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The government holds millions of acres of tribal lands in Federal trust, which it profits from as it leases builds, dams, damns, mines and drills for uranium; coal; oil; ores. It subsidizes business as it sub-divides, dumps on, dumps in, and gives in to give some up, the indigenously derived, to greed-based interests. It slices the fruits of ancestral suffering with anyone it wants to, for any reason, without notice, explanation or even a rudimentary, vaguely outlined description. What do my federally held individual assets, my Indian inheritance, amount to other than an account number and a public misconception of government-funded support for American Indians? I am not a turkey, but this is Thanksgiving.

 

Professional oppression places its profits in the almighty, sacred institution of political debauchery, the U.S. Treasury where its dirty money re-emerges sanitized, laundered, and never hung out to dry but used in whatever manner political traditions see fit. Meanwhile, my elusive, inconclusive, information exclusive trust account assets continue to accrue, for over 33 years. Now, what do you think my just reward is for my unconditional trustee complacency? It is the grand total of three dollars and ninety-seven cents. Does this pitiful amount of dollars make sense? No. Is it calculating? Yes. Do I mean math? No. Is racial prejudice a social relic? Apparently, it is not. It seems American Indian policy can be summed up in three golden rules. See no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil. This is the causal tradition of suffering through suffrage.

America, you insist upon remembering the holocaust, you start wars with countries that hinder human freedom, social justice, and equality, and you take pride in the softened duplicity of your slave-owning forefathers. Let us pretend that the tragic legacy of American Apartheid does not exist.

 

There is no American Dream; there are only American dreamers who refuse to wake up. Welcome to post-modern oppression, the kinder, gentler, politically correct, passively aggressive practice of genocide. I want to believe America forsakes its violently prejudiced past, but rather than support for the oppressed, memorial rectitude, peaceful resolution, social revolution, there is blame, denial, defensiveness, determination to bury the past, passive aggressive political distraction, defensive hostility, and a general lack of empathy that refuses to acknowledge its determined upholding of colonial exploitation, expansion, excuses, protraction, and degrading disregard for the ongoing ruthlessness of dehumanizing Indian policy.

 

Where are our non-Indian supporters and advocates? We need you to raise your voices against oppression because it does not hear the voices of those it victimizes. Thus, our liberation from the bonds of segregate exploitation shall never be without your political will and social authority. Where are you, friends of the American Indians? We are dying for peace. We are desperate for healing, and embittered by trauma, not waiting for Obama, drowning in drama, and too disillusioned by cultural degradation to find the unity that would heal our nation from the camp concentration, the bar-less reservation, who will stand with us? Who will fight with us? Who will help free us from the shackles of selective Federal fascism? Thanksgiving, thanks giving, thanks gives new meaning to social medicine. Are you a healer? Then join us.

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