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200 pages, Paperback
Published September 27, 2022
As have, surely, my mother and father. No one deserved entry into heaven more than they, except that my father was an accordionist not a harpist, as I inform the priest in class that day.
"Will God let my father in?" I ask this Father Cheepootaat*-which-rhymes-with-eemataat (which is what I sometimes call him to myself).
"No," snaps Father Cheepootaat. "Sorry, Accordions are not allowed in heaven."
Distraught that my father might have to change instruments or go to hell, I vow to help him keep his accordion.

What makes our parties doubly unruly, and therefore doubly spectacular, is the fact that a clown god lives inside us. A spirit half-human and half-god, as is the case with all superheroes in all world mythologies. The difference is that our Trickster has a sense of humour and a concupiscence that know no limit.
For me, after having pored through every single word and syllable of its verbal fecundity, and comparing it to the many other languages I have tried on my world travels, I find English to be the world’s quintessential language of the intellect. It’s brilliant. When I need money, I speak English faster than the speed of sound. And generally get it. When I try to make money in Cree, by comparison, I go hungry. Cree is terrible when it comes to making money. But laughter? Hysteria unzippered, unbound, uncorked? That’s Cree’s genius.
If the marriage between the sky god Zeus and his wife, the Earth goddess Hera, was violent, then it was nothing in comparison to the moment when the one Christian God met Mother Earth on these shores and the aggression was total — he almost killed her. But didn’t. The culture could have disappeared. The figure of the Trickster could have disappeared forever. The culture came close to disappearing. The figure of the Trickster came close to disappearing. But it didn’t. It hung on by a hair. And hung on and hung on and hung on, if by one spark. And that is the spark that Indigenous artists stoked to life. Not least of which did these Trickster stories they tell make us laugh, and laughter is medicine. In fact, never before has laughter saved an entire race of people in quite this manner.