Indians & The Man Fighting on Earth

A think piece inspired by Sherman Alexie's novel, "Tonto and the Lone Ranger Fighting in Heaven"

Segregation. Individualism. Challenge the man. Traditions—whether good or bad—are always traditions. Christians share wine and Indians hallucinate. Eat it, “It’ll be real fucking Indian. Spiritual shit, you know?” Sing along, America, this land is my land; this land is your land, from the high-rise condos to the all-night Bingo. Will they ever catch a break? Stop and listen to a story, just once, because it’s almost all that is left. Heard a good story lately? Not unless you live on a reservation. It’s all make-believe in the surreal world. The place where you’re expected to finish high school, make the final free throw to win the game and keep out of trouble. In Florida, history fades on State Road 7, somewhere between fifteen-dollar cigarette cartons and no-limit hold’em. “How do you get one hundred Indians to yell Oh, Shit?” Who cares, right? “Say Bingo.” No wonder they drink, D.C. wont even let them win that; it’s a grimy escape from the filthy suburbs. The Good ol’ U-S-&-A put them there, generously handed over the reservation. They put a blanket over the issues, but it’s infested with smallpox. Serve your country. 20,000+ strong, the Native Americans in armed forces, but the glass is never half filled. Alexie says, it’s not half empty, either; all that matters is if it’s good beer. See you at Thanksgiving. According to reports, Congressman Pete Hoekstra, from US Representative from Michigan’s 2nd Congressional Distract “votes against Native American housing assistance.” Your trailer is big enough. Enjoy your patch of land and stop whining, they’ll say. “I’m a poet who can whine in meters,” Alexie says. Well this is a society that listens selectively, but nice work. The cute little kid at the carnival, the one yelling “bang, you’re dead, Indian.” What does he represent? Perhaps it means another generation of not giving a crap. “Indians can easily survive the big stuff. Mass murders, loss of language and land rights.” Like it says, the little things hurt more. Tack on another lifetime of slow moving cop cars and card shuffling, throw it in a used pick-up truck rusted at the door hinge, screw in a Native American branded license plate and drive to build tikki-huts in the suburbs. They were popular growing up and it was the only time we saw Indians—the greatest country in the world my ass. Slap me in the face with Native American sentiment because I spent eight school years in a public system and high school at a Catholic one—I don’t know much. However, Florida State honors you and uses a garnet-and-gold painted face Seminole with feathered spears to intimidate their opponents—fearless warriors in every aspect of collegiate life. Women splash their cheeks with war paint to match their Nike sweatshirt and everyone drinks beer to forget the person they’re going to fuck, not to forget about life on a reservation segregated from their land. Why did the Lone Range and Tonto fight in heaven? Because Sherman Alexie’s “only purpose is to teach children to rebel against authority figures.” Paint the picture through words, the oral history of suffrage and tradition. The seemingly untold story of true American History, presented cleverly enough on a few hundred pages of unadulterated sentiment.

Cheers,
Victor