#John Lame Deer
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Another fine solstice image: Night Spirits by Inuk artist Kenojuak Ashevak (1927-2013)
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“Listen to the air. You can hear it, feel it, smell it, taste it. Woniya wakan—the holy air—which renews all by its breath. Woniya, woniya wakan—spirit, life, breath, renewal—it means all that. Woniya—we sit together, don’t touch, but something is there; we feel it between us, as a presence. A good way to start thinking about nature, talk about it. Rather talk to it, talk to the rivers, to the lakes, to the winds as to our relatives.”
― John (Fire) Lame Deer, Lame Deer, Seeker of Visions
[alive on all channels]
#night spirits#Kenojuak Ashevak#about art#alive on all channels#John Lame Deer#Lame Deer Seeker of Visions#quotes
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Before our white brothers arrived...
#john fire lame deer#native indian chief#leftistquotes#book quotes#quotes#quoteoftheday#book quote#life quote#beautiful quote#quote#quotable#ausgov#politas#auspol#tasgov#taspol#australia#fuck neoliberals#neoliberal capitalism#anthony albanese#albanese government#class traitor#class war#capitalism#anti capitalist#capitalist hell#capitalist dystopia#capitalist bullshit#eat the rich#eat the fucking rich
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"Before our white brothers arrived to make us civilized men,
we didn't have any kind of prison. Because of this, we had no delinquents.
Without a prison, there can be no delinquents.
We had no locks nor keys and therefore among us there were no thieves.
When someone was so poor that he couldn't afford a horse, a tent or a blanket, he would, in that case, receive it all as a gift.
We were too uncivilized to give great importance to private property.
We didn't know any kind of money and consequently, the value of a human being was not determined by his wealth.
We had no written laws laid down, no lawyers, no politicians,
therefore we were not able to cheat and swindle one another.
We were really in bad shape before the white men arrived and I don't know how to explain how we were able to manage without these fundamental things that (so they tell us) are so necessary for a civilized society."
John (Fire) Lame Deer, Sioux Lakota - 1903-1976
Be more like the American Natives
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"Before our white brothers arrived to make us civilized men,
we didn't have any kind of prison. Because of this, we had no delinquents.
Without a prison, there can be no delinquents.
We had no locks nor keys and therefore among us there were no thieves.
When someone was so poor that he couldn't afford a horse, a tent or a blanket,
he would, in that case, receive it all as a gift.
We were too uncivilized to give great importance to private property.
We didn't know any kind of money and consequently, the value of a human being
was not determined by his wealth.
We had no written laws laid down, no lawyers, no politicians,
therefore we were not able to cheat and swindle one another.
We were really in bad shape before the white men arrived and I don't know
how to explain how we were able to manage without these fundamental things
that (so they tell us) are so necessary for a civilized society."
- John (Fire) Lame Deer, Sioux Lakota - 1903-1976
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Before our white brothers arrived to make us civilized men,
we didn't have any kind of prison. Because of this, we had no delinquents.
Without a prison, there can be no delinquents.
We had no locks nor keys and therefore among us there were no thieves.
When someone was so poor that he couldn't afford a horse, a tent or a blanket,
he would, in that case, receive it all as a gift.
We were too uncivilized to give great importance to private property.
We didn't know any kind of money and consequently, the value of a human being
was not determined by his wealth.
We had no written laws laid down, no lawyers, no politicians,
therefore we were not able to cheat and swindle one another.
We were really in bad shape before the white men arrived and I don't know
how to explain how we were able to manage without these fundamental things
that (so they tell us) are so necessary for a civilized society.
-John (Fire) Lame Deer, Lakota Holy Man
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this land is your land
for @wincestwednesdays - americana
"Relax," Sam says, and Dean says back immediately "You relax," but that doesn't work because Sam, damn him, is so relaxed Dean's surprised he's still walking upright and not a puddle of dissolved bones, somewhere a few miles back on the sun-baked road. Where the car's sitting, steaming, the engine ticking as it cools, alone--
"You know what's wrong?" Sam says, and Dean gives him a look, and Sam says, "You know how to fix it?" and Dean rolls his eyes, and Sam says, "So what are you gonna do about it between here and that co-op in town?" and Dean says, "You know, this is how you talked when you didn't have a soul," and Sam laughs kinda soft, hitching his backpack higher.
Hot, humid, but not horrible. The fields growing up with something green. Maybe future wheat. Dean's not a farmer. The kind of summer day where you want to lay in thick grass and drink about twelve ice-cold beers and eat watermelon, or burgers off the grill, or a rainbow snowcone just dripping with every color, like remember, that time --
"Fairfield County Fair," Sam says, grinning. He drags his hair back from his forehead. Their jackets tied around their waists and Sam's sleeves rolled up to his elbows; if it gets much hotter out here he might strip that layer too and then, hey, free show. "Yeah. That was good. Other than the ghost."
"Ghost was easy," Dean says, "as was Miss Mindy the concessions girl. You remember, right? All that funnel cake?"
"I think I puked it all over the tilt-a-whirl," Sam says, dry, and Dean grins back at him so Sam rolls his eyes, but -- he remembers, and that's what matters to Dean now. When he's got this brother, stitched back together, remembering the snowcone and the tilt-a-whirl and also what it means, that they're walking side by side through this yellow afternoon, sweating their balls off.
A barn, past the next field of maybe-wheat. White-painted metal that's peeling bad as they get closer, but it's got a heavy fall of shadow in the driven-over silty dust and abandoned crates that don't collapse when Dean plants his ass on one, so it's good enough for now. "Could go for a snowcone," he says, and Sam snorts somewhere past his closed eyes and there's a thunk of his bag hitting the dirt and then scuffing away, through the silt, and Dean watches the world golden through closed lids and imagines. Sam sweating, long, his body moving sure through the shadow and then -- through the barn door, sliding on squeaky rollers -- and then into somewhere Dean can barely hear him except whatever he imagines might echo through the wall, but it's okay because he'll come back. He's promised that, now. Dean turns his head against the side of the barn anyway, his ear against the warm metal, in case there's some echo. Long night and a long day and a long night ahead and maybe it's lame but he's old now, or feels it, and he's tired. He'll take even an echo.
In the barn: dusty John Deeres, and tools Sam doesn't bother to describe, and a case of too-warm water of dubious age in cheap plastic bottles. "Thief," Dean says, but just to say it, and Sam shrugs and says, "Trespassing, too," but he cracks a bottle and hands it to Dean and Dean dumps it over his head, just to get off some of the sweat and dust. Long walk. Sam says dude and Dean says, "Bite me," but when he slicks his hand back over his head Sam ends up smiling at him, after all, and hands him another bottle to actually drink, and then -- bends at the waist and dumps water over the back of his own head, slicking his hair to black in the shade, dripping down and turning the dust to mud. Stripped down to his t-shirt after all and the water sopping the grey to dark. "See, I'm a genius," Dean says, and Sam scratches through his hair and groans like he does on other midnights and says, "Don't get ahead of yourself," but when he sits down next to Dean his hair's curling wet against his neck and he looks as relaxed as Dean's seen him in -- god, how long? Years anyway. Like Dean would see him sometimes in dreams, during that year that's pressed too close up against his back teeth, and he'd wake up on those mornings with his heart full in his chest and with a good mood, almost, that lasted until he opened his eyes and remembered what bed he was in and the mood pierced like a water balloon that hadn't popped right. Draining out slow until he was left pointless and limp.
Sun finally heading toward setting. Over the fields the air's golden, thick in that way of summer. Sky exactly the shade of a cherry '67 Mustang. Acapulco Blue. Sam's bootheels stretch out to full-length in the silt, past the mud-mess he made, and there's his legs long in denim. Dust on the hems. Dean leans forward, elbows on his knees, taking in one of those long deep breaths that when he blows it out feels like he's expelling air from decades ago. Lungs one hundred percent empty.
Big hand on the back of his neck. He closes his eyes. Sam strokes up over his head where the hair's gone spiky-wet and then smooths it back down, his thumb braced up behind Dean's ear. Heavy and hot.
"Gonna make it back to town tonight?" Sam asks. Like he doesn't know the distance just the same as Dean. Dean shrugs. Sam hums and squeezes Dean's neck, and then Dean opens his eyes and looks from where his head's held down like this to see Sam's heel draw up through the dust, and for his knee to press against Dean's, and then his hand dragging down Dean's back and then back up under his shirt, hot on damp skin, a big square heavy thing. Landing somewhere up between his shoulderblades. Dean wants it on his dick and on the side of his face thumbing his mouth and also just exactly where it is. Sam touching him. Over that last year, what he missed more than anything else. For Sam to touch him and for it to mean what it was supposed to, when Sam touched him.
"We've probably got the worst case of swamp ass this side of the Mississippi," Dean says.
"You remember that time in Tupelo?" Sam says, and of course Dean does. Of course, every single time, like some dorky glittery journal in his heart, he remembers -- Sam's face over his in Tupelo spattered with mud-and-blood and laughing at how disgusting it was, and doing it anyway; Sam's breath desperate at the back of his neck in Portland, both Maine and Oregon; Sam's fingers lacing with his in Colorado Springs, and Sam pressed chest-to-chest with him in Pittsburgh, and Sam's mouth blurring strange in the drunken dark in too many places to name. Dean remembers.
Sam lifts his hand, stretching Dean's shirt, and Dean feels the air gust up against his sweaty back before he follows it, unbending slowly, and then Sam's whole arm's shoved awkward up against his spine, his fingers and thumb bracketing Dean's neck, and when Dean tips his head back Sam's there to catch him.
"Gonna miss the show tonight," Dean says, slit-eyed. Salt in his eyelashes.
The county such-and-such. Volunteer firefighters put on the show, one of the witnesses told them. Not a big display but big enough to please the kids and the folk who hadn't got too cynical for it. He was kind of looking forward to catching it, just because. When was the last time they'd had a July 4th that wasn't some kind of miserable?
"Maybe," Sam says. His eyes on Dean's mouth. Which is so like the soulless version Dean's heels dig into the ground, some weird no instinct making him want to stand -- but then Sam's eyes flick up to meet Dean's, and he grins lopsided and dorky like Sam always used to, when he was okay enough to grin, and relief washes through Dean like stepping under a waterfall. "Could celebrate right here, though. Right?"
"You think that line actually works on anyone?" Dean says, chest blooming hot, and Sam says, "Guess we'll see," in a way that's frankly smug, and Dean rolls his eyes but he also swivels on his stolen crate-seat and presses his mouth against Sam's and gets salt-sweat and stale bottled water and also the good spit-flavor of his tongue, and so maybe Sam deserves the smug.
Birds calling in the trees by the barn, squawky-loud like they're making commentary. Sam's thigh hard and hot alongside his. At first Sam presses against him too hard and Dean grunts, and then Sam lays his other hand soft against Dean's cheek and kisses him sweet, instead, and then grips Dean's neck and kisses him just -- right, Goldilocks finding the right level of comfort. Dean lays his hand on Sam's chest and feels his heart go right out of himself, like a roman candle.
#wincest wednesday#my writing#wincest#highly recommend three versions of this song:#avett brothers for straightforward sweet#(and a music video actually worth watching)#sharon jones for a swinging funk#dave rawlings machine + i hear them all for Feels#and that was the one i listened to 5 times while writing this#from the redwood forest to the gulf stream waters --#<3
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Before our white brothers arrived to make us civilized men,
we didn't have any kind of prison. Because of this, we had no delinquents.
Without a prison, there can be no delinquents.
We had no locks nor keys and therefore among us there were no thieves.
When someone was so poor that he couldn't afford a horse, a tent or a blanket,
he would, in that case, receive it all as a gift.
We were too uncivilized to give great importance to private property.
We didn't know any kind of money and consequently, the value of a human being
was not determined by his wealth.
We had no written laws laid down, no lawyers, no politicians,
therefore we were not able to cheat and swindle one another.
We were really in bad shape before the white men arrived and I don't know
how to explain how we were able to manage without these fundamental things
that (so they tell us) are so necessary for a civilized society.
John (Fire) Lame Deer
Lakota holy man
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English Literature, Stories & Quotes
"Before our white brothers arrived to make us civilized men,
we didn't have any kind of prison. Because of this, we had no delinquents.
Without a prison, there can be no delinquents.
We had no locks nor keys and therefore among us there were no thieves.
When someone was so poor that he couldn't afford a horse, a tent or a blanket,
he would, in that case, receive it all as a gift.
We were too uncivilized to give great importance to private property.
We didn't know any kind of money and consequently, the value of a human being
was not determined by his wealth.
We had no written laws laid down, no lawyers, no politicians,
therefore we were not able to cheat and swindle one another.
We were really in bad shape before the white men arrived and I don't know
how to explain how we were able to manage without these fundamental things
that (so they tell us) are so necessary for a civilized society."
- John (Fire) Lame Deer, Sioux Lakota - 1903-1976
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i just really wanted to share something our Pastor said today
We are in Acts and today was Acts 3, wherein Peter heals the lame man at the Beautiful Gate.
A lot of fantastic stuff was said but something that really struck me was the phrase that is translated: "And he took him by the right hand and raised him up (v7)" has a very specific connotation to it.
We tend to think of that as someone offering a helping hand to get you to your feet but apparently the idea is that Peter seized him; it's less a gentle pull to get you back onto your feet and more a pulling you from the scruff of your shirt and planting you on your feet for action.
And the reason Peter handled the man that way wasn't cruelty or a lack of pity - he had much compassion for him! Our pastor pointed out that the reason is in Isaiah 35. I don't want this post to be too long but suffice to say that Jesus points John's disciples to this text when they ask if He is the Real Deal.
"Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
and the ears of the deaf unstopped;
6 then shall the lame man leap like a deer,
and the tongue of the mute sing for joy."
That's already great right? But what does this have to do with Peter and the lame man? Read the final portion of Isaiah 35 - I won't even share it here, go read it.
Peter yanks the man to his feet because they have a place to go, there's a walk to embark on, a journey back to Zion where the Redeemer has paved a highway for such as they; lame, blind, mute and dumb.
What a glorious God we serve that He would fill this new Zion with the unworthy and the sinner - that He would make them fit by His own blood!
Amen!
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[from my files]
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“Listen to the air. You can hear it, feel it, smell it, taste it. Woniya wakan—the holy air—which renews all by its breath. Woniya, woniya wakan—spirit, life, breath, renewal—it means all that. Woniya—we sit together, don’t touch, but something is there; we feel it between us, as a presence. A good way to start thinking about nature, talk about it. Rather talk to it, talk to the rivers, to the lakes, to the winds as to our relatives.”
― John (Fire) Lame Deer, Lame Deer, Seeker of Visions
[alive on all channels]
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Elder's Meditation of the Day April 4
"You can pray for whatever you want, but it is always best to pray for others, not for yourself."
--John Fire Lame Deer, LAKOTA
When you are selfish and you pray, you are requesting things to flow only to you. When you are selfless, you are praying for things to flow to others. The old ones say this is the highest form of prayer. Praying this way is according to the Natural Laws.
Great Spirit, today, let my thoughts be about others.
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“We all come from the same root, but the leaves are all different.”
–John Fire Lame Deer, LAKOTA
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"Beyaz kardeşlerimiz bizi uygarlaştırmak için gelmeden önce, hiç hapishanemiz yoktu.
Bu yüzden aramızdan serseri de çıkmazdı.
Hapishane yoksa serseri de yoktur. Kapılarımızın kilidi de olmazdı bu yüzden, hırsızlar da bulunmazdı.
Eğer aramızdan biri; at, çadır ya da, battaniye edinemeyecek kadar yoksul ise, bu durumda bütün ihtiyaçları kendisine hediye edilirdi.
Özel mülkiyete çok büyük önem verecek kadar uygarlaşmamıştık.
Para nedir bilmiyorduk. Bu yüzden bir insanın değeri serveti ile ölçülmezdi.
Yazılı hiç bir yasamız, dolayısı ile avukatlarımız ve politikacılarımız da yoktu.
Bu yüzden birbirimizi aldatmak ve kazıklamak durumunda da kalmazdık.
Demek ki Beyaz Adam gelmeden önce çok berbat durumdaymışız.
Bilmem ki, Beyaz Adamın uygar bir toplum için son derece gerekli olduğunu söylediği bu temel şeyler olmadan binlerce yıl hayatta kalmayı nasıl başarabildik?"
Reis John Fire Lame Deer
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Scripture Of The Day - March 29, 2023
John 5:19,20 - "Then Jesus answered and said to them, 'Most assuredly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of Himself, but what He sees the Father do; for whatever He does, the Son also does in like manner. For the Father loves the Son, and shows Him all things that He Himself does; and He will show Him greater works than these, that you may marvel."
We see that God shows Jesus ALL things that He Himself does. The more Jesus saw of and used--the power of God, the more power and knowledge He received. We too have sonship with the Father, and therefore the Father's power through the Son is released in and through us.
THE GREATNESS OF HIS POWER - PLUG INTO IT!
It's vital to plug into the Source of this power. In Zechariah's vision of the lampstand with seven pipes to the seven lamps (Zechariah 4:1-14), he sees two olive trees. Oil dripped from the tree's branches into a bowl; and the bowl, like a fountain, dripped oil into the seven pipes. The oil flowed from the pipes into the seven lamps so that they would continuously burn.
Romans 11:17 - "But if some of the branches were broken off, while you, a wild olive shoot, were grafted in among them to share the richness of the olive tree..."
QUESTION TO ASK MYSELF:
Am I tapped into and grafted to the olive tree, where I function and flow in works out of the rich and flourishing oil of the Lord's anointing?
GOD'S ANOINTING UPON OUR LIFE:
Psalm 92:10 - "But my horn You have exalted like a wild ox; I have been anointed with fresh oil."
The horn is illustrative of God's power, and the ox, of His strength. God's workings can powerfully flow through us, because the only thing that qualifies us is Christ's workings and the resultant anointing upon your life.
Colossians 1:27,29 - To them God willed to make known what are the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles: which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. To this end I also labor, striving according to His working which works in me mightily"
Ephesians 1:19 - "And what is the exceeding greatness of His power towards us who believe, according to the working of His mighty power."
The word "mightily" literally means "in power," and derives from the Greek root word "dunamis," from where we get the word "dynamite." This same word for "mighty" is used in Ephesians 1:19. This gives us a picture of the power of Christ's workings for us and of God's workings through Christ in and through us.
When we remain tapped into the oil source, we burn continuously with the light of Jesus. He wants to turn up the lamp, and He does it by pouring more oil into it. We are the lamp that dispenses His glory, He wants to pour more oil (revelation) into us.
John 7:37,38 - "If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink, He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water."
This quiet-flowing, endless stream of water is not unlike the ceaseless oil that flows from the olive trees' branches into the lampstand (Zechariah 4). The living water is the Holy Spirit.
QUESTIONS TO ASK MYSELF:
1. How would I like rivers--ceaseless rivers of living water (love of Jesus) flowing out of my heart?
2. How would I like the eyes of the blind to open, the ears of the deaf to be unstopped, the lame to leap like a deer, the tongue of the mute to sing?
3. How would I like to be always bearing fruit that remains for God's Kingdom through my Christ calling?
Isaiah 35:8,10 - "A highway shall be there, and a road, and it shall be called the Highway of Holiness. But the redeemed shall walk there, and the ransomed of the LORD shall return, and come to Zion with singing, with everlasting joy on their heads. They shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away."
Purity releases unrestricted power for harvest. The Blood of Christ has purified, washed, and cleansed us.
Affirmations:
I AM EXTREMELY CONSCIOUS OF THE WORKINGS OF CHRIST AND OF GOD'S ENERGY AT WORK IN ME.
I ASK, SEEK, AND KNOCK (MATTHEW 7:7) UNTIL I COME TO UNDERSTAND GOD'S PURPOSE FOR MY LIFE SO I CAN BEAR FRUIT THAT REMAINS FOR HIS KINGDOM.
GOD WANTS ME TO GO AFTER THE ANOINTING OF HIS POWER, NOT ONLY FOR HEALINGS BUT FOR SIGNS AND WONDERS, TOO!
THE RELEASE OF CHRIST'S WORKINGS THROUGH MY CHRIST CALLING EMPOWERS ME FOR HARVEST.
ALBERT FINCH MINISTRY
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