Lost

Lost Dec 14, ’08 2:15 PM
by Ann for everyone

Lost (Wednesday Groaner)

Long, long ago an old Indian chief was about to die, so he called for Geronimo and Falling Rocks, the two bravest warriors in his tribe. The chief instructed each to go out and seek buffalo skins. Whoever returned with the most skins would be chief.
About a month later Geronimo came back with one hundred pelts; sadly, Falling Rocks never returned.
Today as you drive through the West you can see the evidence of love and devotion the tribe had for this brave. At nearly every mile marker there are signs saying, “Watch for Falling Rocks.”

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101 Ways to Prepare Long Pork / 2010

101 Ways to Prepare Long Pork

With food shortages and famine encroaching on civilization it should come as no surprise that alternative food sources will gain more popularity as necessity dictates. The ‘junk’ fish people use to discard will find its way onto the frying pan by thankful and starving anglers in the near future. Bones will become the mainstay rather than Fido’s Scooby Treats; hmm Fido will look pretty tasty as well. The 3-Day Chicken will become commonplace once again provided there are chickens. But when things get dicey and sustenance becomes nonexistent, for a host of catastrophic reasons, the dead guy lying next to you may very well hold the key to your existence. Welcome to the dark side of survival, where a person is forced to lift a fork and consume a fellow human being in the age old culinary adventure called cannibalism. Guess a person could use chop sticks or a piece of fry bread if they chose to.

 

Granted this is a very taboo subject and totally unacceptable under most conditions but there are times when dining on others is permissible. Throughout the ages people have been placed in situations where they either died along side others or ate from the flesh of the dead. It was once said that Columbus cut and quartered plump native kids then pickled them in wood casks for his first return trip from the ‘New World’. The Donner Party as well as Al Packer comes to mind in American cannibal lore. An old sailor once told me about an unwritten maritime law where it was OK when stranded in a lifeboat to eat a fellow crewman if they expired before you. The Andes Flight Disaster of Oct. 13 1972 where a Uruguayan airplane crashed in the Andes with a soccer team onboard was a classic case for cannibalism and survival. So please bear in mind that the situation must be extreme before people are added to the menu. And in no way am I condoning human flesh as ‘the other white meat’. Personally I prefer legs and thighs, dark meat please.

 

Let’s say that you and a group of your friends and family survived the time of change and dodged all the bullets man and nature tossed your way. You’ve built a compound with all the amenities your group needs such as living quarters, kitchen and crapper. Reverting to hunter gatherer techniques the hunters would go out in quest of food for the newly evolving clan. Others would scavenge through the ruins of civilization for just about anything useful to bring back to camp. Building materials, clothing, food and other items would be collected as the budding community grows. Eventually anything that was good would be picked through and all the food stuffs would be gathered. Weeks would pass into months then one day the hunters report that the wild game is disappearing.

 

As time progresses, the hunters come back empty handed more and more. Food stuffs gathered from the ruins of civilization become depleted and the villagers are getting hungry. Daily, people begin to sicken as starvation and disease sets in. First it’s the elderly then the children start to die. The healthiest people begin to succumb from the pangs of starvation as well. Then a bulb lights up in your head, “Why don’t we eat Uncle Otis? After all, he’s dead anyway.” In all reality there would be allot of soul searching before a fork touched Uncle Otis since it’s not normal to eat people, let alone a relative. Whence all the tears were shed and you made your peace with the Creator it’s time to prepare supper. Where would a person start when it came to eating human flesh? And where is Andrew Zimmern (Bazaar Foods, TLC) when you need him?

 

Long Pork (LP) has been slang for human meat since time immemorial. Interestingly enough human meat or LP has also been treated like pork since it must be well cooked before consuming. So now you have Uncle Otis on the chopping block. The first thing you should do is to dress him out. No, I don’t mean only take his cloths off but to remove the skin and the internal organs then save. Remove the skinned head and place with organs and skin in bucket. Be careful not to tear or puncture the stomach or intestines since the contents can taint the meat. At this time you should check the liver for spots since that would tell you if the meat is diseased or not. Hopefully Uncle Otis was healthy, other than the fact he starved to death. It is a sure bet he will not have much fat on him. Lean is good since triglycerides and serum cholesterol would still be an issue for some folks. LP is greasy and filled with antibiotics, growth hormones and other nasty chemicals that is in their feed so beware because human is also not Kosher or Halal.

 

LP would provide needed protein for survival in the form of chops and steaks. The back strap would be small but offer tender cuts of meat. Ribs are ribs and neck bone makes good soup. But if you had a grinder burger would be a good way to deal with other odd cuts of meat a human carcass would glean. With that in mind cleaning the intestines would be an excellent idea since you would be able to make sausage also. Hopefully you would have an abundance of salt to preserve your culinary bounty. If not, then it would behoove you to smoke all the meat for preservation sake. There is debate in some circles as to whether red or white wine should be served with LP. In this instance its rule of thumb that red wine should be served since in all actuality LP is a red meat. A vintage Cabernet Sauvignon would be nice. Side dishes are subject to tastes but if you had side dishes in the first place Uncle Otis would not be on the table. Spices are spices so season to taste and hopefully you packed a couple bottles of garlic salt in your survival pack. Just remember to cook until well done because LP may get you sick if served under cooked like other pork products.

 

There are other factors to consider as well. Is there water handy? If not and there is no possibility of finding any, you will soon be dead along side Uncle Otis within a week or so even if you drank his urine and blood. Thirst would trump hunger as dehydration turned your flesh into jerky. Delirium would set in well before you ever got hungry enough to stick a fork into Uncle Otis. Madness would ensue as your system shut down. Death would become your liberator. Worse yet, you are captured by others that enjoy the taste of LP who promptly tosses you on a make shift rotisserie. No salt, no pepper, not even a sprig of parsley. You are roasted alive without a hint of seasoning. How barbaric could it possibly be? Just to add insult to injury your captures would dine on your char broiled essence while drinking a poor quality pilsner beer. Have they no shame?

 

Seasoned or unseasoned there is no question that cannibalism is on the rise around the world. Starvation leads to desperation and cannibalism has taken on a new dimension in this era. Ritualistic cannibalism has gone off the charts as well. This is more ghoulishly macabre by design since it’s not about consuming human flesh for survival; it’s more about consuming people because you like it or some bonehead spirit told you to. The consumption of human fetuses for ritual or virility in stews and stir-fry crosses all continents. The scent of placenta soup still wafts in the air of some old world communities after a child is born. Would feeding fat Burmese babies to leeches in vats of water be considered a form of cannibalism if people ate the leeches?

 

One such restaurant in Thailand specialized in meals prepared with leeches. Burmese soldiers sell infants to Thai human traffickers who in turn sell plump healthy infants to restaurateurs. The restaurateurs fatten up the child then placed them in vats so the leeches can suck the rich milk fed blood from the infant’s veins. The leeches would get fat and juicy then the chef would pluck one out of the baby/water mixture and into a wok filled with spices, vegetables and shrimp paste. To the joy of exotic food aficionados their dining experience would be complete with a piping hot plate of steamed rice and succulent leeches in its own sauce. The leeches would be semi sweet from milk fat yet maintain their musky and savory leech flavor through the ginger onions, garlic and tamarind. So back to my moral dilemma, if the leeches are full of human baby blood when they are cooked and served would the person who ate the leeches be a cannibal? Would the diner be more of a cannibal if they knowingly ate leeches filled with baby blood? It is alleged General Than Shwe of Burma has taken part in sacrificial rituals involving the consumption of human flesh on more than one occasion. Ritual murder and cannibalism has become a military terror tactic for this criminal regime as well. Shwe is not the only one who practices this dark ritual, not by a long shot. Supermodel Naomi “Blood Diamonds” Campbell’s sweetie, Charles Taylor of Liberia comes to mind though I doubt Shwe or Taylor dined on leeches filled with baby blood.

 

If it were not for the fact I heard these eyewitness accounts from Christian missionaries and Karen refugees I would not have fathomed this reality. But after visiting and interviewing the survivors of Burma’s blood soaked regime it became clear torture and death was an excepted part of their normality. The only way to cope with the vivid images of gore from disemboweled bodies hung along pathways or to witness loved ones being butchered to death by a crowd of laughing sadistic soldiers is to raise the bar in what is perceived as sane. If not, a person would surely go mad from all the cruelty they endure. Many of my Asian friends barely raise an eye brow during at bloody western horror movie. In reality they experienced much worse from barbaric soldiers before they came to America. Ritual cannibalism committed by Burmese soldiers was not a surprise revelation. In fact ritual cannibalism is more common than people think and it’s being performed on every continent, well maybe not Antarctica. From India and the followers of Kali to the USA and the secret sects that roam the countryside, LP is on the menu. Maybe next time someone offers you some home made blood sausage you’ll think twice. Toss in a Kaiser roll some sour kraut and mustard, oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.

 

 

In closing, eating people is not cool, generally speaking. Under the right conditions having a filet of Fred or a side of Sidney can save your life in the most extreme of conditions. If you have to eat Uncle Otis the right seasoning and preparation will make the most of your cannibalistic culinary adventure. After all, it’s not your fault you are starving to death. So make the best out of a bad situation with a Cotesdeporc Charcutiere au Otis and a wine of your choosing. Just so you know, eating your neighbors is illegal in most Canadian Provinces though I am not sure about Quebec. It is anybody’s guess in America since politicians are known to eat their young. But if for some reason your fridge is packed with LP chops and steaks now, you may be in need of an attorney. Ritual, fetish or simply because you enjoy the taste of human flesh is no excuse for cannibalism. The exception to the rule is if you’re one of the forgotten millions of homeless and starving people around the globe, bon appétit.

 

Your Devil’s Advocate

Buffalohair

This entry was posted on October 9, 2010 at 7:40 pm and is filed under Reflets Sombres with tags , , , , , , , , .

Learn how to ride a horse

Blog Entry learn how to ride a horse Nov 26, ’08 11:03 PM
by Ann for everyone
A priest decided he wanted to learn how to ride a horse so he asked one of his Native friends in a nearby reserve to teach him. The Native agreed and off they went. The priest soon learned how to get on the horse but was confused as to how to make it go. The Native guy said “just say Alleluia” so the priest did and the horse began to trot around. The priest said “how do I make it go faster?” The Native guy said “say Alleluia, Alleluia”. So he tried and sure enough the horse went faster. One more time and the horse took off, running like a race horse. The priest saw a cliff up ahead and yelled how do I make it stop and the Native guy said “Whooa” So the priest said “whoooa” and the horse screeched to a stop right at the end of the cliff. The priest wiped his forehead, relieved and yelled “Alleluia”!  
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YOU HAVE TO LOVE INDIAN WOMEN ……….

Blog Entry YOU HAVE TO LOVE INDIAN WOMEN ………. Nov 26, ’08 11:05 PM
by Ann for everyone

YOU HAVE TO LOVE INDIAN WOMEN ……….

  • for their ability to play rez ball, take care of 20 kids, and manage to make sandwiches at the same time when at a basketball tournament.

  • for any reason to say “Aye!” at the end of a joke.

  • for their ability to cram 20 people in one room at the Super 8 motel during a powwow.

  • for their ability to make commodity food taste like a 4-star culinary feast.

  • for their ability to make those breakfast/lunch/dinner burritos that we all love so much.

  • for their ability to expertly point with their lips at that fine grass dancer with the long braids.

  • for their ability to make a rez car look good.

  • for the ability to change a tire, the oil, a spark plug, or anything on the car.

  • for those little hairs that always seem to stick up no matter how much hairspray applied.

  • for their ability to work wonders with bailing wire and, of course, duct tape!!

  • for their ability to keep sweat pants fashionable no matter what occasion.

  • for their ability to make that all-tourney t-shirt and shorts into the one and only Indian “swimsuit.”

  • for their ability to stay out all Friday night at the Indian casino and still hit the early Saturday morning yard sales.

  • for their ability to lead all the round dance songs at Gathering’s 49.

  • for their tendency to want to bead every clothing item of the entire family.

  • for their ability to give one “look” at their man to shut him up.

  • for her ability to go to the store with those infamous pink rollers in her hair with not one hint of embarrassment.

  • for their ability to pee on the road side or behind any shrub no matter how small.

  • for their ability to somehow get her husband to ask for some of his money out of his own paycheck.

  • and last but not least for their wonderful ability to sneak 10 extra drumsticks of chicken and biscuits into their Tupperware from the buffet in town to later feed the family.

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Rick Dakotah, The Author /2007

Rick Dakotah, The Author

October 17th, 2007 by admin

rick dakotahSince I’ve met Rick I’ve been introduced to a wonderfully gifted self made artist. He forged   his own path to stardom and became a  world-class musician who dazzles crowds the world over with his music. A man for  all seasons, Rick mastered every musical instrument he picked up. He is truly a   musical prodigy at the very least. Then  I discover Rick is also a wonderfully talented writer and artist as well. His love of the arts and beauty is apparent in his literary endeavor with Artwork, an earlier release, and now Thoughts and Images.

After reviewing Artwork  and Thoughts and Images  it’s apparent to me Rick Dakotah is more a diamond with many facets all of equal majesty, beauty and excellence. Though he was raised within the sophisticated venues of England, the Native perspective still shines through the facade tea and crumpets. His first love is music but his second passion is art from any genre he chances to endeavor it would appear. His ability to lean any musical instrument as needed is only a reflection of his ability to pickup a pen, paint brush or camera and evolve a masterpiece that has delighted fans worldwide for years.

The arts will take you into the world of interpretation since these drawings are inspired and complemented his music over the years. Art is the window to the soul and art is a very real part of Rick Dakotah’s spirit. There is a part of Rick in everything he creates and it offers a view of his persona.

Thoughts and Images  is yet another glimpse into the soul of this remarkable human being. With poems and lyrics of his own design you get yet another view of this mysterious and reclusive artist.  He is a driven man, driven to achieve and accomplish goals that were once left for others. He refused to be typecast even within the world of art and truly has spread his wings.

But there is more to this story since it’s not just all about books or music. It’s also an inspiration to other Natives who have been pigeon-holed and typecast in all genres of the entertainment and art world. After all he was Ojibwa when he was adopted out of this country and raised in Jolly Old England. Though he was multi-talented he was rejected because he was not Indian enough. Guess full blood Ojibwa is not Indian enough eh. With doors closing all around him he decided to make a go of it alone and would not except failure. The only formal education he received in the music world was from the University of Hard Knocks as others tried to fit him into their mold. Rick made his own door and he is the only one with the key.

thoughts and images  artwork

Rick bares the same scars as the rest of us since he faced the same prejudices in the entertainment world. He had his struggles with the BIA as well. Again, Rick utilized this opportunity to forge a trail that few ever walk. It’s called the road to success and to coin a phrase from ole Blue Eyes, “and he did it his way”.

Gads, if he decided to become a hard bitten journalist and commentator I’m toast eh. I can see it now as I pull up to the parking lot of NativeVue. There will sit my pocket protector, my duct tape encrusted computer and my Tim Horton’s coffee mug with a note, “Sorry old chap, pip pip and all that rot, ……………..Rick”. There will be Carole and Rick in the penthouse flinging my CD’s and DVD’s out the window like they were Frisbees. They will be wolfing down my stash of Snickers bars as they laugh shamelessly.  And there will be my sister Ann shooting skeet as my life’s work literally goes out the window. Good shot Ann, holay!

http://www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/99039

Buffalohair

Posted in BUFFALOhair – Somewhere between sanity and dementia, Featured Articles |

I Have Never Hunted Buffalo, But I’ve Had Their Wings…Drew Hayden Taylor’s “I AM ABORIGINAL”

 

I Have Never Hunted Buffalo, But I’ve Had Their Wings…Drew Hayden Taylor’s “I AM ABORIGINAL”

September 30th, 2006 by admin

Drew Hayden Taylor is THE MAN when it comes to thinking, talking, and writing writing writing about Native humor. He’s written 17 books, has had 75 productions of his plays, directed a documentary, Redskins, Tricksters and Puppy Stew, finished his first novel to come out next year, and has just completed a comedy pilot for Canadian television called Mixed Blessings.

We will be having an upcoming feature where Drew talks talks about what Native humor is, what it means, and why it is so damned funny. But, before we wax academic, let’s share a few laughs. Drew Taylor style…

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I AM ABORIGINAL

At a pow wow recently I saw a native person walking the grounds wearing one of those, “I AM CANADIAN” t-shirts that are so popular these days, several years after the similarly popular television commercial of the same topic. On the shirt were a series of pithy and semi-humourous observations about the Canadian lifestyle, as opposed to the American way of life.

Yet, most First Nations people would argue that they are first and foremost (insert own First Nations here) before they are Canadian as a matter of Indigenous pride. Except of course, when traveling abroad. In places like China and Cuba, when I say I’m Ojibway, I get blank stares. “Canadian” cuts the explanations down quite considerably.

So, in order to achieve a kind of cultural pride parity, I would like to substitute this humble alternative for the “I AM CANADIAN” t-shirt campaign.

I have a dreamcatcher but it was given to me by a white person.

I do not own a canoe but I know somebody who does.

I have lived here forever but only been citizen since 1960.

I’ve never rubbed noses as a sign of affection but I’d be more than willing to try.

I do not personally have a land claim but I have not ruled out the possibility.

I have enjoyed watching Graham Greene on television and reading the other Graham Greene’s novels.

I have lived on the reserve and in the city.

I watch APTN and CNN.

I am Ojibway/Cree/Iroquois/Haida/Inuit/etc. but I am also Canadian.

I personally have never worn buckskin but I do support that indigenous right.

I am not from India but I do like their food.

I am better with a video game than a bow and arrow.

Contrary to popular belief, I do pay taxes and like you, I find it annoying.

I was at Oka, if not in body then in spirit.

I have ridden a horse, if not in body then in spirit.

My great great grandmother was part white but that doesn’t change anything.

I have never hunted buffalo but I’ve had their wings.

Contrary to popular belief I prefer my baloney raw, not fried.

I love going to a pow wow as much as I love going to a hockey game.

I am glad you had a Native friend once but I’m sorry, I do not know all of the approximately one million people of Aboriginal heritage in Canada.

Yes I have seen Dances With Wolves but it is not my favourite movie.

I drive a Chevy pickup, a Ford Escort,  Kia Sportage, a Hyandai Tucson, and a Kawasaki.

I listen to country music, rock, rap, blues and opera.

I have blonde/brown/black/red/grey hair.

I have a university degree.

I own my own house, and it is not a teepee.

I AM ABORIGINAL.

Copyright 2006 Drew Hayden Taylor

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Drew Hayden Taylor’s books can be purchased on Amazon-Canada and www.goodminds.com

Official website: www.drewhaydentaylor.com

Posted in Featured Articles, Indie-pendent Vue, What’s So Funny…Native Humor |