The Fettermen Massacre, the Greasy Grass Fight, the Battle of the Rose Bud, all point to a last breath of defiance, before the redman gave up the fight against the whiteman, a fight which defined them both, now standing obscured by the fact that the descendants of the victors cannot convince—or have not attempted to convince —the descendants of the defeated that the victory is in keeping with their values. According to this article, linked to me by Ishmael, who grew up out west among some reservation Indians, Native American teens are increasingly likely to kill themselves.
See relative links below.
My first encounter with the word ennui was a French painter’s portrait of a listless Polynesian girl who seemed to personify the hopelessness of her race, living as they were under the colonial thumb. Ennui has been a common affliction among members of primitive societies living—forced or voluntarily—under a modern system.
Interestingly enough the link above, concerning suicides among Native American teens, references non-ritual despair-induced suicide, of which the most common sufferers have been middle age Caucasian males and teenage Caucasian males, to whom our predominantly materialistic world order seems to make the least sense.
The best indicator that there is something crucially and terminally wrong with the modern experience is that teenage and middle age males of the highest status racial group have been the most likely to reject this lifeway in the most definitive fashion, by taking their own life. In primal societies the two most devoted male age groups are the teens, fanatically yearning to express themselves according to their tribe’s masculine ethos, and the men of leadership age, who typically advise the younger men, having seen enough of the world to understand it for what it is.
James, played sports with a Crow Indian, dated a Navajo woman, she still has a piece of my heart. they walked off the reservation, embraced the great lie of consumerism, my father called me his little savage, I wanted to live 150 yrs ago, still do. rubbing shoulders with the Crow and Navajo was a great experience of my youth, my heart of heart still tells me this is all wrong, the way we live. Ishmael.
It seems to me, Ishmael, that everything I read, and write, and every frustrated person I speak to, echoes the fact that there is something—maybe a lot of things—about modern life that is fundamentally toxic to the human mind. On the other hand, the benefits to the body continue to seduce us. For instance, 150 years ago—a time I also find far more appealing to the soul than this time—I would be dead by a few years now, for lack of antibiotics.
This site and other writing venues have helped me deal with this in a positive way—and these are modern outlets, making our agreeing together about the way in which modern life is wrong on this modern device, a curious thing.
James looked up the word ennui, my response, Illegitimis non carborundum!
By all manly means, let us not let the bastards grind us down!
James, curious yes we use the tools of our time, just like the improved rifles the mountain men used, but you are right the soul is what is at stake. I see every generation slipping toward security at the cost of freedom. We are losing the right to defend ourselves, to speak freely, to think for ourselves. To embrace the nanny state, it is slowing draining my spirit, I was not born of this earth to become reliant on the corruption of the moneyed "Milquetoasts and Fauntleroys"that control our lives, quoting the words of Fred Reed. James you know the history of the world before us, life is not linear it is a circle, to ignore this is insanity. We are becoming two opposite camps as the issue Reed addressed, gird your loins my friend it's going to get harsh.
I felt this for decades, but until I retired from fulltime money grubbing I was not able to put my finger on anything. The system—I suspect—has evolved to prey on preoccupied earners.