Bubba Dreams
And so it came to pass that Bubba drank many beers and fell into a deep sleep and a strange dream came upon him from out of the darkness.
“Hark! Who goes there!”
“It is I, Bubba, in search of someplace to build dwelling houses for my people. Where am I?”
“You are in the land of the Chosen People. Say, I don't believe you are one of us, are you?”
“How would I know?”
“Oh, your Momma and Daddy would have told you so.”
“Well, then, I reckon I ain’t. They always told me I was a Red Neck and Officer Opie told me one time that I was nothing but Poor White Trash. So I guess that makes me from the Red Neck Branch of the Poor White Trashes. You ain’t kin to any of them are you?”
“No, son. Look, you cannot live here, so just go somewhere else.”
“But it sure seems like you got plenty of places hereabouts to build a house or two. How about over yonder?”
“Look here, kid. The land from that river over there all the way to that river over there was given to me and my people. It’s ours forever and you cannot have any of it. And, not only that, we also were given dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth. ”
“Who give it to you?”
“Well, I’m not allowed to say his name but, trust me, it was The Big One.”
“Hmmmm. It don't look like that dominion thing is working out too well to me. All I see from here to there is a desert with a lot of rocks in it and that sign over yonder sez even the the sea is dead. Say, did The Big One give you a quit claim deed for the land by any chance?”
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly? Then how do I know it’s yours?”
“Well, it’s all written down here in this Big Book.”
“Hmmm. That looks a lot like a facsimile copy to me!”
“Well, it is actually. You see, we lost the original document a long time ago and have never been able to find it. So we just keep making copies of copies of copies.”
“Sounds might fishy to me, Mr. … what did you say your name was?”
“That’s none of your business, Red Neck. Now get off my land. And kill me a few Caananites while you're on the way out.”
“But the same Big Book that you say proves you own the land clearly says ‘Thou Shalt Not Kill’ right there in the very beginning.”
“You are starting to get on my nerves, Trash. If you would just take the time to study the fine print you will find that it also says it’s just fine to kill your enemies. It's something of an obligation, really.”
“And, I suppose the Big Book also tells you who your enemies are as well?”
“You just became one, stranger.”
At that moment Bubba awoke from his dream and was sore afraid. So, he had another beer or three and once again fell into a deep sleep and, lo!, a second strange dream came upon him from out of the darkness.
“Welcome! I’m Chief Seattle and who are you?”
“It is I, Bubba, in search of someplace to build dwelling houses for my people. Have you any land for sale?”
"You wish to buy our land? But how can you buy or sell the sky? The land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?
Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every meadow, every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people.
We know the sap which courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters. The bear, the deer, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the dew in the meadow, the body heat of the pony, and man all belong to the same family.
The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water, but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you our land, you must remember that it is sacred. Each glossy reflection in the clear waters of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father.
The rivers are our brothers. They quench our thirst. They carry our canoes and feed our children. So you must give the rivers the kindness that you would give any brother.
If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life that it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also received his last sigh. The wind also gives our children the spirit of life. So if we sell our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers.
Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.
This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.
One thing we know: our God is also your God. The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its creator.
Your destiny is a mystery to us. What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered? The wild horses tamed? What will happen when the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men and the view of the ripe hills is blotted with talking wires? Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! And what is to say goodbye to the swift pony and then hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.
When the last red man has vanished with this wilderness, and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie, will these shores and forests still be here? Will there be any of the spirit of my people left?
We love this earth as a newborn loves its mother's heartbeat. So, if we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it, as we have cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you receive it. Preserve the land for all children, and love it, as God loves us.
As we are part of the land, you too are part of the land. This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you.
One thing we know - there is only one God. No man can be apart. We are all brothers after all."
At that moment Bubba awoke from his dream, mumbling "I promise! I promise!" but understooding nothing of what he had been told.
And so it came to pass that Poor White Trash took domain of the Sacred Earth from coast to coast and killed the buffalo and blotted the hills with cellular telephone towers.
And, what of the end of living and the beginning of survival?
Just ask anyone in Corporate America today. They will speak to you of their destiny.
And, what of the Promised Land? You need only to read the newspaper or turn on your television.
"Hey, toss me a beer, will ya, Bubba? "I Dream of Jeannie" is about to come on."
"Here, take 'em all. They give me a bad case of the nightmares anymore."
“Hark! Who goes there!”
“It is I, Bubba, in search of someplace to build dwelling houses for my people. Where am I?”
“You are in the land of the Chosen People. Say, I don't believe you are one of us, are you?”
“How would I know?”
“Oh, your Momma and Daddy would have told you so.”
“Well, then, I reckon I ain’t. They always told me I was a Red Neck and Officer Opie told me one time that I was nothing but Poor White Trash. So I guess that makes me from the Red Neck Branch of the Poor White Trashes. You ain’t kin to any of them are you?”
“No, son. Look, you cannot live here, so just go somewhere else.”
“But it sure seems like you got plenty of places hereabouts to build a house or two. How about over yonder?”
“Look here, kid. The land from that river over there all the way to that river over there was given to me and my people. It’s ours forever and you cannot have any of it. And, not only that, we also were given dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth. ”
“Who give it to you?”
“Well, I’m not allowed to say his name but, trust me, it was The Big One.”
“Hmmmm. It don't look like that dominion thing is working out too well to me. All I see from here to there is a desert with a lot of rocks in it and that sign over yonder sez even the the sea is dead. Say, did The Big One give you a quit claim deed for the land by any chance?”
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly? Then how do I know it’s yours?”
“Well, it’s all written down here in this Big Book.”
“Hmmm. That looks a lot like a facsimile copy to me!”
“Well, it is actually. You see, we lost the original document a long time ago and have never been able to find it. So we just keep making copies of copies of copies.”
“Sounds might fishy to me, Mr. … what did you say your name was?”
“That’s none of your business, Red Neck. Now get off my land. And kill me a few Caananites while you're on the way out.”
“But the same Big Book that you say proves you own the land clearly says ‘Thou Shalt Not Kill’ right there in the very beginning.”
“You are starting to get on my nerves, Trash. If you would just take the time to study the fine print you will find that it also says it’s just fine to kill your enemies. It's something of an obligation, really.”
“And, I suppose the Big Book also tells you who your enemies are as well?”
“You just became one, stranger.”
At that moment Bubba awoke from his dream and was sore afraid. So, he had another beer or three and once again fell into a deep sleep and, lo!, a second strange dream came upon him from out of the darkness.
“Welcome! I’m Chief Seattle and who are you?”
“It is I, Bubba, in search of someplace to build dwelling houses for my people. Have you any land for sale?”
"You wish to buy our land? But how can you buy or sell the sky? The land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?
Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every meadow, every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people.
We know the sap which courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters. The bear, the deer, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the dew in the meadow, the body heat of the pony, and man all belong to the same family.
The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water, but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you our land, you must remember that it is sacred. Each glossy reflection in the clear waters of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father.
The rivers are our brothers. They quench our thirst. They carry our canoes and feed our children. So you must give the rivers the kindness that you would give any brother.
If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life that it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also received his last sigh. The wind also gives our children the spirit of life. So if we sell our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers.
Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.
This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.
One thing we know: our God is also your God. The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its creator.
Your destiny is a mystery to us. What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered? The wild horses tamed? What will happen when the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men and the view of the ripe hills is blotted with talking wires? Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! And what is to say goodbye to the swift pony and then hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.
When the last red man has vanished with this wilderness, and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie, will these shores and forests still be here? Will there be any of the spirit of my people left?
We love this earth as a newborn loves its mother's heartbeat. So, if we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it, as we have cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you receive it. Preserve the land for all children, and love it, as God loves us.
As we are part of the land, you too are part of the land. This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you.
One thing we know - there is only one God. No man can be apart. We are all brothers after all."
At that moment Bubba awoke from his dream, mumbling "I promise! I promise!" but understooding nothing of what he had been told.
And so it came to pass that Poor White Trash took domain of the Sacred Earth from coast to coast and killed the buffalo and blotted the hills with cellular telephone towers.
And, what of the end of living and the beginning of survival?
Just ask anyone in Corporate America today. They will speak to you of their destiny.
And, what of the Promised Land? You need only to read the newspaper or turn on your television.
"Hey, toss me a beer, will ya, Bubba? "I Dream of Jeannie" is about to come on."
"Here, take 'em all. They give me a bad case of the nightmares anymore."
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