I truly despise the American west. Well, not the actual American west… The fictional west. The west where John Wayne defended settlers from savage Indians, and where Mormons proudly conquered the un-tamable desert.
In fifth grade our school trip was to visit the site of the Sand Creek Massacre. In case you’re not up on this event, in 1864 a force of 700 Colorado militiamen attacked and slaughtered 150 Native Americans. Two-thirds of who were women and children. My fifth grade teacher quoted the Colonel in command,
Damn any man who sympathizes with Indians! …I have come to
kill Indians, and believe it is right and honorable to use any means
under God’s heave to kill Indians.
If I knew the term “royal ass-hat douche bag” I would of called my teacher this, with his prideful smirk, after reading this quote to the class. This lesson of having a warmongering lack of compassion for your fellow human, has stuck with me all my life. Making me the bleeding heart liberal I am today. The story of taming the west is actually a story of systematically destroying a part of the planet. Systematically wiping a culture off the earth all for big business.
You may ask why am I going off on this anti-west tirade today? Well, I’m taking an American History class this semester. It is taught by a tiny gay man that started last class on how the native peoples, who lived on the land in the west for thousands of years, were hunted down and wiped out like a ghetto in Poland. What? I was dumbstruck. A professor whose lector doesn’t sound like my Father’s view of the world? Well… like my Dad always said; “Generally, you ain't learnin' nothing when your mouth's a-jawin.”
|Ironic that this is the picture|
hanging on the wall
above my toilet?
Favorite Cowboy book: The Man Who Fell in Love With the Moon Favorite Cowboy line: “I speak horse. His name is Susan. And he wants you to respect his life choices.”