That's right, the NS has a theme song. Doesn't every tribe?

Ours was the choice of NS founder Busimanolotome Osceola, aka Busi, my father-in-law. If you read my books you know no one second guessed "dad" so there never was any debate about its appropriateness-- if you read my books, you'll also know the NS never had a problem appropriating anything from the Outside if it made our lives living on the run in the swamp easier.  Aside from its opening drum number, a Hollywood cliche since the first "soundies," there isn't anything "Native" about it. Composed by some Brits around 1960, Busi claims it was the first 45 rock record he ever owned.  I think one of the things he liked about the song was an early music video of The Shadows playing the instrumental. According to Wikipedia, they were influential in creating the concept of a rock band, ie, 4 musicians (lead guitar, rhythm guitar, bass guitar and drums) to deliver the goods. They also helped create the "look" of rock and roll, especially the bass player who, wearing a black leather motorcycle jacket, is seen sticking his smoking cigarette between the strings of his guitar so he can play and proceeds as if disconnected from the whole boring event. The imagery reminds me of an old George Romero zombie flick what with the lighting, its odd angles, and the black and white film.

Anyway it had a lasting impression on the Chief of the New Seminole, making him a rock n roll aficionado who made its music an integral part of the NS. Aside from my swamp wedding to Nokosee where Busi kidnapped a legendary rock band along Alligator Alley to perform at the reception, our "theme song" was played by our black bugler BoomBox from a boombox as we trekked through the swamp in what seemed like a neverending attempt to elude Uncle Sam's Army Rangers.   

Looking back, that music probably got us through it all because I can remember sloshing through the knee-high water snapping my fingers more than once-- and leading with my very pregnant 18-year-old belly and hips with Fosse-style jazz steps. (Yes, it helped to be a tad nuts and disconnected-- like the bass player up above-- to be a NS card-carrying-member.)

​Well, at least up to the Battle of Rendezvous Point deep in the Everglades where, for the most part, the NS were decimated and scattered to the four winds. 

While Australia burned, this young woman used chaos creatively. She was one of thousands protesting in the streets of Sydney for their government to acknowledge that there is a climate crisis going on. I see the sister I never had. 

I doan think so.

The NS were decimated at the Battle of Rendezvous Point deep in the Everglades. If they weren't killed they disappeared into the swamp, never to be seen by me or Nokosee again. 

Plus, from what I can gather, that "Old Native American Prophecy" shown above could be nothing more than "fakelore," the product of a creative reimagining between authors William Willoya and Vinson Brown in their book Warriors of the Rainbow published in 1962. According to the Wikipedia article, Bob Hunter, co-founder of Greenpeace, was inspired by it, later christening three Greenpeace ships Rainbow Warrior.

But, I can see how it could easily be mistaken for the real thing, ie, a Native American prophecy.

I can also see how Brown, a white evangelical Christian who is also the publisher-- would use the "prophesying" material gathered from many tribes by Willoya (an "Alaskan Indian") to evangelize the tribes.  In the book,  the "prophecies" are used to bolster the New Testament prophecies of the Second Coming of Christ. Critics have described it as pushing a "covert anti-Semitism throughout, while evangelizing against traditional Native American spirituality."

So in that case, the NS definitely  aren't those Warriors of the Rainbow. 

But we are (or were) a mixture of races and faiths as the picture from my wedding day shows as some of us gathered together beneath our own reimagination of the American Indian Movement flag against a backdrop of the ever-burning Everglades. 

Since doing Sanctuary at the Miccosukee Embassy I've discovered this online service from The Universe which kindly drops encouraging free messages in my morning email box. I thought today's little nugget was especially personal since I've had a long association with trees. 

And yes, I know trees as sentient beings. But I still have a problem with a pre-Gaia life. Still, it's nice to get these Notes From The Universe with its underlying message that "thoughts are things" and I highly recommend them to you.

In 1963 Johnny Cash had two major hits: "When I Walk The Line" and "Ring of Fire." But a year later when he tried to get airplay on what could arguably be called the first "concept album," few if any radio stations would play any songs from "Bitter Tears: Ballads of the American Indian." According to Stephen Pevar of the ACLU, "When Cash learned of all the opposition, he made it his mission to get the record out there. He bought back thousands of copies of the record, penned a protest letter that he placed as an ad in Billboard magazine, stuffed the letter inside each record, and traveled around the country hand delivering the record to radio stations and asking them to give it a chance. A line from the opening paragraph from the letter says it all: 'DJs, station managers, owners, etc., where are your guts?'”

One of those songs called "Drums" inspired the picture above.  I believe those "drums beyond the mountain" are beaten by the New Seminole, their sound rising with the smoke from the burning Everglades. 

To read the inspiring article and to understand the times Cash lived in (which sadly aren't that much different from today since the rise of Trump and his Repug enablers), please click here. 

I think about my time in the Everglades far from city lights when I could look up and see the Milky Way. Nokosee was there with me and we held each other in the dark and mostly silent world of the New Seminole. Aside from the occasional sounds of mosquitos buzzing by my ears there was nothing to remind me I was standing on Sagan's "pale blue dot." Or in the distant horizon that the Everglades was on fire and Army Rangers were zeroing in on us. I was pregnant at that time with Haalie and thought I'd die before I could give her life, shot dead by an Mk46.

Until that existential moment with Nokosee when I was at peace looking up at the stars, hand-in-hand with the man I love.

Now Haalie and I do Sanctuary in the Miccosukee Embassy in Miami and I find myself looking out of its floor-to-ceiling windows up at the night sky thinking of Nokosee and me back in the Everglades on that special night.

And Carl Sagan and his description of Earth as that "pale blue dot" in the cosmos, reminding us that there is nowhere else to our knowledge that harbors life.

Now when I look up at the night sky, I wonder whether or not we will be able to save Gaia in time; if the powerful will listen and act on Greta's warnings; or will they continue to ignore them leaving us only the most desperate alternative, the one that decimated the New Seminole: armed revolt.​

The video is worth a watch because, as Dr. Carter reminds us with science and stats, "We're on a trend to total planetary catastrophe."

The question is then, if scientists and people protesting in the streets will be ignored, what should we do? How do we get the attention Gaia needs-- we need-- to continue living? The New Seminole tried people-friendly eco terrorism on the systems (not people). It didn't work. We were crushed by an overwhelming military force and I'm doing Sanctuary at the Miccosukee Embassy in Miami because of it.

​So, are there any other suggestions? I suspect the fast approaching apocalypse will answer that question and its desperate solutions won't be pretty.

​Update 12/14/2019: COP 25 was a failure (see below). So, how is your non-violent approach working so far? You can click here to read the article.

Shrinks have been telling me the opposite for years. Good to hear MLK advocates this way of life. 

Of course, he wants us to be non-violent, too. At the time, it seemed like the thing to do, you know, defending ourselves by any means necessary. Getting arrested and thrown into jail would have slowed up the process of saving Gaia-- well, at least the Everglades. 

Thank goodness, Greta is here. God protect her.

 The Nobel committee may not have gotten it right but the Time editors surely did. Congratulations, Greta, at just 16, you are the youngest ever to receive that honor.  Below is 1-minute of her COP address. It is jam packed with hope, thoughts on democracy, and the power of people and their "public opinion" to make the world a better place for all living things. The Time article is a must read, too, since it chronicles her life since she was "discovered" 16-short months ago and changed the world.