So apparently I'm part Indian. And by Indian, I mean Dances with Wolves Indian, not Temple of Doom Indian. My mother is 1/16th Cherokee, which makes me just enough Indian that I can pretend to be oppressed, but not enough Indian to get a free government tepee. I should also mention that I intend to use the outdated term "Indian" rather than "Native American" throughout this entire article, no matter how much it offends me, which luckily turns out to be not at all.

Indian scalping a white man
Hats off to the Indians for taking it one step further.
Now I should probably point out that I know absolutely nothing about my racial and cultural heritage. Sure, I could research it, but that would involve research. I have a better idea: perpetuate cheap stereotypes and make shit up. And when I say stereotypes, I don't just mean the classy ones like in The Last of the Mohicans. I'm also talking about the quasi-demonic red-skinned murder imps from the old spaghetti westerns. Say what you like about unfair negative portrayals of people, but those motherfuckers were badass.

And because I only recently discovered this about myself (because it took over thirty years for the subject of racial heritage to come up in casual family conversation in the form of an offhand joke), and also because being white isn't particularly mysterious or exotic, I often find myself asking, "How can I be more Indian-like?"

I could smoke pipe tobacco, but that just makes me feel pretentious, which is not very Indian-like. I could watch people litter and then start crying, but that just seems really emo, which is totally not Indian, either. I could wear a bunch of feathers in my hair, but that would just make me come across as a creepy bearded drag queen, which is not the look I'm going for. I could get a canoe, but it would be useless to me unless it had wheels and a motor. I could get a tattoo of a dreamcatcher, but that would just make me look like a tool. I could open up a casino, but I'm broke and have shitty credit. So no dice on that one. I could get a drinking problem, but I already have one. Nothing ethnic about that.

Three Wolf Moon design
Before it was just a tshirt, it was a way of life.
I could kill a stag and make a loin cloth out of its skin. Then I could run around half-naked through the forest killing white men with arrows and taking their scalps with a sharpened stone axe in honor of the great triple-headed moonwolf, god of the bloody scalp harvest, whom I now worship.

And I will use the blood of my slain enemies as war paint to ward off the evil peyote demons of the spirit as I ride a flying buffalo across the astral planes of time and space. And I'll travel to the Land of Sacred Indian Drug Magic, full of majestic rolling hills of purple grass and fields of cosmic space pot. The psilocybin mushrooms will be bright blue and as tall as trees, and flaming white horses will shit out glowing rainbows across the starry midnight sky.

I'll live inside the hollowed-out carcass of a giant, whale-sized bear on the edge of the whiskey river with my fifty hot Pocahontas bitches. And I will make up racially insensitive and sexually degrading Indian names for every single one of them, such as Stroking Cock, Spreading Eagle, Punching Donkey, and Dances with Beavers.

Indian princess topless in a headdress
My lovely assistant, Giving Headdress.
And I will get drunk with the wolves and befriend a talking grizzly bear, and we shall have philosophical debates about the nature of the cosmos while smoking DMT out of a peace pipe. And I will learn the wisdom of the birds, and the melancholy poetry of the fish. And I will trade dick jokes with a squirrel as we watch a rabbit trying to hump a tortoise.

And then I will have a giant feast in honor of my animal friends that lost their lives in order to provide the feast in honor of them. And after the feast, my fifty wives will begin the sacred mud wrestling tournament, which will be followed by the sacred drunken orgy. And the next day, I will vow to kill twice as many of the white devils.

Okay, so maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. It's too soon to go full Indian.

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