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December 13, 2007 --Printer Version

Sipping and Guzzling

Not a day goes by without the Tribal Council and their gang of thieves doing something weirder and weirder.  Looking back at the most recent payout, "Social Impact Payment" which is supposed to come from the Casino revenues, we see a few irregularities that should not only raise eyebrows, but alarms in the Federal Halls of Justice. 

The payout was labeled as "ronin payout".  Now, how is that possible?  Nowhere on Ronin's books does it declare that they made this kind of payment to the Tribe.  In fact, they still have "No earnings to declare", so, wassup?

Further, the more than $6 MILLION the TC declared as 'earnings' a few months back, also, from Ronin, turns out to be a false statement on all fronts.  Again, Ronin had no earnings therefore no earnings rate to declare. 

When people demanded their share of that, they were shut down by the tight fists of the Tribal Council.  Pathetic attempts at accounting spin from our favorite scoundrel, Walt Hollifield, got him run off the stage and out of the meeting. 

So, where is the Social Impact Payment to the people from the Casino Revenues?  Oh? What's that girl? (Barks Twice sits and wags, raises one paw)  You say that Ronin not only runs the casino, but they also own it?  How can that be?

(Barks Twice barks twice and spins around chasing her tail)  Oh!  I get it!  The Tribal Council, especially Carl Walking Ego, Naked Lawn Ornament and her Hermaphrodite child, Zit Puppet authorized the millions of dollars of loans TO Ronin, purchased millions of dollars OF Ronin stock (in their names and under their control), and then gave the Casino Management contract TO Ronin, for which we PAY TO Ronin a certain amount (whatever they want) (Barks Twice Keeps spinning, barking) And then we gave Ronin Ownership OF the Casino, is that what this is about?  (Barking, spinning)

Oh!  And I see that Ego and NLO are also being paid an enormous fee for 'facilitating' the action on all this, is that right?

(Barks twice, staggers, lies down, barfs) 

Oh!  Yes, that is a mess! 

Well, no wonder Poopsie is upset!  He now has to share power over the raiding of the casino profits with Ego and NLO!  No wonder he wanted someone to hire a cop (that would report to him) that would oversee the corrupt activities of the Tribal Council!  I wonder how it went between the former cop lady and the Country Singer that he tried to nominate but who declined.  (No one wants to report to a murderer and rapist, thief and child molester if they don't have to)  (Badgers have to).

So, under the guise of a 'SIP' payment, but with a receipt that declares "Ronin Payout" the TC is attempting to make it appear that they have, in fact done both, when in fact, they have done neither. 

Wow, no wonder you threw up!  All that spinning!

Special

I know I have been lax at getting this blog out daily, as I would like to, but there is a good reason for that.  By now, most of you know that when the blog is slow to issue, there are projects I am working on that make the bad guys fill their shorts, except for Poopsie who has a regular subscription to "Man Diapers".

In this case, I am working on several things that I consider "Holiday" surprises, made special for some of my faves.  Q-Ball, yeah you, dummy, the over-sized worm in the back of the room, I have something that I am making just for you.

There, now you know the target, keep an eye on him.  Watch the difference of "before it hits the blog" and "after". 

Oh, and note to local vendors:  Not only should QBall NOT be using Tribal Council Credit cards to buy gas and beer for his personal partying, but also, should not be using the Casino money either.  You may want to report that irregularity so that when the audits come down, you, your store, don't appear to be part of the scheme to defraud the people, or laundering of Tribal Funds through your registers.  Just a thought. 

Remember:  When these guys go down, they take everyone with them.  Especially their 'friends'.  That is how they do things. Further, they have so much money stashed away to keep them afloat for months or years while this is ongoing, that unless you also have a huge stash and access to unlimited tribal funds to pay your legal costs, you might not fare as well when the investigators come a' knockin' at your doors, checking your receipts.

Just a thought, like I said. 

And Q-Ball, you are going to just "LOVE" what I am building for you in the website.  Here's a hint:  It gives an inside view of your career behind bars.  Who you talked to and what you said.  Yup, your brothers thought they got this all shut up.  Wrong-O Bongo!  And, I see a US Attorney over there, a little nervous about what is to come.  He might want to rethink some of his recent alliances.  Or not. 

(*Inhales through chattering teeth) This is going to be so delectable!  But you must be patient.  These things take time.  Oh, ya, and that guy you wanted to off to keep him permanently quiet?  His family has a copy.  Just remember that.

I am working real hard to make sure you can read it by Christmas. (Little Elf laughter)

Other Than Thistles

Good thing I gave you something to chew on today.  I didn't expect to be away from the puter this long. 

I have been sent so many photos for the Thistles pages, and I will get around to filling up the third page, eventually.  However, unless there is something just so pressing it cannot go anywhere else, the third page will be the last of the Thistles.  You get the point by now.  Or you don't, and nothing that you see, here or anywhere else, can save you from your own reckless denial.

Lurking around on my own, some of these web sites, have some really good stuff on them.  I don't dare post those pages or links to them because the ignorant will of course become jealous and try to retaliate against someone who gets a positive mention in the blog, so I limit that to adults who can defend themselves.

One of the most striking sites I saw on the Bebo pages, and you tell me if you think you know whose it is, was amazing on several levels.  The photo was compelling, beautiful, soulful, intelligent.  The prose that was written to go along with it was deep, valid, and shows real expression.  Something from the inside that tells me that person has a real gift and could go far with it, given the chance to overcome the cess pit of ignorance and violence that is the rez. 

I wonder if that person even has a clue as to how talented they are.  How music, poetry, literature could take flight on those wings still folded up and kept hidden from jealous scheming eyes of friends who are not friends.

I wonder how many others out there, real intelligent, real talent, real gifts, like that one, will be washed away by drugs, alcohol and violence and the world will never see their lights shine.  The world will never know the angles of expression that comes from those souls that when the light strikes them, they reveal a whole new insight into life, possibilities, and creative riches. 

How many of these treasures can we afford to lose before we decide we must do something to turn it around and make the world a safer place for them so they can be what Creator intended them to be, given half a chance?

Indians must be so rich in children that they can afford to throw so many away, eh?  Like they were nothing?  Like they had no value?

Wow, Indians must be really rich!  Oops, there goes another one.

And for the entertainment side: I have come across some of the Hit and Run Kid's older sites.  What a twerp!  I will post those, probably in the blog itself, just for giggles later on. 

Fleeting Fame

I hear that shortly after the blog episode that noted Goofy Doofy's idiot run through the Blue Building yelling:  "Cat West's blog is going to be shut down!" and "They've arrested one of her informants!" and everyone just scratched their heads trying to figure out how a person could be so stupid that they didn't realize how stupid they were...

But to Doofy, it was her shining moment.  For that fleeting time that her name appeared attached to her stupidity, she was famous on the rez.  It was the only attention she had ever gotten and she felt like 'somebody' for the first and only time in her whole pathetic life. 

Just like Selena Horse, who bragged about Weenie Boy killing her husband for her and being posted in the moron squad, it was for both of them, as if they were celebrity status. 

How pathetic is that?  Selena was sashaying through the casino, being paged every five minutes (turned out she had been paging herself) just so that people would know who she was, just in case they would want to.  Other than a homicide investigation, I cannot think of anyone that would want to know who she was, but hey, it's the rez and entertainment is what you make it to be.

So it was with Doofy, who almost never goes to the casino.  Suddenly, there she was, frequently, laughing loudly (Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!), over gesturing, talking at a volume that would draw attention from six rows over... hoping that people would say:  "Who is that loud mouth moron?" 

And, like in the 60's sitcom, someone would say "That Girl" and she would be able to turn her head, give a vacuous stare, pose for the freeze frame... Move over Marlo Thomas, some ugly as mud, dumb as donkey puke Doofus is in your spotlight!

Of course, all that faded when the blog was retired to the 'previous blogs' section, and her fame went out like a blown fuse.  No one asked for her autograph.  No one asked her to re-enact "The Blog is Falling"... no agents signed her up.  No one thought she was pretty. 

Well, now she is known for being both stupid and pathetic, so perhaps she will return to the stage, or at least the slot rows, and once again hope will dance alive in her, as she talks too loudly, laughs like a mule, waddles like duck, through those brightly lit canyons of slot machines, with that little voice in her head (the one that said "the Blog is Falling!") will now scream "Look at me! I'm the stupid pathetic one! I'm famous for it! I'm in the blog!"

Being stupid is something to be proud of on the rez. Someone tell her that bathing regularly, and better hygiene might work.

I know it is not much, but the Casino has no real entertainment in the slot rows, so this should keep that going for a week or less!

(Doofy picks out a particularly bad outfit, too tight, wrong colors, and ripped in the back) "I think I'll wear this to my premier."

The grease stained casino floor awaits.

For those who have real lives,

You know where to find me.

~Cat

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December 17, 2007 --Printer Version

Indian Runners

Remember those special shoes?  Nike or Adidas or one of them, made special shoes to fit Indian style footsies.  Well, Carl and Carl better have a pair on them because they are getting ready to run. 

Presently, they are only dodging and ducking (fat men as boxers?) the questions that are being put to them, but it won't be long before all that they have stolen is revealed.  Walking Ego tries to say he is in meetings all day, but the truth is, he is on the crapper. 

People say he looks distant, nervous, jittery, and when the phone rings, he about jumps out of his special shoes (way wide for the fat boy).  He is still trying to deny any connection with Ronin, but that boat won't float because we have him all over in that company.  Even though their website has been changing itself to eliminate mention of any of its 'Directors Board', to try and shield him, he is still connected to it from Day One. 

Can't burn a paper trail, Carl.  You might try lighting a courtesy match, however.  Really stinks around you right now.  It's only going to get worse.

Mark Lufkins is spilling his guts about the land deals he and Carl Walking Ego made, from Coast to Coast.  He spilled about the high priced hookers, and all the good times paid for with Tribal Funds.  Oops.

I recommend Carl find out where Poopsie gets his man diapers ordered from and lay in a supply for himself.  Would hate to see him mess up those special shoes and all.

Yup, millions for Carl, nothing for you all.  Especially nothing for the kids.  He would not even give Bernice money to go pick up free toys for the children for Christmas! 

Oh yes, the rez still a poster child of poverty.  People feel sorry for Indians.  Especially those kids.  Carl and his buddies plunder the funds, take out huge loans in the Tribe's name, never pay them back, and yet the families, the elders, the children all go without so that he can have the high life.

Just ask Mark.  He'll tell you.  He'll tell you everything. 

Carl, you can't get away, so you may as well play.  Sit down, let's have a chat.  I promise you will live long enough to enjoy the hospitality of Federal prison.  In fact, I will guarantee you get to be a really old man in there.  How's that sound to ya?

You make beggars out of your people so that you can live like a king?  You spend more on hookers than the elders get for fuel, food and burial!  You proud of that?

These questions will get answered, Carl, one way or another. 

People want to know why their $333 checks say 'Ronin Payment'.  They want to know how much money you and the rest of them stole to prop up that false front and how much you have squandered on those high flying deals where you were the Richest Indian In the Country as you bought properties everywhere and had Mark help you.

People want to know why Larry Leventhal is being paid so much as a 'consultant'.  Consultant for what?  He apparently only works for you, Ronin and Walt Hollifield.  People want to know, Curly Ego. They want the truth.  And everyone wants their money back.

And where did you get the cash to buy Pop's Bar in Devil's Lake?  Dig up a few from the backyard, did you?

Starving and abusing the tribe while you strut around like you own the place, just not working any more.

Like I said.  Just sit and chat awhile.  So many more questions that need answers.  Don't make me sneak up on you and say "Boo!"  Well, not until you get those Man Diapers.  Or have you already put in your order?

Your fear clings to you like a dirty rag off some dead man.  You stink of fear and greed.  Time to come clean, carl.  It will only get worse if you don't.

Other Carl

McKay, you dumber than a box of nails.  You brag in the paper about a $30 Million profit and yet you make no payments to the tribe?  How long did you think that would fly?  Cheated the troops on the quality of the armor, by cutting corners, falsifying inspections and quality control reports.   Their blood is on your hands.  How many families have had to carry home a triangle folded flag because their loved one died because you wanted to skim an extra buck off the contracts?

Oh yeah, and the people who push those contracts your way, they will go down with you.  Your big mouth puts them at risk of losing everything.  What do you think they will do to you to be sure you never get the chance to speak to anyone? 

Real smart, McKay.  You are as good as road kill in the summer.  They will find you by the stink of your rotting somewhere that looks like an accident.  Only one thing can keep them from protecting themselves over your dead body, and that is for you to start talking.

You see how it is, it is crumbling.  You want to be the last one pretending you are not going to prison?  Good luck with that. 

You party up with the big boys and the money comes rolling in, and then you not only cheat the tribe, make inferior armor that gets our soldiers killed, but you skim off what you were supposed to be sharing with the others?  Are you out of your pea-brain mind?  You know those guys will kill you!  They killed Eddie because they were pissed off about a speeding ticket.  What do you think they will do to you? 

You have the Turdclan after you, a few expensive suits representing people who do business with you but don't want the stink of you to get anywhere near them.  What do you think is going to happen to you?  How far do you think you will get? 

Only one thing will save your sorry hide.  I think you need to sit down, have a little talk and answer the questions that are put to you.  Sooner or later either you will answer to them or your 'friends' will make sure you don't talk to anyone.  Your choice.  You know what your 'friends' are and you know what they have done and what they will do.  I say, save yourself! 

Oh, and pick up the phone.  Time to start taking those calls.  You screening to dodge the questions, well, that just makes people not want to help you out at all from the mess you are in.

Why are they calling you?  Well, for one thing, Jerry Cudworth told them to.  Now, how's that for a pal?  Yup, he's willing to lay it all on you.  In fact, I'll bet he has his story down to where you tricked him into doing things he later found out were illegal. 

Oh yeah, you have friends all right.  And you know how they value their dogs.  So, are you a a sheep? Or a dog?  You sure ain't no man.  Well, according to your wife.  I figured out for myself after listening to Walking Ego tell it over and over again, those gross stories of her coming after him, ala Britney Spears if you know what I mean, and if that is what she says is better than you, then lord knows you are at the very bottom of the barrel they will probably scrape you out of some day.

Full Of Fear

These weasely over-sized cowards that have been stealing from you, bullying you, turning you into beggars and shaming you in front of the nation, are not hard to take down.  You can see that as blustery as they are, they fear simple questions. 

They run, they hide, they lie.  They hide behind their doors, they don't answer their phones and they run when you see them in public and they won't return your calls.  Because they are scared.  Scared, scared, scared.

They are afraid of you and yet you still do nothing?  Look at what they are!  They are terrified little mice cornered by a question!  They sob, they cry, they lose sleep, all afraid of being asked a question.

So, demand answers.  You can do it.  You must do it.  Your prayers will be ignored if you fail, time and time again, to do your part of the task.  Why would any prayer that ignores the answer, ignores the signs, be listened to over and over again.  The biggest part of every prayer is YOU.  You do your part, and The Creator makes it happen. 

So many of you treat prayers like a Christmas List of all the things you want-- for free.  No work on your part required. Pray, and then wait to see it fall from the sky, at your feet.  God is not your maid and does not clean up your messes for you.  Your 'spiritual' connection is only as strong as your resolve to do your part in this world, regardless of how it turns out for you. 

All you big bad Indians made this whole stompin' show over "Fighting Sioux", and you won't ask a question of the people who are abusing you? Robbing you? Killing your children? No wonder people are laughing at SLN and many of the others!

Other Tribes

Even Turtle Mountain, with all their issues, manages to be more open and responsive to the people.  When an election is coming, they post signs all over the rez to make sure everyone knows.  SLN is like a dark, sleepy cave with nary a signal that anything is in process.

They hold their General Assembly Meetings on a schedule so that the tribal members can attend.

They even held an open meeting on the casino and how that is being run.  And they remind people that these meetings are open to the public!  They encourage people to participate in their own government and businesses! 

SLN are a bunch of zombies.  The two tribes are different as day and night in most respects.  As different as real life and only life-like. 

Thistles

I hear stories of how families destroy their own children.  They are called 'disposable children' because so many babies are born, so few amount to anything because their own families don't support them.  Rather, they tear them down.

One story, and I have heard this many a time, different people, same story, where a young woman worked hard at her job, getting as much overtime as she could to take care of her young children.  She was a single mother and wanted a better life for herself and her kids.  She was studying in her spare time and always had plans for a brighter future.

But her mother, grandmother and probably her siblings saw her making money and decided they needed it for the slots.  They would always manage to beg her money off of her, so they could go feed the slot machines.  "You think you're better than us?" and other typical guilt trips were hammered on her, daily.

The harder she worked, the more they took.  Finally, her spirit broken, she just gave up.  She and her kids went onto nowhere welfare and all those dreams, all that promise, evaporated. 

No wonder you don't care about the drugs, the alcohol.  You have to go and gamble to get away from it all, right? 

I saw one woman who told me she didn't have enough money to get blinds for her kitchen.  The old ones so ratty, they were useless, broken. I went to the store and got the blinds for her.  Later, when she opened up her wallet I saw over $100.  I was astonished  that she had just manipulated me out of my money and she had all that cash. 

"I thought you said you didn't have enough money for blinds ($8, btw) and I see you have all that money!" I said to her.

"Oh, that's not house money," she said.  "That's my Bingo money." 

Tell you what, folks.  If you are on welfare, you don't have money for booze, drugs, alcohol or cigarettes and you certainly don't have 'bingo money'. 

If you are not working you should be ashamed of yourself for draining the money from your children who are working, just so you can go play in the slot canyons of the casino that is robbing you in all four directions. 

Stop supporting the drug dealers, bars and liquor stores, bingo halls and casinos.  Start supporting your own families, your own children.  Make a difference, not an excuse. 

Note To QBall:

You are not forgotten.  I am working on the piece for you.  You will recognize it and it will make you feel like you are back where you belong: In prison.  Just that so much other stuff keeps coming up.  You don't mind waiting your turn, now do you?

Remember Who You Are

Look around you.  See what a dump you live in.  You made that for yourself.  You can clean it up. And your neighbor over there, you can help them.  Do something for yourself and you will feel better.  Do something for someone else and you will be better.

You know where to find me.

~Cat

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NOTE:

Floyd Redcrow Westerman has finished his work here in this place and has taken the journey to the Spirit World, December 13, 2007.   The world has lost one of the finest examples of a Human Being as ever there was.  Condolences to his family, friends and those who had learned so much from what he had to say, and who learned from his example of conduct in this life. 

Mitkakuye Oyasin!

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December 18, 2007--Printer Version

Slow Learner

I have to wonder when I see these next two photos, how much this guy really doesn't like who and what he is.  First off, he calls himself 'Slim'  That is "Slime" misspelled.  He also claims, back in 2005, to be 20 years old.  Since he didn't graduate high school until 07, which would make him, according to the lies he tells about himself, 22, one would have to wonder on all levels how many times he had to repeat the 5th grade.  Perhaps he was too drunk to go to school?  I found this picture because I went looking for a picture of him where he is not both holding onto a beer and drunk.  Best I could come up with.

Now remember:  This stellar citizen ran over an old man last summer, shortly after graduation, and then ran off to hide his crime.  So, it appears that drinking makes him neither smart, nor brave, nor better at anything.  Yet, this is what so many out there strive to attain:  Stupidity, arrogance, and immunity from the consequences of all their crimes, great and small. 

I hear he feels real bad about running the old man down and running away, leaving him there.  Feels so bad that he could not give up drinking, partying, laughing it up, non-stop since.

His Auntie is Carl McKay's wife.  She's the one that wears no underwear and according to Walking Ego, she comes after him, just like that, time and time again.  He tells a much more disgusting version of those incidents, but way too gross for this site. 

Hmmm... No wonder boy wonder is drunk all the time!  Look at his family!

And, to give him the benefit of the doubt, he could be telling the truth when he says he was 20 back then.  Just-a-real-slow-lear-ner.

Opposition

Strange as it is, there are those vehemently opposed to my exposing the issues of underage drinking and drugging on the rez.  They think I should 'just leave those kids alone.'  Well, only one person has said that, but apparently, she is on a campaign to make it nice and quiet so the kids can dabble in addictions, alcohol, regardless of the consequences to them, their families or the community at large. 

Usually, the only people that feel threatened by a campaign to prevent young people from making mistakes that cannot be outgrown, such as drug addiction, drunk driving and the deaths that follow, are the ones who promote drug use in the community.  They don't want kids clean or sober.

They don't want kids to grow up with a decent education, decent health and the ability to stand up for themselves against the bullies, the corrupt and the greedy.  They want buyers for the poison they sell. 

Besides, the more you get stoned or drunk with them, the more you cover up for them when they are caught in a crime. 

Look at all the people who saw Eddie's bloody body carried into that house to be washed up and re clothed.  They all knew who had murdered him.  They all kept quiet.  Well, they were all drinking, there was some drugs going around and wow, they didn't want to get busted for gambling illegally with Turdmother.  They ALL kept quiet.  They made their children keep quiet.  They are still quiet to this day. 

Look how quiet Bobby Littleghost is.  Quiet and cold. 

Yup, the rez needs more drunks, more druggies.  More zombies to watch the evil swirl about them. More loadies to lie for them in court.

They want your soul.  That is what all those people sold with their silence, back then and now.  You think Bobby Littleghost is in a peaceful place?  Hardly.  His spirit is stuck to the rez, like dirt on your shoes.  He cannot move on.  Eddie's waiting.  Bobby stays in the cold, dark between-worlds, where all cowards end up.

You kids, you keep thinking that what you are doing is so cool, and I understand that.  You don't have anyone around you telling you any different.  And if they did, you would not listen to them because you don't respect them.

There are people out there that tell you they are your friend and they think it is okay for you to drink, drug, drive, murder, rape and keep silent on the crimes that hurt the people who thought you were their friend. 

Yesss, like a snake hissing and swaying, you know it will not end well or good, but you can't stop.  You have no one there to tell you to stop.  You only have your friends, halfway to the Graveyard, urging you to join them.

You have no idea what life could be if you were allowed to grow up, heal up, clean up.  You have no idea what changes, what good things you could bring about and what happiness would enter your life on down the road.  None of that is in your view so you think it does not exist. 

What is on your path is poison.  And those who encourage you to pick it up and take it into your life, are not your friend.  They are people who want to control you.  To make you lie when they need a liar.  To make you quiet when they don't want anyone to know their crimes. 

You are their accessory, and they wear your addictions like jewels.  A sign to them, that you will never be anything more than what you are right now.  A sign to them that they will be able to crush you if you try to step into your own life, your own ideas, and leave your addictions behind.

Go ahead, plan that party for the New Year.  Look around.  Who will be dead?  And who will be the one that kills them?  You of course, will just watch and keep silent, right?  Well, unless they need you to lie.

If you want more from your life, you have to work for it.  Struggle for it and sometimes, sacrifice the party life which goes nowhere, but down.  You may even have to deny your begging family the money they want for their addictions, drugs, alcohol, gambling and bingo. 

You have to be strong to get to where you can have a better life.  You are not strong when your will is cut to ribbons by addictions.  Those who oppose my speaking out on this are people who want it to go one, without anyone ever challenging it.  They don't want to save your life because they don't care about you. Their own family dead from drugs, in jail because of drugs, addicted, struggling to overcome addictions.  They don't care.  Not even for the lives of their own do they care.  They want you to become involved in as much darkness as they can sell to you. They want you to crave it, need it, be lost and sick without it.  Then they can control you.

They are opposed to me bringing it out.  They want it quiet.  Like it always has been.

Everybody Loved Eddie

Yes, Eddie was loved by all.  Everyone knew him and everyone was his friend.  And they all either kept silent or told lies to protect those who murdered him.  They still are either silent or lying.  You know who they are.  They know you know.  Look at them.  Tell me what you see behind their scared eyes.  You see that emptiness?  You see that void that keeps sucking them down harder and harder into that abyss of fear, guilt and cowardice?

Even the murderers are covered with the darkness of their deeds.  You see anything in those eyes that even remotely looks like life?  Look at their kids.  All of them drunks.  All of them druggies.  All of them hate their parents for what they are, and what they have done to them.

All they get from them is 'things money can buy', and they are bought, over and over again.  It is never enough.  It never lasts.  They always want more, need more, but it is never enough. It can never be enough because it is not the truth.  They know the truth. 

You all know the truth.

You look at them, and the slime that they are.  You protect them? That garbage? You protect them at the cost of your very soul?  And what do you get out of it? What do they give you for your silence?

For Bobby Littleghost, it was the rape of his teenage daughter by one of them.  Seriously, they thought Q Ball would walk away from that rape like he has all the others.  Why?  Because they own your souls.  You sold out to them a long time ago.

But Bobby was mad and didn't care and he was going to kill ol' QBall.  Bobby's daughter so badly torn up, beat up, she almost didn't survive. Qball just laughed.  Because no one ever holds them accountable.  Everyone stays quiet. 

But Bobby was ready to hunt Qball down and kill him.  His family allowed him to go to trial and to prison just so he would be spared from death.  Because if Bobby started killing the Turdclan, he would have taken them all down. 

So, it was a trade.  A few years in prison for QBall, and Bobby went quiet again.  His daughter birthed twins from that rape and they died.  But Bobby kept silent about what he knew about Eddie's murder.  After all, they were family.  And family means they can do anything. 

And they do.

And now, the next generation and the next, with drugs, alcohol all they recognize as social or family or intimate behavior.  SLN Culture is corrupted completely. 

Everyone Loved Money Mike

And he was killed.  Everyone kept silent about him leaving and where he went.  A few tried, from the first morning to find him, but they got no help from Money's 'friends' or the badgers, who kept making excuses for him being gone. 

And when Mike's dead body was pulled out of the lake, the party squad that made it all possible, just went right on partying.  Boo hoo, we miss you !  Let's all get drunk with the guys that killed him.  Let's all keep quiet about what happened.  Let's all show up at his give-away and get some neat stuff. 

Oh yeah, getting drunk, getting stoned, doing hard drugs, driving, underage, all just so very cool.

And finding out that your friends just want to party and really would never stand up for you? Well, that's priceless!

Eddie, Mike, Joe, and all the others and those yet to kill themselves, OD or be murdered, all have one thing in common:  Friends too selfish to stop them, help them or tell the truth. 

Wow, and those were the guys you loved? Hate to think of what it is like for, you know, just regular buds.

Oh yeah, Kalum freaks out because he's seen Mike.  I guess he knows now that there is no peace when an Indian is murdered.  He, like his Turdclan uncles and aunties, knows that those Spirits get restless and tend to make themselves known.  They also know that eventually, those that did these murders, and those who kept silent and those who lied, they all have to die some day. 

And they are waiting. 

Meanwhile, your community is in the toilet.  Your children: Look at them.  Tell me what you see, if you dare.

You know where to find me.

~Cat

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December 19, 2007  Printer Version

Dorgan And The Dragons

Dorgan the Organ is playing the role of Magician's Assistant.  You know the one that stands up on the stage, in skimpy sequined costume, much too revealing to be ignored, while the magician does some hiding and switching just out of range (They Eye Cannot Be Two Places At Once -- and two eyes, apparently, can't see much).

A couple of recent scandals regarding Ft. Totten/SLN require him to put on the skimpy sequined costume and take the stage. 

One: The IHS Scandal (Indian Health Services) with Amy Cloudman at the center of ethical as well as criminal abuse of power, position and authority.  The BIA, like the Catholic Church, abhors scandal and instead of investigations, the people are only partially served by 'transfers'.  The element of disgrace, be it a pedophile or rapist priest is transferred to another parish to repeat the crimes with no consequences.  IHS transferred Amy Cloudman from Kyle, where she was involved in using the position to both gather confidential information to extort silence or cooperation from people, using her spies to raid records, breach confidentiality, on a regular basis; and to embezzle funds for her own personal use, all to the detriment of the Indian People she was supposed to be working to help in their recovery from addictions, rape, incest and abuse.  BIA transferred her directly to Ft. Totten, where she picked right up where she left off.

Dorgan the Organ, pretending to be a dragon slayer on this one, after reviewing the testimony and statements of the people she had bullied and mistreated and how their greatest fear was that of retaliation (and there is still a real possibility that is what is in store for them as he does nothing to insure their safety or security), states that he thinks this is more widespread than just this case.

Well, DUH!  For years he and his office have ignored and rebuked letters and emails and phone calls of complaints against Piggy Cavenaugh who has been doing exactly the same thing in the clinic environment!  So, one could say that his 'guessing' this is more widespread shows that perhaps he in fact has been aware of the documents, and letters that have been sent to him??? Ya think?

Meanwhile, he is still out there grinding away to get more money for his good buddies in SLN, and to continue to ignore the complaints of whistle blowers who have risked everything to get him to investigate his best buds. 

Like the magician's assistant, he pulls off a major distraction and everyone is supposed to think that the problem of corruption in IHS and the Clinic in Ft. Totten is all better now. Kiss them booboos and the pain all gone, eh? 

Meanwhile, Amy Cloudman gets sawn in half, the crowd roars with applause, and Piggy Cavenaugh silently disappears behind the smoke and mirrors.

Dorgan and the magician take their bows. 

He is as guilty as any accessory to the crimes he chooses to ignore, repeatedly and that, my friends, might just puke on him in the near future. So far, it has paid well for him to ignore these abuses.  Up until now, no one was looking.  But, we are looking now.  One might conclude that ignoring the documentation and the letters, refusing to investigate, all the while shoveling money at the very criminals being complained about, might in itself constitute a level of criminality.  (He bows again, showing ample cleavage)

The Silent Assistant

Of course, he has been totally mute on the scandal of the SMC plant which was revealed as deliberately under weaving the garments that are supposed to yield ballistic protection for our soldiers.  SMC has both accepted the $2 Million fine (chump change to Carl McKay) almost half of which goes to the two "Relators" which is the new name for whistle blowers, and declared their innocence at the same time. 

Spin until you puke, McKay.  The Whistle Blowers would have received nothing, nada, zippo the hippo unless their claims were substantiated.  And they proved that the products were being deliberately under woven.  McKay claims it was a misunderstanding on the product instructions.  Funny, he seems to be the only one that thought it was supposed to be made under spec.

He then declares that they did not go to court on this because they are diligent about getting this equipment to our soldiers.  Why, he sounds downright heroic!

Truth is, had this gone to court and the investigation an all that was uncovered been revealed, his butt would have been in prison, along with the backsides of his buddies on the Tribal Council as well as the Turdclan.  He settled to make it stop. 

Otherwise, by his logic, anyone could make any kind of false claims against the company and he would gladly pay them over $400K each. 

Drew Wrigley seems to be the only politician in ND to actually remark on this matter. 

Dorgan the Organ is standing next to the magician, silently smiling and undulating for distraction.

NOTE ON BALLISTICS TESTS ON THOSE UNDERWOVEN GARMENTS

The government declares that they did ballistics tests on the under woven garments and they appeared to meet the protection standards and that no soldier has been injured or killed because of the under-weaving.

Here is what I know about those ballistic tests.  Generally, all they do is take the item, string it up, fire a few bullets at it to see if it holds up.  These are done with brand new items, not the ones that have been worn for a few weeks, drenched in sweat and infiltrated by sand.  The problem with 'under weaving' is that even though the garment might hold up, initially, it is the use for which they are intended and the conditions under which they must function (perspiration and other elements that cause deterioration) that are not tested. 

Previous scandals with body armor that was defective in this way, initially 'passed' the ballistics tests, but failed alarmingly in the field under field conditions. 

Now, let's ask the government more about these tests, shall we?  I, for one, would like to see the field test notes.  How about y'all?

Bentley??? Izzat YOU?

Wow, reading about this next story made me think that our boy Bentley might be growing a pair. 

Desiree Mckay and Marcus Littlewind have six children together. The youngest, only 3 months old this Sunday.

Apparently sometime last week while Desiree was in jail for some minor charges, Marcus had the children in his care. The youngest child, three months, was rushed to Grand Forks for Shaken Baby Symptoms.

Desi was released on a PR bond and told that her son had less than 48 hours. Marcus says the boy quit breathing and he had attempted to blow in his face to get him to breathe. Failing to do so, he shook him "slightly."

MY ass!!!! The boy had head trauma with bleeding in the brain, every vessel in his eyes had ruptured!! Bentley charged Marcus with Domestic violence and abuse.

Marcus bonded out of jail. He attempted to go to the blue building to make a loan to see his son in Grand Forks hospital. Any excuse to get some ready cash, eh Marcus?

Bentley arrested him again and now he sits in Grand Forks jail awaiting the FBI. The boy will make it. However, he may become blind or severely brain-damaged and handicapped. The doctor says one day he may wake up and not be able to see.

It may take a while to see the effects but he will make it. Desi however stands by her man, as is typical when maternal instincts are mowed over in favor of narcissistic neediness. 

As tragic as this story is, remember: This kind of abuse is common out there.  The child has no value and only the self-indulgent neediness of the parents are looked after.

Bentley actually stepped up?  What next?  Arresting a Turd Blossom or two? Not likely.  I wonder how this story would have gone in the way he handled it by arresting the man, had the man or the woman been a member of the Turdclan elite?  I would hope, Bent being a dad himself, that at some point he would see that it is the children that need protection, not the politicians and not the corrupt. 

Kudos, Bent.  Let's see you step up more often.

Oh, and if you need to have a child beat up, shaken, drugged or abused, you know who to call.

The Ballad of Carl and Janice

Janice and Carl McKay.  Not that you would ever have seen their names or initials carved into a tree, a bench or anything, but it is typical of the kind of love story you find among the evil and the corrupt. 

Awhile back, waaay back, Janice was in desperate need to get married.  People say she went door to door to tell the mothers that their sons needed to marry her because it was their baby.  She started at the top (or the bottom, depending on how you look at it) begging and crying to Turdmother to make Weenie Boy marry her.

Turdmother was not about to let one of her prize pigs out with a lesser pig at that point so she told Janice to go to all the mothers whose sons she had slept with and tell them they were the one, and Janice had been with every mother's son.

Doors slammed in her face over and over again. Like a door-to-door salesman, she had disappointment after disappointment.  She would drop her shoulders, walk to the next house, and the next.  Most would not even let her in the house. (Slam)

Turdmother knew what she wanted for her boys and Janice had none of it, so she had none of her.

But a desperate son was found, whose mother cared not one whit one way or the other, and Janice became Mrs. McKay. 

According to Carl Walking Ego, that did not slow down her door-to-door sales, if you know what I mean, only it was parked cars that she would jump into to make a date, on the spot.  He gets drunk and he tells a lot of those stories.  Especially if he knows that she or Carl will be walking into the room or are off in the other corner and will hear the laughter.

Quite a prize ol' Carl got, when he married the door-to-door bride.  But she overlooks as many of his flaws as he is blind to hers.  Love can be so -- different.

Janice will, in one setting claim that people are just jealous of all their success and their money and tell stories that are not true.  Carl tells her to ignore those stories because those people are so jealous!

Next breath she is talking about how much money the Tribal Council is stealing and how awful that is.  Almost in the same breath, she will brag about how much money, sometimes cash carried in one of those Varsity Bags, Carl can bring home and they can do so many things they like… shopping, wine (the expensive stuff), those fabulous vacations, and jewelry… she just knows other people are just jealous!

And Carl tells her not to listen to those stories.  And to not listen to the stories that have him spending and stashing money she knows nothing about.  He assures her that he would not steal a dime that she was not aware of.  But she does not always know where he goes when she lets him drive the big car.

Goes to bars, and friends' homes and cries and cries about how much he hates her.  How she stinks and smells up the room.  How it always makes him mad that she treats him like a dog when she's the dog.

But he will never divorce her.  He is afraid to even let her guess that he is not her prince.  He looks the other way when she goes car hopping.  She knows so much about the other sets of books, and where the money came from and where it went and she will, because she has said she would, reveal all if he crosses her. 

Carl McKay's mother tells a good one: while she was standing in a line to sign up for free fuel assistance at the blue building, her son Carl saw her and pulled her away and just signed his pay check (a large one) over to her. He told her that his mother was not to beg for anything free like the rest of the people out there on the rez.

He would take care of her. Just goes to show how he thinks he and his family are better then everyone else on the rez. Besides, like Walking Ego, he has plenty of stash.  His mom none too happy that she had to go to that line before he even remembered about her.

She is none-too-happy that her daughter-in-law is the door-to-door bride, but at the time, she just wanted her son to be with a female as there were nagging doubts starting to raise questions as to his gender preference back in those days.  After the marriage, the questions were put to rest: He preferred dogs. Ugly ones.

How low are those lovebirds?  Well, at a gathering, when they walked in like Big Shots (some of you may want to substitute another vowel), Carl (I feel an Indian Name coming for him) was shaking everyone's hand like he owned the place and Janice just beaming and nodding like the Queen making the promenade, Turdmother turned her back.

The contest between who can steal the most from the tribe is a three-way contest between the Tribal Council, the Turdclan and the lovebirds.  I wonder who will win the next round?

Once Carl figures out how to steal money by taking out loans in the tribe's name, he will be back up there with the big players.  Right now, he just a wannabe.  Carl, for you, and Indian Name: Crawls to The Dog.  We will just call you Crawl McKay.

And don't worry, I am not going to mention the parties you have at the house in New Rock when you can get there without being followed.  Even though I don't think she will turn you in if she gets mad, it still could make your life a bit bumpy. 

If she turns you in, Crawl (see how that works?), she would lose out on all the good life she presently has.

Then again, she could get that 10-25% cash reward from the government for turning in a crook.  That would give her a few million to go find another groom to groom.  And, she knows where a lot of the cash is stashed and she knows you won't tell because you want it there for when you get out of prison, so if you add that to the reward money… hey! You might be worth more in jail than out! 

Yeah, better not make her mad at you!  Go buy her something nice.  It's okay, the Tribe is paying for it.

You know where to find me.

~Cat

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December 24, 2007 --Printer Version

That Time of Year

Things are busier than ever around here this time of year.  Probably much the same with most of you.  Time to remember to value family and friends and to consider how what we do can affect them, both in good ways and in heartbreak.

I urge that all of you, parents and kids alike, celebrate with moderation on those things you know could, as they have done so many times in the recent past, break the hearts of all who love and care about you.  Moderation. 

Let this not be the time of year when you feel you must lose all control to have a good time or be thought of as "cool".  If you are with your friends and they are real friends, they will think you are cool without you going to extremes.  If they really are your friends, they will want to see you live another day, week, month, year and have a good life, and they will not pressure you nor encourage you to drink and drug and run the risk of no tomorrow.

Time to look at what a real friend is in this world.  I have been fortunate in my younger years, when I was head long into my stupidity and recklessness, to have had friends whose opinions of me mattered and those friends told me "Not cool," and questioned why I was doing it or thinking it was cool.  Made me think. Helped me to grow up. Saved my life.

Lucky for me, my friends were real friends.  And since my teen years, we have been friends.  To this day, we are in touch, share, love and laugh as friends. 

So many are not that fortunate.  They have friends that are not looking out for them, but rather, just going along.  No one says: "Hey man, not cool."  No one says: "What were/are you thinking?" And so many of them either perish or succumb to the walking death of addictions.

I count my blessings.  It would be my wish for all of you, that you be able, decades from now, to count your blessings as much or as more, with good friends that last, not just a lifetime, but a long lifetime.

None of us had perfect homes.  But all of us can have good lives if we put the work into it.  If we push ourselves to get educated, both in schools and from our own studies.  Get the education that makes the mind stronger, and gives you the advantage in times where knowing more can get you more and even prevent a disaster.

Lose the fear of being left out.  Be the good person you know you would respect.  Don't be afraid to set your boundaries and hold them.

So much of what is wrong on the rez is cumulative damages incurred over generations of abuse to the point that no one knows what boundaries are and how they can make you stronger, get you further, and keep your respect in all situations.

Learn about boundaries.  Learn that what is done to you as a child is not your fault and you need not carry that as what you are for the rest of your life.  You can, as you get older, stronger, more educated, set your boundaries and become the person you are most comfortable with.

Antwone Fisher is an excellent movie to define, in the realm of true stories, how one disadvantaged and abused child grew up to be a remarkable man with a good life, and self-respect that is a lesson to each of us.

Don't allow the lure of peer acceptance to bring you down, poison you and destroy your chances of making a better life for yourself and for the children you have or will have on down the line.

Each Human Being was created with a purpose and brings a gift to this world. The gift or gifts do not reveal until on down the road when we can understand them and develop them and share them.

For each Human Being that is laid waste by drugs, alcohol, violence and abuse, a thousand gifts go unopened in the days and nights ahead when we need them the most.

I see so much talent in writing, art, music, athletics and comedy out there, just barely below the surface, waiting to emerge and to grow in the light.  But it is all being stifled by dirty blankets that are being laid over them, squelching their songs, extinguishing their sparks.

If your friends are your friends, they will respect your choices and encourage you to succeed.  If your family is loyal to you, they will support you and encourage you to become stronger, and to succeed. 

If your friends are not your friends, they will smother you with their expectations of your participation in things that will destroy you as they have destroyed others.  You will know the difference and you must make the choices because no one else will. What you do will either save your life, improve your life and your chances, or run them off the road into the ditches of addictions and alcoholism; or off the road completely into the the darkened bowels of untimely death.

If your family chooses to use your love and loyalty against you so that they do not have to do their part, if they try to make you feel that you owe them what you earn for yourself and your children, you need to step back and take a good look: They are trying to destroy you.

So when it comes to friends and family, you must make choices: Let them use you and abuse you, or walk away from them as they are lost.  You cannot save people by diminishing your own self.  They have to save themselves and you have to let them be whatever they are without it being your job to fix.

Remember:  People who love you are treasures.  People who love you do not USE you. People who care about you do not make you feel guilty about their addictions and try to take what is yours from you.

Life will be hard.  But don't let that stop you from having a good life.

Find out now who are your real friends and keep them.  Find out now who are just using you for their own entertainment and drop them.  It is a boundary that will make you stronger and enable you to get further in this life, this world.  It will allow us all to learn what treasures you bring.

Stay safe over the holidays.  I will do my best to put out a blog between now and NYE, as so much has already come in, but time will not allow just yet.

Take care and be well!

You know where to find me.

~Cat

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