09 August 2012


"The crows maintain that a single crow could destroy the heavens. There is no doubt of that, but it proves nothing against the heavens, for heaven simply means: the impossibility of crows."
(Kafka, Reflections on Sin, Suffering, Hope and the True Way, No. 32)

I remember hearing a story about Sitting Bull. A prominent missionary, devoted to conversions, was attempting to frighten him into submitting. He explained the particular nature of heaven and warned—he would be denied entry into paradise should he retain his ways. If he wanted to go to heaven he needed to take the waters, and become born again in Christ. Taking his time to consider the matter, carefully, Sitting Bull asked, "Will you be there?" The missionary replied, "Yes. Of course."

"In that case I prefer not to go."

The impossibility of crows.

"Land acquisition and missionary work always went hand in hand in American history."
(Deloria, Custer Died for Your Sins)

We are crows bringing light. Hear us traveling in a community of clouds, a black bevy, a convocation of language. Time means nothing to our customs, they are older than a memory of origins. Here is a box. Let me open it. The answer: food, fun and fornication. There is no greater puzzler than I. The question: what is life?

"Social in impact, most Indian religious experience was individualistic in origin. Visions defined vocations in this world rather than providing information concerning salvation in the other world."
(Deloria, Custer Died for Your Sins)

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