We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
In a piece by Tucker at Town Hall: "The federal Trademark Trial and Appeal Board has already ruled that the word Redskins is racially derogatory and offensive." My reaction to such nonsense:
I am Iroquois, by partial but adequate blood. You can see it in my face if you look carefully, but it mainly comes through in my eyes - I can see stuff outdoors that the Paleface cannot. Baby snakes and quiet birds and a rustling leaf and a turtle just thinking and a canvasback hidden in a snowstorm and a red-tail in a cloud. I love the name Redskins. Or Chiefs, or Indians, or anything that reminds us of our ancestry here in the New World. I do not know why almost any reference to Indians is racist. And I hate the undignified racial and ethnic whining and victim talk from Indians or from anyone else. Everyone should be thanking their God or gods that they are in America. And every human should grant themselves the dignity to not be a complainer. It is childish and reflects poorly on the complainer.
In fact, I don't even mind "filthy savage," which Mrs. Bird Dog has been known to endearingly (?) label me after an unbathed and unshaven weekend clearing brush and drinking Ballantine Ale and covered with sweat and bloody scratches from prickers and branches. It's sort of a badge of pride - our Indian ancestors were not exactly emerged from the Stone Age and we did not bathe and did not change our clothes, and probably smelled terrible, and, compared to Samuel Pepys, we were savages for sure. We were happy to burn people, cut off their genitals and eat them, scalp them, and torture them, and we were always fighting with our neighboring tribes for fun, for glory, for land, or for no reason at all. Our people looked red because of the red-tinted bear fat we anointed ourselves with in the winter to keep warm. We didn't have central heating, or down parkas. Stone Age, although there was a culture worthy of anthropological study, if pre-literate barbarian culture is your bag. So I say quit it with the hyper-sensitive PC BS in our name - I would prefer that the Indian past be remembered rather than erased, stone axes and all.
So Hello Atlanta, Hello Dartmouth - quit erasing us - we were tough deer-hunting, enemy-slaying, stoic, happy-to-die and short-lived braves, and hard-working squash and corn-planting and oyster-picking squaws. Our old ones crawled off into the woods to die when they felt they couldn't keep up. We had a concept of dignity. We learned to handle pain and a difficult life was what we expected. In the Northeast, our greatest discoveries were maple syrup, corn, squash, and tobacco. Good things. We got here first. Probably by mistake, while chasing a herd of Musk Ox across the Bering land bridge and getting lost in a snowstorm, and losing our GPS in the snow, so we deserve no credit for adventurous exploration.
So call us whatever you want, (I prefer being called "Chief") but just don't forget us. We are part of the American heritage, but we were on the wrong side of history. It happens, and we died, mostly from new diseases like colds and flu introduced by the earliest fishermen and explorers long before the Pilgrims, but alcohol didn't do us much good either: Indian Brave like firewater too much. Not your fault, white man - you had your own problems and your own views, and we had no idea what was happening, and in a sense, we are lucky that you English saw us as even human, with souls, thanks to your Christian educations. True Indian braves, like cowboys, never complain.
I have redskin ancestors, too, and people definitely see it in my face, altho my other ancestors ferociously killed Indians. Very glad indeed not to be an Indian squaw (duh--why do you think so many married white men, who treated their women better than the braves did?), But proud that I am stoic, indomitable, hardy, plant productively, and have an eye for a desirable hunter...
Unlike my redskin forebears, I complain a lot. My besetting sin. However, I stand my ground, do my duty, haven't scalped anyone yet, and only mutilate others with words. I think complaining and verbal abuse are probably better than torturing my enemies with knives.
Like many redskins, I have found alcohol to be pure poison. I have a theory that most of us who have had trouble with it, have some genetic inability to handle it now notorious in reservation Indians. But documented in most Indians, many Asians, etc. Lucky Anglo-Saxons (whose forebears never fell for a swarthy brave or maiden) who can handle the stuff...Better to do without.
I am ashamed of casino Indians, scum of the earth! Gambling, like drinking addictively, is a sin.
Hum. There is an excellent author up here (Alaska), Velma Wallis, that wrote "Two Old Women", the retelling of an Athabascan (Indian) story.
Some other Athabascans chided her for telling tales out of school, -that she hadn't otta tell whites those stories, they don't always show Athabascans in the best light!
A dialogue developed on this in the letters to the editor section of our local paper, The Daily News Miner".
A native american (sorry for using a PC grouping, I can't remember if he was Indian or Eskimo) more or less put the discussion to bed with a quote from Oliver Cromwell when he had his portrait painted. The artist, seeking favor, idealized him as a tall and handsome etc. The letter writer in the News Miner noted that Cromwell told the painter to paint him like he is, warts and all.
He said local, Athabascan, history aint all good but it's important to remember it and share it, warts and all.