for those about to rock

i hear kentucky's nice

"But I've come to see in the Land of the Free
There's only a future for the Chosen Few"

-- Billy Bragg, "To Have and To Have Not"


"but you're so wonderful," continued the cowgirl. "you know the best ways to harvest the land, and you can commune with the animals, and you have such a rich history and culture to pass down the generations through your children and your children's children. you are a strong and powerful warrior, and although you're clearly self-sufficient, i know you won't always walk alone. please, always bear this in mind and keep it close to your heart as we part ways."

insanely, in a flash of unbidden clairvoyance, the indian envisioned what a wise man would say many, many years into the future, a rhetorical question hypothetically posed to a controversial entertainer who was widely believed to take young boys to bed with him: "if you like children so much, michael, then WHERE'S THE GIRLS?!?"

the indian found the conundrum strangely apropos, the affront to logic that it laid bare so plain and clear.

"i think i understand, but i have a question." said the indian. "if all you say is true, and i possess all these wonderful qualities that you speak of, then how come you never in all this time thought to propose to one amongst you that she might ... "

"i'll handle this," the cowboy interrupted. "see, we have our own wise sayings, too. 'believe in yourself.' 'you'll find what you're looking for when you're not looking for it.' 'things have a way of working themselves out.' 'this is the land of opportunity, and there's plenty of fish in this here sea.'" the cowboy grinned. "what i'm saying is, your time will come. see what i mean? see how easy it is?"

"yes, i see how easy it is," replied the indian.

he shook hands with the cowboy and cowgirl, then set off to begin the long trek out west.

over time, he and his people -- people of his ilk that for basic animal need, if nothing else, were forced to play a game as old as time itself, a game where all the rules are nebulous and genetics and privilege and other mechanisms of happenstance assure a fixed outcome -- would relocate further and further west. over time, he, his people, their traditions and their culture would disperse in ever shrinking numbers and muted, superfluous existence on the fringes, as grains blowing away quietly and without a trace in the sands of history.

posted by jomilkman @ 7:27 AM