Showing posts with label depressing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depressing. Show all posts

Friday, October 10, 2008

Thanksgiving



As Thanksgiving draws near let us take a minute to acknowledge the true meaning of the holiday, greed.

The story begins in 1614 when a band of English explorers sailed home to England with a ship full of Patuxet Indians bound for slavery. Behind them they left smallpox, which virtually wiped out all those who weren't taken as slaves. By the time the Pilgrims finally arrived in Massachusetts Bay they found only one living Patuxet Indian, a man named Squanto who had survived slavery in England and knew their language. Despite his past, he taught them to grow corn and how to fish, and negotiated a peace treaty between the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag Nation. Thus saving the Pilgrims from their failing attempt of a socialist society (which resulted in laziness, ending in starvation). At the end of their first year, the Pilgrims held a great feast honoring Squanto and the Wampanoags for saving them from death. The indians supplied most of the food.

After a while Pilgrims started telling their Indian neighbors that their Indian religion and Indian customs were wrong. The Pilgrims displayed an intolerance toward the Indian religion similar to the intolerance displayed toward the less popular religions in Europe. The relationship deteriorated and within a few years the children of the people who ate together at the first Thanksgiving were killing one another in what came to be called King Phillip's War.

The Pilgrims were not just innocent refugees from religious persecution. They were victims of bigotry in England, but some of them were themselves religious bigots by our modern standards. The Puritans and the Pilgrims saw themselves as the "Chosen Elect" mentioned in the book of Revelation. They strove to "purify" first themselves and then everyone else of everything they did not accept in their own interpretation of scripture. Later New England Puritans used any means, including deceptions, treachery, torture, war, and genocide to achieve that end. They saw themselves as fighting a holy war against Satan, and everyone who disagreed with them was the enemy. This rigid fundamentalism was transmitted to America by the Plymouth colonists, and it sheds a very different light on the "Pilgrim" image we have of them. This is best illustrated in the written text of the Thanksgiving sermon delivered at Plymouth in 1623 by "Mather the Elder." In it, Mather the Elder gave special thanks to God for the devastating plague of smallpox which wiped out the majority of the Wampanoag Indians who had been their benefactors. He praised God for destroying "chiefly young men and children, the very seeds of increase, thus clearing the forests to make way for a better growth"

In 1637 near present day Groton, Connecticut, over 700 men, women and children of the Pequot Tribe had gathered for their annual Green Corn Festival which is our Thanksgiving celebration. In the predawn hours the sleeping Indians were surrounded by English and Dutch mercenaries who ordered them to come outside. Those who came out were shot or clubbed to death while the terrified women and children who huddled inside the longhouse were burned alive. The next day the governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony declared "A Day Of Thanksgiving" because 700 unarmed men, women and children had been murdered.

Cheered by their "victory", the brave colonists and their Indian allies attacked village after village. Women and children over 14 were sold into slavery while the rest were murdered. Boats loaded with a many as 500 slaves regularly left the ports of New England. Bounties were paid for Indian scalps to encourage as many deaths as possible.

Following an especially successful raid against the Pequot in what is now Stamford, Connecticut, the churches announced a second day of "thanksgiving" to celebrate victory over the heathen savages. During the feasting, the hacked off heads of Natives were kicked through the streets like soccer balls. Even the friendly Wampanoag did not escape the madness. Their chief was beheaded, and his head impaled on a pole in Plymouth, Massachusetts where it remained on display for 24 years.

The killings became more and more frenzied, with days of thanksgiving feasts being held after each successful massacre. George Washington finally suggested that only one day of Thanksgiving a year be set aside instead of celebrating each and every massacre. Later Abraham Lincoln decreed Thanksgiving Day to be a legal national holiday during the Civil War, on the same day he ordered troops to march against the starving Sioux in Minnesota. But it wasn't until 1939, when President Franklin D. Roosevelt moved Thanksgiving forward by one week, to mark the beginning of the holiday shopping season. Leaving it were we know it today, the last Thursday in November.

The story of Thanksgiving is also the story of the birth of America. It is a story of greed and corruption, which happen to be the principals in which our nation was founded and still runs on today. Have things really changed over all these years? Maybe we are not kicking Native Americans heads around like sporting equipment, but we are still a nation of greed who continues to not learn from our mistakes. We polish the story of Thanksgiving into a homogenized version which forces us to forget our past. There may have been a moment where we sat peacefully and ate, but soon after we grew greedy and ungrateful and ruined it. It is a perfect example of the human race and America as a whole. I'm not saying I'm immune to it. I have credit card debt, not to mention a mean addiction to EBay.

So, maybe this year we should be thankful for what we do have. A crumbling economy in the middle of the biggest financial slump in history, er, I mean, pie, lots of pie.

Monday, September 8, 2008

CUNT.


“So Sambo beat the bitch!”

This is how Republican Vice Presidential nominee Sarah Palin described Barack Obama’s win over Hillary Clinton to political colleagues in a restaurant a few days after Obama locked up the Democratic Party presidential nomination.

Oh, and this.

I really don't like to get involved in politics, it usually makes me really stressed out and it's totally not worth it (i.e. 2000, 2004). So, this time I'll keep my mouth shut and just vote for that nice Barack fellow. He seems like a nice man. But, I just wanted to say Sarah Palin is a beastly shit-bag with a heart of stone (and a brain the size of a pea) and I hope she burns in hell (if there was one, but there's not, Alise).

Oh, and nice bangs, cunt.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Grocery Shopping

Just down Broadway and a left on Manhattan, lies the Food Bazaar. Nestled between the projects and the JMZ subway line like a genital wart tucked snugly between two labia, the Food Bazaar is the primary grocer serving the residents off the Flushing stop.



I can't even describe this place and pictures don't do it justice, but I felt the need to share. Misery loves company, I guess.



The smell when shopping here is always different though always stale. The rotten and/or soggy produce is consistently rotten and/or soggy. The lines are long and there is absolutely no order in which things are shelved. All and all it makes for an awful shopping trip, one you try to hold your breath through while moving as fast as possible.



Watch your step!



What does Goya have on sale this week?!



Rotten peanuts! I'll take a pound!



Fun around every corner!



Here at Food Bazaar the slogan reads, "Getting Better Than Yesterday!", this is, in fact, not true.



This is where I always hold my breath.




Look out! More locals.



There's always something new to discover at the Food Bazaar.



This gentleman was looking mighty fierce in his grey mesh tee.



The best part is at the end of this horrible experience, after your enthusiastic checkout service, they expect a tip.



Oh, who would have thought that something as simple as grocery shopping could be so... not fun?
I guess I'll have to do my shopping in Manhattan, not ON Manhattan.


No, thank you food bazaar.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Bushwick, USA


bushwick is a neighborhood in the northeastern part of the new york city borough of brooklyn. it is fifteen minutes away from manhattan by either of the two subway lines serving it.
it is my new home.

in 1638 bushwick was bought from some indians by a man named peter stuyvestant. i'm sure he didn't REALLY "buy" it, he probably just murdered them or killed their babies until they left, but anyways. in 1661 he ended up naming it "boswijck", meaning "little town in the woods" or "heavy woods" in 17th century dutch. which is now really ironic considering there are about two trees. it then became part of new netherland. isn't this all very fascinating? 
when bushwick was founded, it was primarily an area for farming food and tobacco, but as brooklyn and new york city grew, factories that manufactured sugar, oil, and chemicals were built. then in the 1840s and 1850s all the germans started moving in and along with them came beer (yay) and breweries. thus bushwick was dubbed the "beer capital of the northeast".

ANYWAY. blah, blah, blah, then starting in the 1950s everything started going to shit. this continued through the seventies. things just kept getting worse for bushwick. the 80s and 90s weren't any better. in 1990 there were 77 murders, 80 rapes and 2,242 robberies. geez. throughout this time buildings that were deemed unsafe were knocked over making it more and more desolate.


this is where i live.

this is where i sleep.

not really, but it was laying on my street. thames street.

down the street from my home are various factories and warehouses. one block down from me is a warehouse where they store and weigh garbage. 

this is a "cracker patch", so to speak. it houses a coffee shop and a natural foods store. $7 eggs anyone?


bushwick has a population over 100,000. more than half the population lives below the poverty line and receives public assistance. 

hey look, it's manhattan waaaay over there. hi manhattan.
so, i guess this is home for now.
sweet dreams, bushwick.
Photobucket