Michael "Hawk" Spisak's Blog

They're baaack.........as if They ever left. I assume its that time again. Time to write. Shit. Yes, I enjoy writing...when I'm done writing. The process itself drives me up a wall. Being a writer or an artist of any persuasion is arduous and excruciating. It has been said the best writers are those who write from experience. That's a fancy way of saying here is my trauma, lets play with it together.

One of the things that simply annoys the hell out of me is the perception most assume when they discover I am responsible for an altar. Not one I made up but one that I was given responsibility for by the Ancients, by the Ancestors. Being responsible for an altar does not make me a monk, a shaman, a holy person or a medicine person. It simply makes my experience as a human that much more difficult. I remain a person with feelings and emotions like anyone else. Just as human as the next person. I cant fly and I don't have any magic powers. The power is in the altar and those who come with it. All I am is the caretaker of it.

One of the more interesting components of being responsible for this altar, at least in my mind, is that I am used from time to time to teach someone an important life lesson. This very thing just occurred. A young man, all of 14, in his adolescent ignorance, questioned my honor, my integrity and called me a liar. Obviously my first response, my human response, was to become infuriated. Hold on here we're dealing with 14 year old boy on his way to becoming a man. This was a valuable life lesson he needed to learn and if the Ancestors want to use me to teach it to him so be it. As an adult if he were to conduct himself in such a manner and call someone a liar to their face he would just as likely get punched in the mouth. This way, through me, maybe he will get this lesson early and avoid a busted lip.

This whole mess started with another young man who has his panties in a knot because I refuse to honor his flag. The american flag. He is in his early twenties and serving in the National Guard. His thoughts are that I must honor the american flag because I am a vet and on disability. As a man of honor, of integrity, when I saw him last night I invited him into my home to address this issue. If there is a problem you can guarantee I'm coming to you, face to face, to address and hopefully rectify this problem...as men. He, however, has no interest in discussing this conflict. Not with his train of thought and beliefs. He fully believes and is utterly convinced he is absolutely correct and I have somehow attained the status of traitor and dead beat sucking off the government. He then proceeded to stomp out of my home but not before dispensing a thinly veiled threat. At first I was exceptionally angry but the Ancestors reminded me there was a lesson there. For him, for me, for several others. That lesson is for healing, in some shape or form. Regardless the pain I may suffer what transpires will heal in a good way. Coming to that understanding I allowed my anger dissipate.

There are two problems with the issues and stance he is taking. First off, I am not sucking off the government. If you look at your paycheck you will see a list of deductions. One of those deductions is social security. That's right, you pay for it out every paycheck. Its a savings account set up by the federal government to provide you a retirement income or in the worst case something catastrophic occurs and you become disabled. Social security is not an entitlement or benefit. It isn't welfare. Its your money and you are allotted a portion of that money when you need it.

The second thing is this flag. Yes, I am a veteran of the armed services. The Navy to be exact. The largest sector of minorities to serve in the military are First Nations men and women. We are fighting for our country. Our country. We fight under your flag not for it. There is a huge difference between the two and if I have to explain that difference you will never understand it. Would you ask the NAACP to fly the Confederate battle flag? Would you ask the Jewish people to pledge allegiance to the swastika?

Remember, this is still our country. Occupied yes but still ours. We have been here for millennia, since the beginning of time. We have never left, never sailed to foreign lands to conquer and dominate. This country was never sold, it was invaded and if I need to defend my county under a foreign flag so be it.

Regardless the Nation all carry the same flag. I do not take offense to someone not honoring our flag, the eagle staff. From the Haudenosaunee in the east, the Choctaw in the south, the Kiowa in the west to the Anishinaabe in the north. In some form all honor the eagle as the most sacred. Those feathers, they are our battle honors. They are our colors. Our flag.

I understand many may not agree with my point of view and that's okay. This is simply my opinion. It doesn't mean you're right. It doesn't mean I'm wrong. It does mean we have a difference of opinion. I don't see the problem with that until your opinion becomes a belief. Beliefs are dangerous and can get a person killed. Best to keep things as an idea. An idea can be changed.

So, I respect your position on the flag if you choose to recognize it and pledge your allegiance to it. I don't and all I ask is the same respect for my position. I don't think I am asking too much. We are a different race of People, a different culture. Granted we may resemble you. After 500 years of occupation, intermarriage and assimilation of course we resemble you. However, we are not you.

Regardless how long this country has been occupied, regardless how long it remains occupied this will always be our country. Every step we take we walk on our Ancestors. Every drop of water we drink, every breath of air. We have never left and we never will. We will always defend this land regardless the flag we fight under to do so. First Nations People have fought under your flag since your ancestors came here. First Nations People will continue to fight under your flag. They will continue to die under your flag. But, it is under your flag, not for it.

Welcome to America where you leave your intelligence, honor and dignity at the door. Or if you were born here you have been privileged to grow up without it, all the while professing this is the greatest country on earth; just the bestest country ever! Do Americans actually believe their own history? There is gullible but this is ridiculous.

The history of this country is convoluted at best and appears to have been intentionally skewed to provide absolution. Anyone who has done some actual research could quickly arrive at the conclusion that the effort of research was futile. For those few willing to continue the mind-numbing journey many revelations abound – at a price. That price may be your soul and at a minimum your mind. Once the wizard is seen he can never be unseen, the truth never to be unknown.

Many like to believe and have been taught from grade school through the hallowed halls of Ivy League institutions that the Europeans sailed across the big blue ocean to rescue this country from oblivion. If it weren’t for this initial occupation the land, left to its own devices, would have rotted and died.

Forget the fact that this land was a paradise before they came here. If ever a place on earth resembled the christian Garden of Eden it was this continent. The people who lived here were healthy and strong. Disease couldn't find a foot hold; Elders lived to well past a hundred years of age. Battles between tribes were infrequent and individual behavior was dedicated to the welfare of the community. There was no need for greed, no dark desire for abuse.

In 15th century Europe life was a different story. Clothing, furniture and fur hats were required as the living natural resources of their countries had long since been eradicated. Little timber or wildlife remained and what managed to survive the rampage of total destruction belonged to the ruling monarchy. The common man survived by wit and grit although most didn’t which appeared to have been the point. The unspoken goal was to keep the population large enough to perform menial tasks but small enough to control so those in power would never have to experience something as undeserving as need.

To enforce rule organized religion was implemented as the law of the land. A self chosen few perverted a monotheistic ideology known of and practiced by very few. Old Gods and Goddesses were dethroned and a new vengeful Entity was installed to assume their positions of authority. Christianity suddenly became the accepted way of life.

All bowed before this new Emperor or suffered His wrath. To insure those who survived the fall of Rome understood the power this new Emperor wielded Hell was concocted. Those who did not declare immediate fealty to the new Emperor would not only suffer in this world for their lack of obedience they would also have the privilege to suffer eternally.

In accordance with the installment of the new Emperor only those who were divinely chosen could understand him. And, of course, only the divinely chosen decided who was divinely privileged to be divinely chosen. To maintain order and control they pummeled the populace into submission with intent and design. The pompous applied their religious convictions in the most opportune way, utterly convinced they knew because God told them.

Miscalculating the Puritan influence that theology was translated into what was spoken by the masses. Suddenly chaos reigned and catholicism was no longer the only doctrine. Many other interpretations of this one God theory arose and each demanded it was the correct interpretation – all with the common theme of hopelessness and eternal damnation unless one behaved according to the popular interpretation of the period, geographic region or community – all controlled by the absolute need to proselytize. The world at large simply had to know the good news. All of civilization must be brought to the bosom of their new Emperor Jesus Christ or risk eternal hellfire and damnation. The remaining creatures were subjugated and used as they saw fit with no comprehension or appreciation of the relationship between what was, what is and what will become.

The Puritans, as well as other right wing militant religious cults, thrown out of their countries for being annoying pains in the asses, made their way to the Americas, a vast land of plenty. One look at all that was here and they concluded God himself must have created this land just for them. Manifest Destiny fervently raised its ugly head and the Doctrine of Discovery became law.

One small problem, there were already people here. Well, in the eyes of the puritanical evangelists not really people but bipedal creatures that attempted to speak. Again,to the ignorant eyes of the blind proselytizers, there was no control, no order, no submission – and that simply would not do. Those lost souls had to know the love of their Emperor Jesus, capitalism, and proper distribution and use of natural resources in order to mimic some semblance of civilized. How fortunate that the invading christians were the people chosen by God to show them the way.

Murder, rape and torture were used to instill civility because God loved them. The christians loved them. If christians had to slaughter every last one of these unchurched people to develop that love well, that was God’s law. If they deemed it necessary they would use their holy book to beat these sad and lost human-like creatures into the proper prostrated position because Jesus died for them. If they didn’t know about Jesus how could they ever get to heaven? All on this continent were doomed to an eternal lake of fire. Thankfully the Puritan God and Jesus, in all their mercy, led these religious fanatics to the shores of these lost and bedraggled people and now they could be saved! Hallelujah and Praise God!

The thing is, had it not been for a chain of events years earlier the zealots would have had a much harder time quelling the heathen masses. Years before the religious fanatics arrived other white traders also traveled to these lands and commercial vessels sailed between continents. They traveled across the seas to this land and because so much existed here they plundered at their leisure. Amidst the plundering they spread a few things of their own like rampant disease and death. As in Europe the plague decimated most it came into contact with including the Narragansett, the Shinnecock and the Wampanoag to name a few. When the Pilgrims landed ghost villages were waiting. Homes were
already erected, streets were already cleared, crops were already harvested and stored for the winter. It was as though an entire town had been created and the larder stocked; the residents long since annihilated from unknown diseases such as bubonic plague, smallpox and leptospirosis. Their work done the Father, the Son and The Holy Ghost impatiently waited for the chosen few to arrive at Plymouth Rock.

Before the arrival of the European invaders a simple stroll a mere few hundred yards from home provided all that was necessary. With one well-placed rock dinner was served. Species of animal, fish and vegetable were incredibly abundant. All that could ever be needed at anytime was available whenever anyone required – much, much more than could ever be used. Fish so plentiful a hand dipped into a stream provided instant sustenance. There were bountiful furs to cover the body and structure to provide warmth from the bitter cold winter.

The implementation of capitalism quickly began to have a devastating effect but only after the original peoples,who had thrived here for millennia, revealed their secrets of survival to the master race. In the passage of less than a generation these original inhabitants were reduced to fighting over what remained and freezing to death – starvation became a way of life. Where once all had more than each could use now few had what could be acquired, the scraps left by God’s chosen people for the heathens to fight over. As wolves to a carcass they battled over what meat remained on the bones.

Eventually the nagging annoyance of living under the rule of monarchies so distant proved intolerable. The new Americans had no desire to live under the rule of any monarchy and men rose to assume power and to implement plans and plots. Looking to the Six Nations Confederacy they saw a new way of governing, the idea of democracy. The Indians of course weren’t using the concept correctly. How could they? They were only simple savages at best who were attempting something only those of proper European ancestry with solid christian morals could begin to comprehend.

As the invaders had thoroughly twisted their monotheistic belief the chosen few just as quickly perverted this idea of democracy. In the Six Nations Confederacy version there wasn’t one person with total authoritarian control and this appeared to be something the Europeans simply could not comprehend. Almost immediately democracy was no longer used as it was intended – that the Nation as a whole took precedence where those in positions of leadership lived in service to the people. The new polyarchy kept the words but true to form corrupted the intent. With massive egos the self-appointed assumed that leadership equaled power and they wielded that power with devastating results.

The indigenous people along the coastline were eradicated, removed or assimilated and the original thirteen colonies unified to secede from tyrannical control. Victory was attained and they were granted dominion over their fate. The new Americans won the war! Let freedom ring! They convinced themselves they had won the revolution yet somehow the entire western hemisphere was broken into three distinct pieces with each section speaking the language of the monarchies supposedly defeated. French in the north, English in the middle, Spanish in the south.

The original intention was to become individual countries within this vast country, replicating Europe in North America. Not one large country from sea to shining sea but an amalgamation of separate countries. Many of the conquered Indian Nations were encouraged to become countries of their own. The original inhabitants of this great land turned from more traditional means of living and accepted these new ideas of towns and capitalism, education and individual success. Countries emerged with names like Cherokee and the Haudenasaunee Country of the Six Confederated Tribes with what we now know as Texas to California being part of Mexico.

Inevitably the concept of countries within a country also proved to be intolerable. It appeared many of the Indian countries were unaware of proper commercial etiquette. Didn’t these people realize there was money to be made? What did a good christian man have to do to instruct these obviously ignorant savages on the proper use of existing natural resources to obtain wealth and power?

What remained of the tribes had benevolently been permitted to live on allotted portions of land and after such a display of generosity the remaining tribes weren’t behaving as they had been instructed. Something would have to be done about this. These savages simply did not seem competent enough to grasp the idea that one person must be all powerful and everyone else must be subservient – exactly like the religion the ruling class so fervently believed.

Among those who assumed power and control was one Andrew Jackson, elected as President in 1829. Mining was one of the president’s vast commercial interests and his surveyors found gold in the rich southern state of Georgia. As Jackson fully believed the only good Indian was a dead Indian it was a very small step to support kicking the Cherokee off their lands and taking the gold. Jackson personally found the very idea that Indians would attempt to live as white people to be an affront to everything he believed.

Eventually an explanation had to be offered for this genocidal behavior of the white man. A few misguided souls were spreading the idea that the unfortunate lost savages were God’s children as well and it wasn’t right to commit mass genocide. The Church searched for a way to appease the soul lest the soul be damned for this atrocious behavior. Looking to the map of the land drawn after years of plunder and decimation they perceived the proximity of Far Eastern lands with that of far Western America. The coast lines of what would eventually be known as Russia and Alaska were revealed to be so close. Eureka! An obvious solution was found as well as a biblical explanation for the most repulsive of behavior.

These people, the original inhabitants, overnight became the banished children of Cain. Due to their ungodly ancestors behavior they had been forced from paradise to wander lost and alone in the wilderness. Breeding among each other they crossed a bridge of ice and somehow found their way to this land of milk and honey; a land obviously created by the European God for the explicit use of good christian white men. These heathens were clearly trespassing where they did not belong.

These cretins weren’t simply souls lost to the grace and generosity of their all-loving God...these were Canaanites! These bipedal creatures weren’t human after all. They were animals pretending to be human. The good christian thing to do, the right christian thing to do was to slaughter them. Eradicate their very existence. This was after all what their God decreed and the more each individual killed the better christian they would become. The solution was not to explain the murder and genocide of a people but to justify it. It was God’s vengeance implemented by the descendants of Able as instructed in their good book. Their conscience appeased, with a leader like Andrew Jackson to back them, open season was declared on the remaining original peoples of the Americas.

Jackson was a steadfast proponent of Manifest Destiny and as far as he was concerned Indians were subhuman, nothing more than animals and every one of them should have been shot in the head. Indians had no privileges and certainly no rights. How could a people that weren’t even people be given rights? As far as Jackson was concerned these creatures were less than the blacks he bought and sold on his Tennessee estate. At least the black ones could be put to use to perform daily labors no white man should ever be expected to do. White men used their minds creating, organizing and distributing, not toiling in the hot sun. That was the place of the lower species, to perform the manual labor necessary for the machines to function and for the superior race to evolve.

Many an attempt had been made to have the Indians work the farms and fields but somehow the natives thought they were free to come and go as if they had free will and actually owned this vast continent. This was the new America by God, owned by those with the drive and initiative to carve out the future. The only will allotted to natives in Jackson's mind was the will to do as they were told or die. He would tolerate the first but indubitably preferred the second.

His ancestors, the founders of this country, had not fought and died for this great land so a bunch of Indians could create countries within the Country. As if it was even possible for them to create and manage a country of their own! Insanely they attempted to build towns and schools, invented newspapers and managed commercial interests. Ridiculously they actually believed they had the mental capacity to oversee such interests. How utterly absurd a notion! There were lands in these concocted countries white people needed. Farm land and pastures not used properly by the Indians – as well as gold.

The tribes fought back legally using the laws and ways of life they had adopted. Formally they presented themselves before the invading Americans insisting that they, the indigenous peoples of this land, were their own Sovereign entity and the Americans had no rights in their lands. They sued Jackson in his federal courts and won their suit. The newly established courts agreed with the Cherokee Nation that the president didn’t have the right to do what he wanted in a foreign country.

Jackson disagreed with his courts and promptly ignored the newly established laws. He disregarded the court of law in the new America, called up the militia and with command of the U.S. Cavalry invaded Cherokee Country taking what he wanted. He gathered all those native People and imprisoned them in stockades in Georgia. Jackson would have preferred to slaughter them all but he had to at least appear to be humane. He was the president after all. Compassionately Jackson waited for the onset of winter and when the snows began to fall the president’s cavalry marched his captives, many without so much as a blanket to keep their children warm, west beyond the Mississippi as far as they could be driven into what would become Oklahoma – full of scrub brush, cactus and sand. Thus was born the most horrific act ever perpetrated upon the southern indigenous people – The Trail of Tears.

One out of every five died along the journey and this action broke the Southern Confederated Tribes. Oklahoma became the new Indian Territory and with this decree Jackson had the native People all in one place where his heavy hand could maintain control. Drawing up a federal plan he placed them on allotted sections of land and ignored any tribal differences or grievances.

With this formula of eradication effectively instituted those in positions of power looked to the west. The natives who lived in those regions would also be subjugated and forced to walk thousands of miles to barely habitable lands. The Cheyenne and Arapahoe were massacred at Sand Creek and the Navajo suffered the Longest Walk. Then the new Americans invaded Mexico.

A couple of hundred years later and nothing has changed. The idea that Americans can go anywhere they want and take anything they want has compounded exponentially decade after decade. No longer continental this behavior has become global; the same repulsive behavior portrayed by every bully who ever existed.

It's not just about what “they” did those few generations ago it is about what is still being done – horrendous acts of genocide and destruction all in the name of freedom and religion. Society at large accepts acts of terrorism based on what they are told. The job of politicians is to spoon feed the populace whatever propaganda will appease them and convince general society they are correct in their actions as they arrogantly inform those they invade we are only killing you because we want to help you. We want you to be free so we are taking everything you own and will implement our way of life which is so much better.

The last empire that behaved like this was the Romans. For eight hundred years they maintained dominion over the world forcing everyone to bow before them as they pillaged and plundered. While Roman citizens bumbled blithely through their daily ministrations living the life of luxury the rest of the world suffered at the hands of their tyrannical Caesars. Eventually their behavior destroyed them and the Visigoths came knocking. The only question that remains is - when will the Visigoths come knocking at America’s door?

Recently a new patient found their way to see me. I never know when, or who, or how. The individual listens, even when they don't know they are listening, and winds up knocking at my door. Their intention for coming to see me is usually something benign, in his case to use the phone. What he didn't know was the need to use the phone was a pretense created by the Ancestors to get him in front of me. Makes me feel sorry for the little bastard. Then again, no, I don't.

He is a young man, in his early 30's and a drug addict. His euphoria of choice is provided by painkillers and heroin. When he was 12 he had an accident where he broke a few bones and, as his father is an addict as well, the pattern for his life was set. With his fathers help by the time he was 16 he was shooting junk into his veins. I guess his Dad needed a friend. Fifteen years later the kid is a wreck.

There have been several instances where he has gone for therapy. Many times he has sought rehabilitation and assistance in slaughtering the monkey that has found permanent residence on his back. Every attempt failed. So, the Ancients, in Their benevolence (insert heavy sarcasm here), sent him to me. Like I said, poor bastard.

All of his previous attempts to find a solution were through faith based organizations. Every one of them religious in context and intention. He was assured that through Jesus he would find his salvation. He was told that if he didn't get right with the Lord and stop his druggy ways he would be sent to Hell. To Hell. Fire and brimstone. Burn forever and ever. He was even coerced into digging his own grave, several times, as though the physical confrontation with his mortality would somehow scare him into the arms of his Redeemer. Yeah, that shit didn't work either. Instead of succumbing to their religious manipulations, all their proselytizing did was piss him off. It appears this young man has a mind of his own and actually uses his head for something other than a hat rack. Unlike most he possesses the ability to think for himself. He isn't going to be told what to do. He's a tough kid, always has been and he isn't afraid of a damn thing. His conclusion to their religious maliciousness was always a resounding, fuck you, you fucking fucks. If this bullshit you are trying to force feed me is reality you can keep it. He would create his own reality with a needle. Enter Clown Boy.

Over the next three days he returned for three to five hour clown immersion therapy sessions. By his own volition. I never went to find him, he just showed up at the door. Finally, reaching the point he needed to, he thanked me. Not for giving him answers. Not for demanding he adhere to a set of regulations, rules or expectations. He thanked me because I didn't give him any answers. What I gave him were questions. I forced him look into himself and find the answers on his own. What made sense to him, in a way he could understand. A way that permitted him to reach his conclusions as to what steps are necessary for him to accomplish what he wants to accomplish, getting clean and staying clean. As he left, his parting words were, "I'll try," thus opening the door to his final lesson. Trying. Basically a bullshit excuse someone makes up. Trying is simply an excuse to fail.

I've never tried to do a damn thing. I either did it, or I didn't. I kicked through the door and exclaimed, here I am! Now, lets get some shit done. Nor did I concern myself with acceptance. My existence is not contingent upon someone's acceptance of me. Life isn't a personality contest. It isn't a beauty pageant and I personally don't need anyone's permission or approval to do a son-of-a-bitching thing. I do what I feel I need to do to achieve what I feel I need to achieve. If someone doesn't like it they can leave. There's the door. Don't let it hit you where the good lord split you. And, I promise I wont miss you. The only time your name will come up in conversation is as an opportunity to ridicule you.

Something else I don't do. I don't rely on mystical creatures to assist me. I do not for one second believe I am so important that some altruistic entity is going to reach down and lend me a helping hand. Why would they? How self absorbed does one person have to be to believe that ration of horse shit? How delusional does one person need to be? Jesus aint coming back because he never existed in the first place. Ancient Gods aren't returning tomorrow to set things right. Aliens aren't invading, benevolently or malevolently. It's up to me.

This isn't to say the Ancients don't exist. They do. I am well aware They exist. I've seen Them, spoken with Them. I, however, am not arrogant enough to attempt to humanize Them. To give Them names or a form. If They choose to assist me They do so for Their purposes, not mine. All I am is a means to and end. An end I probably will never understand. An end I possibly will never know about.

Understand something, you simply aren't that important. Individually, yes, you matter. In all of time that ever was or ever will be, there has only been and will only ever be, one you. However, collectively, you are irrelevant. No more than a drop in the ocean. How much do you think the ocean misses one drop? How much of an effect on the ocean does removing one drop have? Exactly. Jesus isn't going to pay your bills. No mythical entity is going to buy you a car, a house or a boat. It wont win the lottery for you, bring back your ex or your kids or get you off the dope. You want something? You need something? Then do it. Get the fuck off your ass and do what you need to do to accomplish what you want to achieve. Don't "try," do it, and to hell with the consequences.

Also, so you fully understand, it's going to suck. There will be pain and there will probably be blood. You may even break something in the process. Then, when all is said and done, none of it may come to any fruition. It might all blow up in your face. But, maybe your efforts will have an impact on someone. Maybe your efforts will affect change in ways you have no understanding of. In all probability you may never know you had an affect and your knowing doesn't matter either. You did, and you accomplished. Or you didn't accomplish. Success is never guaranteed and failure isn't necessarily failure.

You are one small insignificant being in a vast reality your mind can't begin to comprehend. The choice is and always has been yours. However, because you have the potential to do something, because you can do something, doesn't necessarily mean you will and as long as you "try," you never will. You can be the drop in the ocean, displaced and dispersed with zero consequences or become a boulder and create some ripples. Hell, create a freaking tsunami.

Do whatever it is you feel you need to do. Make it happen, whatever "it" is, regardless what anyone has to say about it. The Ancients are there. They will guide you if They need to, if They want to. If what you are doing serves Their purpose. The only thing you have to NOT do, is "try."

Yesterday turned out to be a decent day. For a couple of hours, early in the afternoon, I was privileged to visit a young couple I recently met. In their late twenties and early thirties, respectively, they are what is commonly referred to as “good people.” She is like a little sister to me although I am old enough to be her father. Her husband, well, I just like him. He’s one of those people you just cant help but want to be friends with. Warm, inviting and easy going, its no bullshit, no lies, no manipulations. Like I said, good people.

Recently they became the proud proprietors of a local tavern. The typical redneck joint out the middle of nowhere where a person can go, have a beer and chill. Very much a relaxed atmosphere; as I heard described by a musician who performed one evening “like hanging out at a bon-fire.” With that said I’m sure the morally convinced, spiritually enlightened just got their panties in a twist. Yep, I visit a tavern occasionally and yes, I have a beer or two. If for some reason that upsets you might I suggest imagining my middle finger mere inches from your face? That is my only response to you. For those few who do know me and are concerned, know that your concern is appreciated but unnecessary. Yes, a beer or two. Hell, maybe three. But I am staying away from the hard stuff. I know full well exactly what I am and what will happen should I let that dog off the chain.

So I’m hanging out, visiting, drinking coffee and the conversation turns spiritual, as it is want to do about everywhere I go. I admit the spiritual was my motivation for visiting in the first place. They are just beginning to learn of the original instructions and I would like to see them do it right versus becoming mixed up in the new age mystical twinkie-ism so prevalent today. I dropped off some sweet grass and flat cedar and explained what they were for and how to use them. The conversation quickly digressed to me and my anti-social behavior. One would think, as the majority of my time is spent alone, I would endeavor to make myself more approachable. One would think. Those who know me know it is never going to happen. I’m like hugging a porcupine.

So what the hell is going on here? Am I intentionally seeking to put people off? Do I go out of my way to wind someone up? The simple answer is, yes, I am. However, it’s a bit more complicated than that. I don’t have to try nor do I have to go out of my way to achieve the state of confusion I so callously appear to infuse in every social situation. For me it comes natural. Its who I am. Its what I am.

That of course leads to the next obvious question. Who the hell am I? What the hell am I? Believe you me, those questions wore me out for years. I struggled for so long trying to come to some kind of conclusion about me. My mother abandoned me at a very young age and, although I wasn’t raised by wolves, I was raised by junk yard dogs. In my search for answers I eventually found myself hanging from the Tree of Life. Having the flesh torn from your body will answer those questions and many others. So let me share a few of those answers with you.

Reality, this plane of existence we live on, this form we have assumed to exist in this reality. Through your eyes you perceive maybe .01% of all that is around you. Compare this to the scent capabilities of a dog. The dogs sense of smell is 10,000,000 that of a human. That means they can smell what we mere humans cannot. Its there, what ever it is, we just don’t know it. The dog does, and this is the same with everything else. Just because you cant smell it, taste it, see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Which goes to say what you think you understand about this reality is miniscule as to what is actually happening all around you. Now, apply that understanding to everything else, including all you think you know about the spiritual.

So, back to who the hell do I think I am? Simply put, I am all you will never be and you should be grateful for that. I have been called an asshole, a bastard, a son of a bitch and the prodigy of Satan himself. Typically these assertions come from the religiously convinced and always from dominant society, regardless of race. The reason for this is the vast majority have no frame of reference for those like me, no context to compare me to. Therefore my behavior is labeled anti-social or evil, which of course leaves me laughing hysterically and finding that much more humor in what I do.

Is this something you could become? Yes, but why the hell would you? I meet many who believe that maybe, just maybe, they are like me. Maybe you are, I couldn’t say, but ask yourself very carefully, is this what you want to be? Dominant society presents things of this nature as romantic and mysterious. These connotations seem to be all that is necessary to invite others to delve deeper. I would suggest being exceptionally careful turning over those rocks. What exists under there will eat you. But, say you do. Say you want to. What’s the worst that could happen?

Well, to start with, say goodbye to your life. Those festive holiday gatherings with family? No more. Birthday celebrations and the coming together of family and friends? See ya! Sure, come to the dark side. There is plenty of room and everyone gets a mansion!…not.

What you get is the leftovers, the discarded, the unwanted. The castoffs will find their way to you. Everywhere you go you will be despised and assaulted. Everyone you know will abandon you. You will lose everything you have. No family, no friends. You will be alone and you will remain alone. You will have just enough to get you through but no more and barely will you have that. Oh sure, there will be a few dropped into your life who will assist you with what you need but even they will have their limits as to how much of you they can tolerate. So go ahead, answer that nagging invitation to join the other side of the fence. When your life blows up, and it will, you can find the person to blame at every available mirror.

This is in no way a bitch or a complaint about what I am, or what I do. I accept it, revel in it and find the hilarity in those who insist they know exactly what I am supposed to do and how I am supposed to do it. My acceptance makes things that much easier…for me. For those whose lives it is their unfortunate displeasure I am dropped into…not so much.

I understand the recipe for this existence is 99% order and 1% chaos. As beauty could not exist without ugly, up without down, clockwise could not exist without counter clockwise. These things must be or balance could never be achieved. So, there is your answer. To who I am, what I am.

I am chaos. Beer, anyone?

interview with BellaOnline editor Jacqueline Pina about Full Circle:

http://www.bellaonline.com/articles/a...

THE NEXT BIG THING

1. What is the working title of your book?

Full Circle
word count - 110,119
430 pages
Published by Silverbear Graphics
ISBN-13: 978-0984708796
ISBN-10: 0984708790
BISAC: Fiction / Historical


2. Where did the idea come from for the book?

My twisted little mind. I have had the idea for years. Ok, traveling back in time isn’t possible, but what about the descendants that are alive today. The sins of the father kind of thing.

3. What genre does your book fall under?

Fiction, History, Drama, Thriller

4. Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

It has been suggested Johnny Depp for the lead of Jackson Themal, but I think Jared Padelecki would do a great job also.

5. What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Burning, now I bring you hell.

6. Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Its self published for now. Hoping to get the attention of the big guys.

7. How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

Six weeks. Then another month and a half of editing.

8. What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

My work is a specific niche; Native American fiction. I’m not sure there is anything else out there like it.

9. Who or What inspired you to write this book?

The conditions and state of affairs with regards to First Nations People, actually all indigenous peoples worldwide.


10. What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

My novel speaks to the heart of many economical, political and social issues that affect First Nations People daily. It delves into the cause and effects and the repercussions because of. If the reader wants to know the truth about First Nations culture, ceremony and how we feel about things today, this will do it.

1. Lynny Prince
https://www.facebook.com/lynnyprince

2. Jennie Komp
https://www.facebook.com/jennie.komp

3. L.M. Jackson
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/...

4. Monette Bebow-Reinhard
https://www.facebook.com/mbebowrein


hard
Michael "Hawk" Spisak

I invite everyone to read the latest reviews of Full Circle at Amazon

http://www.amazon.com/Full-Circle-Mic...

Morning Relatives. Once again I get a call late in the evening from yet another member of the urban confused, so twisted and spun up they are frantic. Oh my god, so and so called me and told me blah blah blah and....and.....aaaaaaa! Next thing you know they are packing the sea shell with white sage, running around the house “smudging” EVERYTHING, including the pets, so sure of what the idjit told them. Really? I get you are confused. I completely understand your hunger for a connection the the spiritual. But this scenario? Remember the playground, when little Billy made up some goofy shit and you ran home so convinced, screaming and hollering, telling your parents and all who would listen about the big bad wolf, only to find out you had just been played? Take the above scenario and apply this understanding liberally. Because, at 30ish or 40ish, the same damn thing just happened.

There is something you need to understand. The above scenario would never happen from someone who really is. No medicine person, no real one, will ever call and inform you Spirit instructed them to contact you with some dire warning. Oh, they might know about it. It may have been shown to them. But they ain’t calling you. Ever. No tweets, no text. They wont contact you through Facebook and email. They keep what they know to themselves, waiting on you.

This is not a tribal specific understanding, it is an indigenous one. Across the board, regardless the Nation you may be descended from or affiliated with. Too many confuse religion and spirituality, and believe me, neither the two shall ever meet. There is no unification of the two, because the two are absolute polar opposites of each other. What some are doing is deifying an individual. Simply replacing the preacher with the medicine man. One person, in complete control, instructing you on everything you need to know to exist. As if they knew the answers. So many line up for their daily dose of delusion, and follow so willingly the direction of someone just as confused as they are.

It does not matter how thick headed, how bone headed you are. Regardless how devoid of any spiritual understanding you may be. Do you honestly believe They would have to go to a third person to tell you? Do you perceive Them as so weak They have to tell someone to tell you? The Ancestors, beings so old your mind simply has no capacity to understand Their age. If They want to speak to you, They will find a way to get through your knot head. Somehow, some way They will tell you what you need to know. Not through another person. Certainly not the fool who just called you on the phone and scared the crap out of you. That is an idiot who is feeding their own ego, convincing you of crap that has no more substance than what they are full of.

When They want you to know something, They will tell you. Personally. Specifically. To your face. Some how, some way, They will instruct you. If, when this happens, you do not understand what has been shown to you, this is when you contact the Elders and the Medicine People. If what has been shown to you has been shown to them, this is when they will tell you. The next step is to take what has been shown to you into ceremony. In this way they create a Sacred Place, bringing you before that which has spoken to you, in such a way as They can explain what They want you to know. The Medicine Person is simply there to facilitate. Basically, they are the telephone. You are dialing the person, to speak to Them. To provide clarity of what ever it is They want you to know. 

The next time some fool contacts you with “sacred knowledge you just have to have”, start laughing. Then show them the door. When the special ones call, or tweet, or email or whatever else goofy crap, hang up the phone or delete it. Then start laughing. The deluded depend on your confusion to feed their insanity. However, if you insist on feeding the ego of the small minded, allowing them the luxury of ruling your life, by all means, go right ahead. Believe the most outlandish of fairy tales. Strap that leash back on and permit them to drag you through their hallucination. Or, the next time someone presents themselves as “insert title here”, tell them to prove it. You might be amazed at what happens next. Or more precisely, what doesn’t happen.

Anyone else ever realize something and then realize everyone else already knows that? Somehow you managed to go through your whole life, oblivious to what appears obvious. Happens to me all the time. My presumption is, because I have been alone most of my life, with little to no, mostly no, parental or maternal guidance, I missed out on a whole lot of things most folks simply take for granted. With no elders to instruct or grandparents with the wisdom of years to share, I have been left to my own devices, trying to make sense of things apparently known to the rest of my cognitive species. Makes me wonder how I have made it to almost 50. Then I look around me and realize I'm not the only one. There are many more exactly like myself. Millions of us, clueless, bumbling through this existence, zero guidance offered or even available. I'm amazed we haven’t blown up the factory yet.

My mind being what it is, I simply cant just leave something alone. If something makes no sense, you can guarantee I will regurgitate it until it does. Or at least make sense to me. Never could simply accept anything. So what if it quacks like a duck, walks like a duck? Doesn’t mean its a duck. Might be a platypus. Rest assured, I will reach deep into that fount of unknowing and drag it to the surface, all wet and wiggling, and shake it and poke it until I'm damn sure its a duck. Or a platypus. I have this annoying tendency to use my head for something besides a hat rack. I admit, thinking for myself has landed me in the soup more than once. But I feel so much better about myself when I do. Yes, that was heavy sarcasm.

So here is one that has been slapping around in my cranium for a few decades. I've heard it numerous times, from thousands of sources, and it hasn’t added up. A medicine person, or a holy person, will never tell you they are. Will never admit to it. Okay, why? The common answer given is humility. The prevailing understanding that to hang a title on oneself immediately nullifies the position. Okay, that makes sense. Sort of. However, isn’t that redundant? If an individual is chosen to live such a responsibility, wouldn’t they first have to prove they are a humble person? How could an arrogant, self involved individual be tapped to fulfill such a demanding role? Granted, this makes the assumption that a) there is something more than what can be physically quantified and b) that something has a vested interest. Therefore, if that something does exist, and does have an interest, would that something not look for those who could live a humble existence, not interested in fame, fortune, titles and notoriety? Yes, there are many, especially today, who claim to be. However, even a cursory glance proves they are completely full of shit. Their claims are nothing more than delusions of grandeur; usually attempts at being what they wish they were, due mostly to lack of confidence and self esteem.

When you think about it, something doesn’t add up. Why wouldn’t someone admit to it, if they were? Not referring to those who think they are, but the real ones. It seems such a beautiful way to be. Granted, they aren’t broadcasting it to the high heavens, but if asked, why not smile a beatific smile and nod, exuding a knowing instantly perceived as true? A life spent in service to all of existence, giving completely of themselves, a life of total self sacrifice and altruism? Why are the real ones so damn surly? Whats with the cranky, go away you're annoying me attitude? Having traveled extensively, I have had the unfortunate displeasure of meeting a few real ones. By and large, they're assholes. Don’t get me wrong, they are great people. Warm, loving, caring, compassionate. Beautiful people really. But assholes. At the same time. Especially when it gets around to them doing what they do. What gives here? I come to you, supplicating, needing what you have been gifted, and you’re treating me like something you scraped off your shoe? The math makes no sense.

Well, try this on for size. You have a need, they have a way for that need to be satisfied. A healing, knowledge, direction. Whatever. But, for everything taken, something must be given. If nothing else, balance prevails. That law appears to be universal. I've seen it everywhere, in every situation. Regardless of where I have been or am, regardless the situation. Balance is always reasserting itself. The one unequivocal, undeniable truth. With that said, there then must be balance here to. When that logic is applied, things begin to make a little more sense. You need fixing. They can help. However, someone has to take it in the teeth. In other words, there is an ass whipping due. You are going to get the good stuff. They get the ass whipping. For you. Balance. You think after thirty or forty years they might get a little cranky? You think they might get a tad bit surly when someone brings a problem about as serious as a broken fingernail? Waaaa, I got a boo-boo. What? They are supposed to take an ass whipping for something you could fix your damn self if you just got off your ass and did it?

Look at it this way. Somebody you know is a pretty good mechanic. Doesn’t work as a mechanic, but they are as good, most of the time better, than anyone certified at the local dealership. However, they don’t tell anyone. Why? Because if they did everyone would be beating on their door, asking them to fix their car. For free. Eventually, that shits going to get annoying as hell. Even more so when its something simple, like changing the oil. Anyone can do it. Most are too damn lazy. With that box of crayons, now the platypus is starting to look like a duck. Here is someone who can assist you, will assist you, but dammit make it something serious, okay? Otherwise, change your own damn oil.

Most understand the person cant do a damn thing. They are just a person. However, that something that has a vested interest can. Modern science is always trying to figure out how things like cancer, diabetes even aids can be cured in traditional ceremonies. What they never realized is it isn’t the ceremony, or the individual presiding over it. What is curing the incurable is that something. That intangible unknowing. The individual presiding is only a conduit. That individual is all too aware of that fact, and just as aware there is going to be a price to pay. Just as aware they aren’t going to get paid. When the bill comes due its their ass. For me, that puts things into a whole new perspective.

If you need, go. There are real ones. Good luck finding them. Even better luck dealing with them. Or being dealt with by them. Remember what it is going to cost them to help you. If it is something you can do on your own, do it. If not, think long and hard before asking. Contemplate deeply on what it is going to cost. Not you, them. What are you asking them to suffer, all on your behalf? Are you so willing to put someone through that much pain? This rant isn’t to keep anyone away from those who are real. Quite the opposite actually. The idea here is for you to come to a better understanding the consequences. In this push button, give it to me now society, the consequences of our actions are rarely, if ever, considered. So yes, go. But, remember what you are going to put them through. Maybe it isn’t too much to offer a bit of tobacco, a little food, hell even a thank you. That is, of course, if you don’t have a hold of a platypus.

Some time has passed since I last wrote. Much has happened in that time. Some good, some ugly, but that’s life, isn’t it? Regardless how beautiful the field, go far enough and eventually you will step in a pile of crap. This leaves you with two choices. Rant and rave, pissed off over something you never had control of in the first place or scrape off the poo and move on. If you're fortunate, maybe you will find a creek to rest beside, washing off the remnants, to where your misadventure becomes nothing more than a bad memory. In time, that too will fade.

On and on we go, traversing valleys and precipices, on this journey called life. One certainty presides over us all. No one gets out alive. From my perspective, that's a good thing. Seventy or so years of this is enough. Immortality would be a curse. A never ending cycle of highs and lows, with time inexorably speeding up each year. By two hundred it would seem each day was passing in a blink. Enough to drive anyone mad. A great movie I watched on this subject, “The Man From Earth”. Well worth the watch if you have the time. Some believe death to be the bane of human existence. As though it is something to be feared. I see death as the ultimate gift. A gift to be welcomed, and looked forward to. Not to infer I am suicidal. I deeply appreciate this gift of life, and the privilege to experience reality in this form. However, I do look forward to it ending.

It has always been my understanding what you do today is what matters. Living life remembering life allows a person to stagnate. Stuck in the past, reliving traumas that never healed. Never becoming all one was created to be. One thing I have learned, the past lives only if you continue to feed it. Remembering the torments and tormentors, giving them status and presence, as though they remain in existence. Reanimated corpses of long dead agony. Ethereal ghosts of the mind. To exorcise these demons is the simplest of processes. Let them go. Yet many define their existence by these events. Missing the experience of being human by allowing an experience while being human to contain them. No one said this was going to be easy. If it were anyone could do it.

Some live their lives imagining their lives. Dreaming of what they may become. Never fully realizing who they are. So caught up in the dream of what they may yet one day achieve. Struggling so hard to be more, to have more. To become something they do not need to be to impress those they don’t want to be. All the while their lives pass them by. Moments like drops of rain, washing away each experience squandered. Interestingly, they never seem to get there. That far off horizon never reached. Until that final moment, when its time to go, realizing all that was missed. Too late to turn back.

One other option I have witnessed are those whose lack of self esteem and sense of self drives them to live their imagination. Before the advent of the internet, this was a rare occurrence, and typically society at large noticed these individuals and gave them a comfy place to live, complete with padded walls and nice people in white coats to care for them. An existence perpetually medicated, unquestionably deluded. “I'm Napoleon!” Of course you are. If you will step this way we have just the place for you to conquer.

Now exists all the tools necessary to become anything one can imagine. To create for themselves an entirely new persona, history and even physical appearance. Some go so far as to actually believe their imaginations, and then transfer that imagination to the real world. Living life so deluded they forget who they really are. Demanding the populace at large accept them as what they imagine themselves to be. So caught up in their fantasy they have given their fantasy life, fully expecting all to accept their fantasy as well. Dr. Frankenstein would be in awe of the monsters some have created.

Some of the more absurd I have seen are those who proclaim themselves Native American. Really? Look at yourself. Look at true First Nations People. Do they look like you? In any way? The color of their hair and eyes, shape of nose, mouth and face. Does anything of their countenance look anything like yours? It is one thing to be genetically Native. To be a descendant of the First Nations People. Hell, after 500 years or so of European occupation, mix marriages and of course all the Cherokees who traveled the continent banging everyone’s great grandmother, I expect most everyone who can trace their linage back a few generations will find an Indian in the woodpile. That however, does not make you “Native American”. There is a vast difference between being genetically Native, and being culturally Native. If I have to explain the difference, you would never understand it. Nor would you accept it. It is astounding the lengths some will go to in order to defend their delusion. In my travels I have heard the most outlandish of stories used to defend pale skin, blonde hair and blue eyes. I cannot tell you how many times I have had someone stand before me, so obviously of English, Irish, French, Scandinavian and Asian descent, demand I accept their ludicrous lamentations of being Native American. Fools like this may as well don a pirate costume and exclaim arrgh! all day. You look as foolish, and yes, everyone is laughing at you. Do you get how ridiculous you sound when you walk into a room, blonde hair and blue eyes, and make the declaration of being “Native American?” You really are embarrassing yourself. And providing comic relief to some of the more cynical, like myself.

Riddle me this, oh special one...what the hell is so wrong with being who you are? If you're white, be proud to be white. Or black or yellow or purple with green polka dots for that damn matter. There are two species of human, with four subgroups in each species. Be proud of you. Obviously, if you have a belief in a higher power, that higher power made you what you are. Therefore, are you so petulant, arrogant and pretentious to inform that higher power it was wrong? Doesn’t that mind set immediately nullify your higher power? How can it be a higher power if it is fallible? Isn’t the concept of infallibility indicative of a higher power? Or is that to logical and I, along with the rest of the world, am supposed to believe you were Pocahontas in a former life, you're immortal and are simply continuing your existence?

Most existing in their pit of self delusion are harmless. Well, maybe to themselves and a few in their families, but to the world at large they have little to no effect. Others however cause irreparable damage. Certainly those who portray themselves as Native American teachers and leaders. Accepting and initiating invitations from those who know no better in order for them to pontificate their delusions. South Park recently aired an episode. I liked to have passed out laughing when introduced as a Native American in walked the stereotypical white guy with a headband. Watch the episode, then look at the fool you invited to teach the children all about Indians. Sound familiar? The last woman I dated actually pulled out a book about Frank Fools Crow and proceeded to inform me, based on her perception that book was an instruction manual, on how I am supposed to conduct myself. The incredulous look on my face should have been enough. The real nut buster? She was a mental health professional! Let that sink in a moment, I'll wait.

OK, on we go. Still with me? Good. You know who is real good at playing Indian? Indians. When all you have to feed your family is the knowledge of culture, many see that knowledge as a commodity. And there are thousands upon thousands oh so willing to buy. Leave the rez, become a God. Or stay on the rez, because every year there will be a new crop of the urban confused more than willing to open their wallets and dispense every dime they don’t have for all that spiritual knowledge. Many know there is no substance to what they are buying, yet they continue to support it for fear of not having it. Even if it is hollow and empty, convinced its acceptable. Watching as women are abused, children broken, their men emasculated. Accepting what they know is blatantly wrong because the individual they are deifying has claimed to be a medicine person, head man of a non existent society they made up in their minds or some other foolish nonsense. These individuals know all the right words, can imitate all the right gestures. Some have even convinced themselves they are what they pretend to be. On and on it continues, eroding the very fabric of the culture they are selling, until all that exists is a facade of what once was.

A true Holy Person would never reveal themselves today. This society, those so convinced of what is or isn’t, would crucify them. Many times I have witnessed the Sacred reveal itself. Sad to say, I have had the unfortunate displeasure of watching as the Sacred was used to defile the Sacred. Like petulant children, “I didn’t want that color!” This circle attacking that circle. One claiming to be, while denigrating the next. If Christ himself walked through the door most would put a bullet in him. And exactly like children at Christmas, so busy playing with the box they ignore what was in it.

Here is how this works. The person chosen is the box. Chosen, not those who choose for themselves. They are the receptacle the power is housed in. They are simply a human, like anyone else. No magic powers, no special gifts. Just a person, acting the fool, being human. Until ceremony. Then the human steps aside, the box is opened and out comes the gift. The power. These unfortunate few are exceptionally difficult to find. Living a life of abject poverty, in constant misery and sadness. Knowing their lives are no longer theirs to live. Understanding as much as they are capable that they are now nothing more than a box. Waiting for someone to come and open them. Only to return to a life of torturous loneliness. But wait mr. hawk, that’s not how the books and movies portray it. Its all love and light, warm and fuzzy, with group hugs and effusive accolades. Everyone gets a trophy. If you will indulge me a second? Please return to a previous exercise. Find a mirror, look deeply into your eyes. Now, tell yourself, “I am an idiot.” Rinse and repeat as necessary until comprehension dawns.

True healing hurts. A lot. Any medical professional will tell you, and I am certain you have heard at least once, it has to hurt before it gets better. Do you honestly think it is any easier spiritually then it is physically? Traumas that have existed for 20 or 30 years, being forcefully ripped out of you. Nothing about that suggests warm and fuzzy, unless of course your into that sort of thing.

I guess the point to this rant is be you. Whatever you were created to be. Obviously, there is a point to you, or you wouldn’t exist. Yes, you are a little snowflake, unlike any other snowflake that has been or ever will be. In all of time, that ever existed or ever will exist, there is and only ever will be, one you. How freaking cool is that? So why in all that is sacred would you want to be someone or something else. That robe you wear, the flesh, your meat suit, its the only one. Okay, so it isn’t perfect. It has flaws and discrepancies. But then, isn’t it supposed to? If you believe you were created, not hatched, then you were created to be exactly what you are. What happened, happened. Use it for beauty, instead of wallowing in it and emanating the ugliness of it. Find a way to turn ugly into beauty. Don’t worry so much about what you might be. Hell, you probably wont ever become it, and if you did you probably wont like it. You were made to be exactly what you appear to be. Yes, we all want to be more. But more shouldn’t be different. More should be better. So ask yourself, is what you are better?