All photos of The National Day of Mourning are now up, as well as the full audio of the presentation.
Posts Tagged ‘Plymouth.’
Who is to blame that the atrocities of the past? Pine Ridge, Wounded Knee, The Little Bighorn, Small Pox, and Genocide, are all swept under the carpet while the once majestic and free roaming Natives, as well as the buffalo have been all but lost to slaughter, urban sprawl, disease, poverty and revisionist history.
As the opening prayer was beat out on the drum this Thursday in downtown Plymouth MA I wept openly. I wept juxtaposing the beautiful almost fully extinct display I was witnessing with the apathy and exclusivity of modern religion. I wept for the urban sprawl and miles upon endless miles of gas stations and fast food signs which pollute the scenery, landscape, and bodies of my friends, family, and fellow man. I wept for truth. I wept watching fat children not pay any attention at all, and that their parent’s couldn’t care less. I wept for my cousin, fighting a war which is not hers, or mine, or yours, in someone else’s back yard. I wept in painful reminder that all this was a business venture,.. (keeping in mind the pilgrims were already free in holland.) I wept for the Native American’s, once bought and sold on the very shores of “America’s Home Town” I wept for the over 5 million turkeys slaughtered around this time annually. I wept for my dead father. I wept for wasted time. I wept because I am trapped in this mortal shell and can not fly high and away from it all.
Thanksgiving was declared a National Day of Mourning in 1970 when Wamsutta was asked to read a speech at a Thanksgiving celebration to commemorate the occasion, but instead of a flowery speech peppered with niceties, he instead took a lesson from their own history books and wrote a speech chronicling a few of the atrocities committed on his people. The response? Days before Wamsutta was to speak he was told his speech was unacceptable, and he would only be allowed to read a speech of their preparation.
Wamsutta instead began a now 40 year old tradition of protest and prayer for peace on top of Coles Hill. That year they were met with the token hatred, racism, and violence which has been the Native American lot since shortly after 1620.
I began a new tradition this past Thursday; one I had witnessed from afar in my youth, now one that I will continue into my adulthood.
Do this country a favor and learn who Leonard Peltier is.
An old cliche; but not only.
I believe this photo was taken in 2000.
Today Lauren and I took a visit to the Dungeon, or the basement and personal home recording studio of Larry Anzuoni, the third, though I’m glad to hear (verbally unfortunately), that Larry Jr has been known to hit the skins as of late.
We found that in playing You Can for people that we were often asked for a verbal back story to what was going on at any given moment, the hows and whys, as far as Lauren and I could guess to tell it, of how or why we got to wherever or whatever sound was playing. We had played the disk for a handful of people on our trip from Boston to Los Angeles, but felt that the first person we played it for in its entirety, Larry, got what we felt was going on on it right away, and most fully. Which, besides the fact that I literally met the kid as we both went to hide under the same piano in high school, in an effort to skip our respective classes,..was enough reason for me to once again trust his ear, and this time place our efforts in his hands,..or computer,… Which we are glad we did as we feel he added just the right touch of mastering to our forthcoming A Battle at a Party.
Oh, and, because he still has everything, including my old DD-3 delay pedal in accessible position, he gave me the old tracks we cut for Borden back in high school,…as well as all the other bands we were in back then.