Only 58% want torture?  Wow, we're making progress here!

Taking into consideration that 85% of the US population claims to be "Christian" and that Christianity is the bloodiest and most brutal of doctrines known to man which has flourished throughout the centuries due to faith-based initiatives such as The Crusades, The Inquisition and the genocide of the Native Americans (among others), it's a miracle that only 58% of the USan population are clamoring torture.

58%. I just don't know what to say except for I'm glad I live in a camp ground with people who share my values and I'm glad we don't go much of any place or do any thing. Because it ain't America out there anymore. Or at least not outside Prescott, it ain't and I can tell.

I'm so sad that the economy is bad and getting worse but when I hear about the things that are going on out there, the utter FAILURE of people to love one another it just makes my heart heavy and sad. Guys, it doesn't have to be this way. It could be so much better.

Now I'm not pointing the finger of blame to you patriots, you guys basically seem to get it. But for the rest, man, I'm starting to feel like an alien species on the land and I'm a goddamn native. OK fine, maybe I'm just like 1/10th native but from my 1/10th native attitude, 1/10th of me having already survived not one but two genocides is:

 "Oh crap, here we go again".

And ho Gods, I wish there was something we could do about it, I have tried but I am not given this power. Or maybe I am but it takes time to work. Really all I can do is sing.I can see it all, here it comes. And you guys don't deserve it.

Yup. That's about it. I can try to draw power up from the Earth to protect you, I can call upon the 4 directions to look out for you, I can tell the eagles to record what happens to you but look how well it worked for us last time.

I wish there was something more I could tell you but this: one thing you can do in the face of death is die. In the same way that a very brave Sri Lankan friend of mine said, when going back to confront the regime, he said "if they torture me, then I will scream". And he gave me a great grin and a hug and that's the last I ever saw him.

So do we have anything more optomistic than "grab your ankles so you can kiss your own ass good bye"?

Yeah. My buddy that went back to almost certain death in Sri Lanka, what survives us, what's always there is love. The only way we really can loose is if we allow our hearts to become contanimated by hate. See that's their power winning you over. That trashes up your inner self. And it paints an ugly picture on every window you look out of. I really have to say IMO it's better to die than to have a hateful heart. And I ain't no saint, I'm a warrior so I have to beat back these roots, this tendency to want to become angry and essentially protect you.

If I could only figure out how.

Mostly my advice comes down to the most mundane; please do not leave the electric heater on when you sleep. Please make sure you wear your seat belts. Please, oh please look both ways when crossing the street. I lost my first wife to a motor vehicle, trust me, them things are dangerous as shit.

I lost 3 patients to MVAs as an EMT and 2 of them were kids. And that bent me so bad it was about 5 months before I was psychologically prepared to ride the bus again. But I did and then I did morgue detail which toughened me up a bit but I'll tell you this, I remember the names of every single dead body I picked up in this desert. I'm sworn to secrecy not to tell you but one time I picked up a guy who did a suicide, and on his lap was a new notebook and on the front of it the guy wrote "Dear Mom".

And the pages were blank. He didn't get off a single word. That's it. He bought a book and he thought he would talk to his mom but the words just didn't come. He had a hose running exhaust from his tail pipe in the window. So he CO'd himself and from what we're told, it's a pretty easy way to go.

He oriented his car so he was looking at the rising sun and he tried to tell his mom how he felt. Nobody will ever know what he had to say. All I know is he tried and he died loving his mom. How sweet is that?

You know in the death business, mostly all we ever get to say is "I'm sorry for your loss". Most of the time I could say much more. Because I do sometimes, or used to feel like the angel of death. I can tell you exactly what happens to you when you die. Some guy like me shows up, we scoop as much of you together as we can, we try to preserve all the forensics and stuff, but a certain remainder of you, we hose down the nearest drain. And you might think there are laws or something determining where your remains might be disposed of but the fact is, in Arizona, once you put it in the garbage can, it's garbage. Point of fact, absent any crime, your body can legally be disposed of at the town dump and you get mixed into old refridgerators and such. Which to me is a bonus because the Earth could use a bit of compost mixed in with all the toxins and metals. Whatever.

I pray to the eagles to see when I die so they will remember me. And I do the same for you. In my life I have been a great warrior and I attained and was given special powers. Now I have given them on to young people. I used to run and not be tired. I used to fight and always win. I used to this and I used to that. One time I had this major swinging bachealor pad in NYC. Boy I was styling then. But no more. Now I live in the mountians and flirt with women twice my age. You read that right. I'm dating in the octegenarian range. Hey you gals think you get less attractive with age? Screw that, to me you are more beautiful than ever. Those crow's feet around your eyes are so damn attractive to me.

Wells, native stories always take a long time and they always go in circles but I'll tell you this: don't matter what the 58% want, I will always try to protect you and nobody is torturing anybody within my field of vision but I won't interdict. Which means I will. Heck man, I once jumped into a buring car to save you people and man, I didn't feel hurried or pressed for time one bit. I did the native thing and just slowed down time so the fire didn't get to me. But what really did it, and I shit you not, the whole time I couldn't hear a thing because all I could hear was my ancestors singing. I shit you not. They were there with me. And now I am not so very afraid of death because I feel like my ancestors will be there singing.

I share these things with you so that you might have encouragement and not be afraid. This is the way we turn fear into love and mourning into dancing.