1 Jul 2008

"The young man, when he had settled his mind upon marrying some special girl, would appoint an uncle, or some elderly man to be his go-between. Extra dignity was lent to the occasion by having two old men for negotiators. He would then procure some wampum, if he were rich enough a collar or necklace, if not, just a string. Next he would compose a message, the main points of which would be represented by the arrangement of white and purple beads. This message, accompanied by the mnemonic wampum, would be forthwith entrusted to the go-between's care, and he would go to the home of the girl's parents carrying the wampum in a rolled-up red handkerchief or other gaudy cloth. Here his message would be delivered, and the wampum left , to be debated upon by the girl's family. The negotiator would depart for a while to allow time for deliberation. Before long he would return for an answer. Now should the girl's family have decided negatively, the wampum would be returned to the old man, who would deliver it to the sender. And the matter was dropped. But should the suitor be favorably regarded, the wampum would be retained and upon the negotiator's next visit he would be answered in the affirmative or asked to defer a little longer. The retention of the wampum was considered a sign of consent. It often happened that the husband, after the wedding, would buy back the wampum" (Speck 1976: 254-255).

Beautiful Babylon Babies Unite !!!

This Blog existed after Bush II "the lesser" stole 2 elections, before Google ate Blogger,

This Blog existed after Bush II "the lesser" stole 2 elections, before Google ate Blogger,
Love Trumps hate.

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Poetic HyperLinks Defeating the Impossibilities of Peace

Also sprach Zarathustra to the brothasistahs lost out in the woods…
Rolling stones and hurricanes prime us for the rapid eye movement of whose dream?
A stairway to the dark side of the moon reveals an orchestrated King
singing the blues while sexual pistols whip Jesus’ son.
Who’s influence weens us?
Me and my friends gratefully raged against the machine for three days
in the shadow of the valley of the dead
so big brother and company held us down while the wind cried
nothing to be gained here (except copied rights),
Then a questing tribe of beastly boys found a digable plant
where a buffalo soldier picked up a Gideon’s bible from the Godfather
in joe’s garage (or was it in one of 200 motels?)
Anyway, on a Holiday, the pinball wizard boy (Billie)
followed his heart and stopped pretending he was the king of the little plastic castles
while education, missed in the house of the naked apes, evolved and mutated
into and with ~ Nature Art Love Truth ~ and we do too…
And somewhere over the rainbow dancing fools send clowns and purple rain
into imagine nations where everything is now sacred
and there are no more public enemies or rusted Roots or minor threats
or bad brains or busted rhymes or widespread panic
and everyone can read the hieroglyphics on the wall
and we are all refugees of courtney’s love attaining nirvana….
But then again, you’re so vain, you probly think this poem’s about you-
we are everywhere and we cannot be beaten
it’s all over now baby blue, all we need is Love
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