caring, my anxiety to kindness, and that apple and water did far more for me yesterday than it would have if I had ingested them.

I came home that night, and watched the waxing moon, nearly full, floating among stars and flirting with the clouds, at peace, and feeling whole.


Stone Lodge

%d bloggers like this: