This must sound unusual coming from me, someone who at 18 learned how to fire, clean, disassemble and reassemble a variety of assault rifles "under the gun;" who can fire RPGs and Stinger missiles with the best of them; and who was barefoot and pregnant running through the Everglades, firing over her shoulder at attacking Army Rangers. But the above ad is so ugly and divisive, I have to speak out. If you read Book 2 of my life, you know we-- the New Seminole-- stood our ground against overwhelming odds, i.e., we fought back, killing soldiers and shooting down F-16's over the Everglades. Unlike the NRA, we actually had an enemy and we were armed to defend ourselves. The only enemy America has "from California to the New York Island" is itself and lock and loading up isn't the answer-- unless, of course, you want to commit cultural suicide, something it's already doing in the natural world with its portion of Gaia. Not that I should care but despite everything I believe in as a "card carrying member of the NS," I do care. Holding up now in the Miccosukee Embassy seeking sanctuary and having given birth to Haalie who miraculously survived that midnight attack in the Everglades while still in my womb, has given me a different perspective on "The Cause." I want us to co-exist. I want Haalie to grow up in a loving, caring America; something that looks like will never happen as long as we have the NRA preaching fear so America can arm itself to the teeth. In the words of the founder of the NS and my father-in-law, Busimanolotome Osceola, "dark energy-- that stuff between the atoms and the stars-- which is, as you know, really irony-- is having its way with America." Sadly, I'm beginning to think it is.
Gotta love it. Earlier I posted that it was up to us to prevent forest fires because the Liar in Chief and his wild-eyed Repugnicant cronies were defunding a long held tradition of helping Smokey stop forest fires. Now Tom Hanks has joined the Resistance to the Madness. Gotta dig his tee. If you buy one, ALL profits go to supporting the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC). You can get yours here: https://goo.gl/NQYL4g
Thanks to the Liar-in-Chief and his wild-eyed cut throat minions, it's really up to us. Of course, it always was, but now the wilderness is truly up for grabs by Nature and Man. The "Custodian" has left the room. Good luck to us all.
The picture above shows not much has happened between 1870 and today re our respect for Gaia. Although ignorant yahoos aren't shooting buffaloes from passing trains anymore, our new government has taken it upon itself to take up where they left off with a more devastating tool: a pen. Trump is currently running roughshod over a hundred years of laws to protect our flora and fauna with his gleeful signing of legislation to open up our national parks and monuments to the greedy bastards on Wall Street. As an example, his wild-eyed Interior Secretary Ryan Zinke seems to be on a Presidential butt-kissing effort to please his master by gutting protections on the Bears Ears National Monument in Utah. But this is just one of many proposals to destroy the protections for all of our National Monuments. It is estimated that if Trump gets his way, over a billion acres of land are up for exploitation by Big Oil and others. If this makes you sick and you want to do something about it, the easiest and safest way is to support groups like Friends of the Earth Action by donating what you can to The Cause.
If the New Seminole had their own couture, it would be House of Malakai (HOM). It is so NS. I am just diggin' this porcupine quill ear spike. The designer mAlAkAi works in an aesthetic that talks to me and talks for me. Too bad I can't afford any of his works but that doesn't mean I can't be inspired by it and create some stuff on my own.
I want to believe they have gone into hiding until the next election cycle.
According the the North American Butterfly Association it's getting more difficult with each passing year to find butterflies to count. Especially down here. According to a Miami Herald article, Florida "has the highest concentration of threatened butterflies" in the country. This is primarily due to climate change and the loss of habitat (either through climate change, i.e., sea levels rising into habitat, or development).
Nokosee told me once about the time he was a kid sleeping on a chickee floor hidden in a camouflaged hammock deep in the Everglades. He woke to a gorgeous blue butterfly dancing on his nose. He took it as a sign-- he's always looking for "synchronicity"*-- his "I read books" word for what his dad would have called an "omen."
I'm looking for both for our daughter Haalie. I want her to wake up one morning with a butterfly dancing on her nose and will see it as a scientifically proven omen that things are getting better.
For those who want to creatively bring attention to the butterflies-- and our-- plight (because one is connected to the other), please consider "putting on a show" using the free 10-minute family-friendly play called "Where is Bartram?"
*A word whipped up by shrink Carl Jung and physicist and Nobel laureate Wolfgang Pauli which attempted to meld the new discoveries of subatomic physics with psychology. Basically events have "meaningful coincidences" if they occur with no causal relationship yet seem to be meaningfully related.
That's Beiging, not Binging. Although much of America may be binging on beiging as this book and others suggest. The Beiging of America comes out this month and is inspired by a 2009 The Atlantic article by cultural critic/scholar Hua Hsu titled "The End of White America." My Native American bad boy/half-breed/he-man husband Nokosee, already a mixture of Seminole and Cuban, is the father of our little girl Haalie. I like to think she got the best of both parents' gene pools. That picture of her was taken when she was trying to look like her mom on one of mom's "Let's be New Seminoles!" days at the Miccosukee Embassy. That "mood paint" followed the real tears down her chubby little cheeks after she started crying when I got some of the face paint in her eyes. I made the mistake of following the tracks of her tears with face paint which made her cry even more because she didn't like being thought of as a cry baby. Even after showing her a chief with something that looked like tears, she hated them. Anyway, before washing them off, I took that picture-- which she hates with equal passion. Hopefully she will be accepted better than I have been by many of the pure members of the 500 Nations because it ain't easy being blue and blonde in a brown and black world. I suspect she'll do okay though because “the times they are a changin'" and she's got her ma and pa's mojo.
"I look forward to our next conversation."
This is how the Narrator/Tree ends this short homage to trees. If you have read my books and my blog posts, you know trees play a major part in my life. In the Everglades, my favorite tree is the gumbo limbo. It's where I go to read, be alone, think, and occasionally make love to Nokosee. And considering how many times we did it up in the trees while on the run from Uncle Sam's big bad army, it's very likely our baby Haalie was conceived there too.
Hermann Hesse calls trees the "most penetrating of preachers." They remind us of eternity and the mystery of life by their presence alone. Fight for them. Saving a tree is saving the world.
Trump's withdrawal from the Paris Climate Accord is emblematic of a deeper darker picture of America: it harbors an ugly strain of mankind who is selfish and self-absorbed, who has put itself first above all others in order to acquire things to keep it happy. This warped "pursuit of happiness" at the expense of others can be seen in the picture above. That is just one beach of hundreds spoiled over Spring Break by college students suffering another American malady: arrested development. To paraphrase that wise philosopher Pogo, "The world has met the enemy and it is America."
Holatte-Sutv Turwv Osceola.