In my mind, my America will never be the same

What it never used to be

Dirty secrets we all knew about


By the Myth, no, fiction, buy the myth

Spun by we who believe that we are white


And they are not


I can no longer look at the Washington Monument

The Jefferson Memorial

And they even resent Lincoln

Dragged kicking and screaming to the slave auction block’s

Emancipation as a last resort

All wrought by the original sin of Christopher Columbus

Discovery of an established Nation, already

Then the Spaniards came and golden conquistadores stole from the First Nations’ identity

And the concurrent Europeans who believe that they are white

Conquered the children of conquistadores while they destroyed the First Nations concurrently

And Europe, looking on, stole the opportunity to line their manacled coffers

Stenched through the middle-passage

With the stripes of human blood compelled freemen out of humanity

Inhuman, immanis, immanumission


Upon this structural repression our Founders founded a great inequality,

Wove the American Dream into the American Myth

And tore the country in half to preserve

The enslavement of innocence, lost innocence, original sin of a nation

And the American dream wove blight for those


We don’t see as white like us

We don’t see


Like the small, ‘60’s mid-western town in which the Music Man is set

Comprised in stark relief only of people who believe that they are white

The intellectual property of generations of people who believe that they are white who


Underneath Conestoga wagon wheels turning treaties into lies

The white lie

The Great Spirit exploded making of sacred mountains four great white faces

Looking down on First Nations

The fruit of gunpower big guns and sheer press of numbers desecrating the Oregon Trail


No.  We all knew these dirty secrets.

While we fell into our soothing dream

Until 7minutes and 46 seconds cut deep into

Christopher Columbus’ dream of bloodstained gold

The American dream

The American myth

The Washington Monument

The Jefferson Memorial

The tarnished Manumission of Abraham Lincoln

Dragged kicking and screaming to the auction block’s immancipation

The great lie

Of people who believe that they are white

In my mind, my America will never be the same


America will never be the same

Fact and Myth

Do scriptures have to be historical fact for them to be meaningful?  Is the Bible scientific fact, or spiritual truth?  Are the 7 days of creation intended to be about science, or about spirituality?  Did David have to actually fight Goliath for the story to have meaning?  Or does it serve spirituality better as an example of trust in God and the power that small ventures can muster against great odds?  Does the dragon in Revelation actually have to sweep a third of the stars out of the sky for the episode to have meaning?  Or is it an example of falsity sweeping away the lights of truth?

I say that sacred scriptures are more meaningful when they are not looked at as historical or scientific fact.  Myth matters more than history and fact.  Poetic metaphor, symbols, and myth speak to the heart, mind, and soul.  There is much more power in symbol than there is in a mathematical equation or scientific theory.  The theory of relativity does nothing for my soul.

Epistemology of the Heart

Life is short

You don’t know it when you’re young

Even in its brevity

Its brevity

Vast psychic distances are traversed

Infancy, adulthood, maturity

Innocence, strife, wisdom

Knowledge of joy and its wellsprings

Of grief and patience

Life is short and I love to live it

For all we know, this isn’t all there is.

For all we know, somewhere, some other reality

Where stars stood for a mythic sensibility

Substantial, not material

For all we know, this isn’t it.