Silence Kills Children 

By Red Ghetto Rebel

January 30, 2017

Lower Brule, S.D. 

She hides in the shadows with her razor blades and the reservation drugs twisting into her flesh attempting to escape that truth and this reservation reality. She collects nightmare memories in silence when her tribal leader uncle or her aunt’s husband or her step dad slips past the threshold of midnight toward her with his deviant intent.

 

All these days slip past into the next and the next and in silence she has to be aware that at any moment he may stare. His pedophilia is his god. He wraps his hands around the throats of the children in the camp killing them with threats and lies tying that woven rope of fate around their extended family necks. 

Someone should kill these pedophiles, men and women. Someone should castrate their souls. They need a mandatory lobotomy.

 

These tormentors enforce silence in lieu of a death threat or a life threat against the helpless children who they groomed to rape.

 

They have mastered the art of lying to the tribe. They are experts at luring your children into the darkness and shadows where there are no witnesses. Their victims are many. They prey on them throughout the night and daylight, hidden within the sovereignty slum, hiding behind tribal jurisdiction, extended family and enrollment like cockroaches in a bread sack.

 

These pedophiles rape children at will for the sake of their own perversion and silence is their weapon. The people are so deformed by reservation hate that their silence can be heard in the many suicides on these reservations.

 

These reservation pedophiles seek out children because they are easy targets in the ghetto drunken repetitiveness of the reservation. No one seems to care. No one wants to acknowledge the truth. They would rather hide behind the fake reservation-ism than face the truth. Their stigma is a stench that permeates the very air they breathe.

 

They would rather look away when their children get raped than expose the truth. The “Pervert” might be someone they know, someone they call relative. They can justify their silence with their need for dysfunctional family loyalty.

 

They would rather sell their own souls on Facebook and search for a new loser to snag and call a relationship then protect their children, just as long as it doesn’t affect their TANF check.

 

Every reservation Indian asks why the reservation is the way it is but seldom acknowledges the reason why the reservation is the way it is. It is because they are too ashamed of the pedophilia, which spawns the drug abuse, alcoholism, tribal corruption, meth, domestic violence, suicide, and oppression, to change it. This dysfunctional list goes on and on.

 

The root of all reservation evil is pedophilia. It is child rape.

 

Silence is a form of violence. Being silent is the damnation that all victims suffer. Their self-blame sickness seems incurable. They obsess over what they did to deserve such a punishment in the safety of their own family and tribe. It replays over and over until the rope or the needle speaks to them.

 

In a raging storm upon an unrelenting and un-forgiven sea, silence always kills those who ignore the suffering waves.

 

There are many types of silence. Witnessing perversion and remaining silent allows the pervert to molest the children under your roof. Being silent in the presence of the guilty allows the guilty to rape more children. Remember that when he sits in your home or on tribal council or by your children.

 

These ethereal spirits are born into this world by drunken women and inept men playing relationship like kids playing house. Like dogs in heat once unstuck they sniff out another. They both sacrificed themselves on the Indian reservation alter of welfare and sadism.

 

To a reservation girl silence is an unwanted companion, put there by the hand of the pervert who held her mouth when they stole her freedom. If she lives she will only live for the depression of the next day. A housing unit is a solitary self-confinement, windowless and emotionless. Its paper thin walls exposes the drunken dreams of the addicts trying to forget in the kitchen as they beat the women with the fist of tribal sovereignty.

 

Their lost soul was taught silence by the hand and the drooling teeth of their molesters. They were taught silence in the reservation right of passage of child rape. They were educated in silence by the example of their drunken Saturday night relatives dancing around the table like little “injuns” around the fire of drug abuse and alcoholism.

 

Your silence in the presence of immorality is why you are destitute.

 

Your silent consent is why you allowed child sexual abuse to thrive within these Indian reservation communities, in your home.

 

Your silence produced the meth addiction and the alcoholic.

 

The silent ways of you… kept this abuse alive behind closed doors and shut windows.

 

Bleeding to death through silence is a slow kill. Looking away from the crimes against your children is the cause of every corruption in your life and the life of the tribe.

 

A damaged soul is a corrupt soul. All forms of corruption began in that housing unit by the hands of the child molester that you allowed to thrive in the darkened corner of your silent consent.

 

When you refuse to admit that you knew what was happening but kept quiet because you were too cowardly to stand for all children victims makes you equally responsible for a child’s suicide and a dysfunctional tribe.

 

Protecting a pedophile relative who has been raping your tribes children isn’t normal, it isn’t cultural, it isn’t sane. Keeping the perpetrator from justice doesn’t make your demons go away. It doesn’t heal your own past.

 

How many silent suicides must there be before you confront the truth within you? How many children must die before you stop protecting the sexual abuser, the pedophile living next door or in the next room?

 

The cause of all reservation oppression is pedophilia. The scar tissue of rape never heals in the mind of the raped. They keep it inside and release it as rapists themselves or corrupt tribal officials or both.

 

When a dog gets rabies they are killed, when a pervert foams at the mouth and molests children they have social rabies and must be put down by any means necessary. Cleansing the reservation of pedophiles will improve the future of the tribe exponentially

 

When a mother or a person starts listening and believing the victim child, as tough as it may be, they start to accept a truth, a truth that will free their families from the throes of depression. Imagine what would happen to the tribe if all these men and women child molesters were banished for life?

 

Truth forces silence to come from the shadows of despair.

 

If your child is in danger… save them, if your child is suicidal… save them. Do this by listening to them. Quit blaming them, quit hitting them, quit burning them when they ask for help or when they speak the truth.

 

Some parents or parent are too lost to listen, some are too drunk or high to care. The sad thing is some parents are molesters themselves.

 

It’s not difficult to see a depressed child. You can see that they gave up in their empty stare. You know they are close to suicide but you refuse to allow yourself to do something about it for fear of the dysfunctional reservation retribution. To scared to “Cause Trouble” rather than save a child from suicide.

 

This isn’t traditional. Looking away and ignoring your people isn’t traditional. Judging others isn’t traditional. Chances are your child is next but you are too arrogant to see it yourself until you find them in your closet hanging from a rope.

 

It takes a community to confront a pedophile. It takes a tribe to end the silence. It takes only one person with a caring heart to stop a suicide.

 

Change begins when the people confront the rapist who they have been protecting with the excuse of extended family.

 

Our people don’t honor the good in our people anymore they honor the rapists returning home from prison. They honor the registered sex offender who raped a young native girl or boy, lured into their sadism because of the silence of the reservation people.

 

These pedophiles have names and some of them have been caught. A child rapist cannot be reformed by serving a couple years in prison. A cellblock doesn’t change the nature of a pedophile. Castration is the only option.

 

https://search.justice.gov/search?query=sexual+abuse&affiliate=justice-usao-sd&op=Search

 

The Indian reservation has become cultureless, void of the traditional social laws that governed sanity. Without following the actual tribal traditions the people embrace incest. They allow molestation. They normalize violence in the same way that the Black Robes did when they started the demonic tradition of pedophilia.

 

Pow-wows and beadwork don’t define a native society or the social stability of a native family. A child can get sexually assaulted in the same room a person does beadwork in.

 

The cultural laws of the tribe define appropriate behavior and respect. When a native community lacks or forgot their cultural teachings a pedophile can rape children without being seen as a threat. He or She can exist without impunity.

 

In an already socially sick community adding welfare to it is like pouring gas on a flame.

 

Ending your silence is the change you seek. You can’t find change in another tribally elected official, man or woman. You can’t find change in money or handouts. Poverty on the reservations is a mental illness. No amount of money can change it. Only confronting the demons within the tribes and your families can end the ubiquitous cycle of reservation oppression. A tribal leader, man or woman, who’s self worth was raped as a child cannot lead a nation without having a grudge against life itself.

 

Quit listening to your dysfunctional relatives telling you to be silent, stay silent, remain silent or their pedophile relative will go to prison if you tell or expose them. Obeying this reservation silence is more damaging to your child’s life then the crime committed against them. Without support, without truth exposed an abused child sees no hope in sight, they see no reason to live because they know the pedophile will return and they know no one will hear them. They will embrace death over life, while the victimizer finds another victim to rape counting on your silence to get away with it.

 

Salvation begins by listening to the tribal children. It changes when the people stop turning away from the children when they show the signs of abuse.

 

It stops when you crawl out of your addictions and start to care about the lives you brought into this world. A child doesn’t understand the meaning of their silence but an adult does.

 

Incarcerating the molester is the first step in changing the reservation.

LONG LIVE THE FIGHTERS 

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IT

By Red Ghetto Rebel

January 24, 2017

Lower Brule, S.D. 

Turning away from the truth doesn’t make the demons go away. Ignoring reality only perpetuates insanity. The only way to save your children is to fight for them or avenge them. To save them you must confront what’s wrong with these reservations.
 
Resolution only happens when you face the demons and drive them out. The reservation demons are real. They are living breathing flesh. They slither through the reservation slums waiting for an opportunity to assault your child.
 
Putting fictitious excuses on the cause of suicide or drug abuse is the absolute worst excuse that any society can make. Every suicide has a story but to remain silent and not tell their story only allows the pedophiles to reign within reservation communities on both sides of the river or the prairie.
 
There is an evil in our camps. She was born of depravation and perversion. She slips past everyone giving hand outs along the way. She buys souls for meth and money.
She seeks out her victims and grooms them so as to exploit them. She tells them that she knows them better than they know themselves. She will prostitute your relatives and embrace you as she does it.
 
She has killed countless young relatives indirectly with her perversion. When they kill themselves chances are she provided the drugs and the circumstances that caused it, chances are she drove them to it.
 
She ensnares her victims in her web of addiction making them dependent on her, obedient and loyal to her.
 
She plays her roles well. She can be a motherly security one day and a sister the next. But always she slowly drags her victims from the protective circle of their families to her trailer park nest so she can groom them with her dirty filthy hands and forked slimy tongue.
 
She has a taste for females and she is proud of that. She was groomed herself which is why she is so good at hiding her responsibility in plain sight and why she likes the women. You probably shook her hand or gave her a hug. You probably gave her money for drugs.
 
Her Billy bastard ways where engrained into her those many moons ago but the difference is she profits off the suffering of her victims while remaining indifferent. 

A tried and true sociopath with a bank account and a stash for later.
 
Once captured, she prepares her victims for sale. Luring them into her hole where she rips their dignity to shreds. Once she is finished she guides them through the path of damnation with the light bulb and straw of addiction.
 
She is the pimp. She is the pedophile. She is the pervert. She hides these personalities with the façade of lies and her seedy obese smile.
 
She hunts the lost souls of the reservation and reaps them for profit selling their flesh to the white men who depend on her product.
 
When she fully destroys the souls of the young girls she preys on, she pushes them toward suicide. She “subliminally” encourages it. She blames them in her consoling way. When her victims no longer hold value to her or to themselves she sacrifices them to her lover the Satan of suicide and pays for their funeral and their star quilts with the same money that she sold and exploited them for.
 
She embraces the families of her victims and tells them how she loved their lost soul. How she is there to help and how she is a shoulder to cry on. The same shoulder that her victim innocently cried on as she walked them to the suicide tree that they replanted together in their back yard.
 
She uses the same love she used to kill the loved ones. When she is done she wipes her brow and washes her hands and celebrates their life. She martyrs them to lure other young women into her hellhole of conformity and subjugation.
 
Every moment that she jingles change in her pocket or jingles her keys, she is looking into the eyes of the girls and young women to replace the used up victim she just threw into the pit of despair.
 
The truth is, if you want to know the truth, you know who SHE is. She embraced you when they lowered your relatives into their grave. She called you when she heard the news, which she expected to hear.
 
She slowly “drug” you from your truth into her lies so that she can walk away from her implication unscathed. She kissed you and comforted you as she groomed and sold your child to put that change in her pocket and those keys in her hand to jingle.
 

She
is reading this right now. Quivering as her sweaty palms clinch and turn. Once she stops reading this she will recite her prayer that the good lord watches over her. Little does she know that the devil, sooner or later, will want what’s due. God left her long ago just as the good did. 

He’s coming for you. The un-holy one is coming for you.
 
She will call you… because she has to. She has to keep her lies intact and her game. Some will follow her because they are her victims and don’t know it. Others will be forced to look. Forced to face the demon, face what’s wrong with the reservations and how people like her have kept this perversion and corruption alive for so long. They will have to face the truth and the light that comes with it as it shines onto her darkened sins.
 
The truth sets you free once you face IT.
 
The dogs usually cry when death comes. They cry today but not for death but because the redeemer walks toward camp looking for the banished and the perverted. Though they run he finds them.
 
The Great Spirit sends him when evil is in the camp. No white mans religion or bible will save you from your inevitability. Once someone shines the light of truth on you and exposes you, the un-holy one walks from the shadow of the trees, eventually you will walk in its shadow. He’s waiting for you there now.
 
He will find all your minions and those loyal to you. He will come as a disease, he will come as a cancer, he will come with indifference and he will have no mercy.
 

We called him for you

LONG LIVE THE FIGHTERS

The Suicide Nation

By Red Ghetto Rebel

January 22, 2017
Lower Brule, S.D.

 
“Friends, friends,
I have fought the sun.
He tried to burn me up,
But he could not do it.
Even battling the sun,
I held my own. – Rabbit Boy”
 
Recently a relative killed herself. The word was that she overdosed.
 
I imagined that she sat and watched the sun fly by. She slept and dreamt the shadows away waiting for a tomorrow that never came.
 
When she was born into the sadist temple her sacrifice began. In through the maimed and beaten spirit world of the cluster housing, entering the threshold of life and didn’t return from the doorway of her death. 

Her flesh remained behind as offerings for her dysfunctional family to fight over, ripping whatever materialism and violence they could from her remnants.
 
Vultures picking at her corpse and at the flesh of her dead and depraved youth that bleed suicide onto mother earth, while her lunatic parents vomit laughter into their snot rags as they molest their brood in the name of sovereignty.
 
Everyday is another slippage into the level beneath that which is above the horizon of human decency. Lowered into this pit by the hand that birthed her.
 
The walls of her decrepit house echo with depression and despair as another day and night are woven in to fabric of monotony. 

Was her purpose in vain? 

Her heart lays on the ground soiled with soot of discontent as the demons scratch at her door.
 
Suicide carries such a message. But it also carries secrets that were never overcome by the victim.
 
It is always unfortunate when we lose a young life, a young spirit. In the momentum of everyday a soul can sometimes become lost or we lose track of them. Some simply don’t want to be found.
 
I think back on what she meant to us all, to me and to those who cared. I think of the trail she walked. Looking back to her birth and the steps she took up to her death. I remember how unfortunate it was to be born into her mother’s sadistic world. Like watching an accident from a distance. You can only pray for survival.
 
I remember the candle of her life and when it was lit when she awoke to this world.
She wasn’t born into happiness. She wasn’t born into stability. He mother carried demons and demonized others with her pain. Sometimes there are far worse realities than a damn silver spoon.
 
Packed into the reservation cubical lighting her uneasy wick of anxiety as her candle of post-traumatic stress tried to shed its meager light upon the shadows of her insanity, while the molester lurks behind the darkened intent of their stench.
 
She tried to find the light of day in the lifeless eyes of her mother. In some manner and in some way the macabre illusions of the tomorrows haunted her, infected her. How would she know what form of violence will creep into her living nightmare?
 
The reservation is a harsh place for a young woman. Perversion festers behind closed doors. Pedophiles lurk in the obvious places. Perverts are great actors they play their rolls well. So when a soul enters this world they’re soon consumed with pain. Body burned by the hands of abuse. Shades of despair move behind the eyes of their innocence.
 
She had her secrets, as we all do but hers were horrible enough to want to die rather than confront them. The memories she hid ripped her soul apart to a point where life wasn’t medicinal enough to cure.
 
She existed in that cycle of aimless lucidity, waiting for the tick tock of humanity to end. She wasn’t free and she wasn’t chained… if anything she is oppressed.
 
The act of this assault comes from the violence around her in her everlasting burden of survivability.
 
Slowly her shadow of death crept up. Slowly she reached for the needle. She thought about suicide but wouldn’t seek help. If she exposed the secrets of her family and her mother she would surely be alone. Her own demons were whispering to her. When her mother gave her life she also took her innocence. She killed her child before she had a chance to live.
 
She was a pessimist and an anarchist because she had no choice. She was defeated long ago by the drugs and alcohol consumed by her mother and the welfare wellspring from which she flows.
 
No searchlight guides her in this stormy prairie sea and not one helpless hand reaches out to pull her out of her reservation uncertainty. If there could be any word to define the child plight in this depravity it would be insanity.
 
Children born of many fathers each connected to the umbilical cord of demoralized human-hood. The mother and the father no longer have the bond of love, they have the emotional scars of lust and addiction. They breed their own afflictions.
 
Some people in essence are born to hate. They hate themselves and hate their image. They become sadists, enjoying the pain that others endure. They will inflict pain just to watch the suffering of others or their own children. They will violate and abuse them and call it love. Any person who hates themself has a morbid and perverted interpretation of love. In their truth it isn’t really love at all but perversion and self-aggrandizement.
 
The mothers and fathers are children themselves. Never growing up, stuck in adolescence playing parent for the monthly bloody moon time of welfare. This paycheck is the poison that is killing the base soul of our native children.
 
Our relative who killed herself did so because of the pain inflicted by her family. It was by their hands that she gave up. Today, after the fact, they act out the emotion of love, mimicking the despair of loss because she died but in truth they only used, emotionally, sexually and physically abused her in life. They weep crocodile tears to the tribe to get that burial assistance money to buy more meth.
 
Even in death they still rape her.
 
In truth she was victimized and violated by their own mental suffering… burned there by the branding iron of our reservations last generation mother and father. The cycle that never ends… It turns and turns again with every rotation of grandmother earth.
 
If you want to know the real reason why her hanging tree still stands? You need only look at their own selfishness, their lust, and their addictions. There is no “tall dark man” taking the youth, there is no spirit that is to blame for the suicide for any child. This is just an excuse to put blame on a nonexistent cause.

The evil is you sister and your own perverted choices. 

The suicidal children lack hope and love from both their parents, a love that a welfare check or a meth addiction can’t provide.
 
She existed in this dysfunctional motion of violence even as she warmed herself under the sun. Her reservation is an empty soul of a place where children cling to hunger. They don’t remember the last time a worry slipped past them down by the river.
 
She was trapped in the crab bucket on the evening sunset in which she killed herself. Knowing and waiting for the darkness and all the creatures that scurry in its dusk to wake in their nocturnal premeditation.
 
Immoral colors hide the black and white truth of reservation poverty. Drunk off the fermented fruit of lies and greed… druggy leaches suck to their hearts content off the bile of reservation addictions.
 
A young mother with seven fathers can never escape poverty. The womb scarred by the needle of addiction and heart broken by the same.
 
The boys become fathers to many mothers and the girls become the mothers from many fathers. Ultimately and all waiting for the monthly payday promised them by a dysfunctional society.
 
Their eyes are watching you, they watch you wait for the next day and the next night. You may not see it but they are learning this sordid culture of oppression and welfare by your example.
 
There is no self worth in this primordial reservation. The soap shoved down the throats of our ancestors washed out this hope long ago.
 
Little did she know that this existence shivers in the presence of true culture and yet again it shakes in the light of hope. But her mother was a practicing sadist atheist where to pray is heresy
 
The suicidal are the ultimate victims of the “reservation” Indians.
 
In truth only you as a reservation parent can change it and only you can prevent it, if it’s not too late. Put down the meth and the wine bottle, cast out your selfishness and materialism, close your legs and wear a condom, quit molesting your children but for fuck sake do something to save your children.
LONG LIVE THE FIGHTERS

The White Man’s Dog still Kills on the Reservation.

September 4,2016

Dakota Treaty Territory

By Red Ghetto Rebel
 
Where do you think that all these social deformities began with our native tribes like Lower Brule? These sadistic behaviors of tribal corruption and child sexual abuse had to be planted somewhere. The truth is this… It was planted long ago in the violence committed against your ancestors behind the closed doors of Indian Missions.
“In 1634, Fr. Andrew White of the Society of Jesus established a mission in what is now the state of Maryland, and the purpose of the mission, stated through an interpreter to the chief of an Indian tribe there, was ‘to extend civilization and instruction to his ignorant race, and show them the way to heaven.’”
Christianity has been the downfall to all tribes. Our native people are too blind to see or are in denial of the truth, the facts and the purpose that Christianity has played in the theft, rape, genocide, murder, massacre, and assimilation of all our Native people.
“If it be the design of Providence to extirpate (root out and destroy completely) these Savages in order to make room for cultivators of the Earth, it seems not improbable that rum may be the appointed means.” – Benjamin Franklin, from his autobiography, 1750s
Praising the Lord Jesus while shooting babies and elders, quoting the Bible while raping native children, thanking their god while murdering natives for their land, praying to Jesus to have a successful day killing children at Wounded Knee.
“Europeans thought that the illnesses that were killing the Native Americans were a divine act of God. According to John Winthrop, God was killing Indians and their supporters to ensure ‘our title to this place.’ And as the ‘instruments of Providence, divinely appointed to claim the New World from its ‘godless’ peoples,’ the colonists felt it was their duty to destroy the ‘godless savage.’ In the words of Captain John Underhill, ‘We had sufficient light from the word of God for our proceedings’ — he refers to the massacre of five hundred Pequot men, women, and children at a village along the Mystic River.”
Many of our people embrace that religion of a race that killed their own Grandmothers and Grandfathers of long ago. Brainwashed by assimilation and generational violence, programmed to pass it down as a reality to their children and grandchildren while abandoning their own culture for the hypocrisy of the white mans religion.
“In South Dakota, some 100 former students of the state’s half-dozen so-called Indian Missions have sued the Catholic Dioceses of Sioux Falls and Rapid City since 2003. They’ve also made claims against the religious orders that ran the mission schools and Blue Cloud Abbey, in Marvin, South Dakota, which provided priests and is the final resting place of several alleged predators. They charge that priests, brothers, nuns and lay employees at these institutions raped, sodomized and molested them, often for years. Court documents, including testimony and Church records filed during the lawsuits’ initial phases, contain accusations of bizarre, violent and humiliating sexual abuse, along with the horrific physical abuse described above.” – South Dakota Boarding School Survivors Detail Sexual Abuse, Stephanie Woodard.
Sometimes the truth in its purest form is hard to hear. The truth may make you angry and hateful and even violent but ultimately it is the truth. What is the native truth? What is behind the curtain of lies that you cannot see? It’s the fact that you were programmed to believe in this great lie. Your have been deceived into thinking that the white man and his CHRISTIAN religion could save you. Look around you… what has changed? Poverty still is the culture of “now” outside your door, violence is still the social norm of your community. Where do you think this behavior began?
“Whilst our highly favored race, that claims to have a Divine revelation containing the purest moral precepts, sends to the Indian, emissaries that breathe out fearful curses against their God—that freely indulge in intoxicating drink, and induce the Indian to partake of it, in order to cheat him out of his lands, and skins and furs, and that corrupt his women under false promises, filling them with most loathsome diseases.” – Journal of the Rev. S. D. Hinman, Missionary to the Santee Sioux Indians.
You see my brothers and sisters you are in fear, you live with fear, you fight against the fear, you suffer because of this fear and what you fear isn’t really yours to begin with. The white man brainwashed you into believing his fear and his Bible so much that when someone stands and exposes his lies and his religion you defend him, you would act out violently against your own people to show him what a good “lamb” you are.
“We opened the door and went in. Sitting Bull was there and he got awake then. He had been singing and dancing and was tired and sleepy, I guess. We told him to go with us. I had hold of his left arm and I had my gun in my hand, too. I told him not to make cry for his people. We would kill him first. We got outside and he made a loud cry as his son came around the corner of the house, and then the hostiles came. His son, Crow Foot, came and was killed right away. He went down these tracks and died. I shot Sitting Bull in the left side. He fell with his face down. I shot him again in the back of the neck then. He was dead then. There were lots of shots then. We had a battle with the hostiles.” – Red Tomahawk
If you want to change your families and save your people from anymore generational poverty and violence you have to denounce Christianity and embrace your own culture. You can’t expect your children to survive in this world if they only know the white mans religion. They won’t know who they are.. They will act out and become suicidal trying to find their true Lakota roots/Native roots but the true culture of our people isn’t just the root history of our people, it is the true teachings of the sacred pipe.
Christianity is the weapon that was used to keep you from your own liberation and from your own freedom. Subjugation has become your norm today. You don’t take a stand against your tyrants because of this deformed belief in your oppressors Bible.
The corrupt Chairman has only replaced the tyranny of the white man. The creed of the new native oppressors like Mike Jandreau can be heard in the genocidal maniac extremists that killed your ancestors in the name of God.
“Damn any man who sympathizes with Indians! … I have come to kill Indians, and believe it is right and honorable to use any means under God’s heaven to kill Indians. … Kill and scalp all, big and little; nits make lice.” – Col. John Milton Chivington
Christianity created the reservations and the social sicknesses that manifested within them. They built their churches and influenced their Christian Indians into their own image.
You know what happened to the children at St. Marys in Lower Brule but no one said anything and no one defended the children. Yeah… You know who was politically raped by the Lower Bule Council and Chairman but again no one did anything.
Yes the abuses and atrocities committed in the name of god by whites happened but today there are no excuses to let it continue. Our enemies are in our camp they have names and titles, their only purpose is to do the Christian Gods will and kill your people themselves by the weapons of Christianity, violence and poverty.
If You Want True Liberation, If You Want True Sovereignty, and If you Want True Change it will only happen when you denounce Christianity and EMBRACE YOUR TRUE CULTURE. 
 

Long Live the Fighters!!!!
 

Protesting Apartheid in South Dakota & North Dakota

Dakota Treaty Territory

August 28, 2016

By Red Ghetto Rebel
 
The Dakota Access Pipeline protest is not just about water or land or environment, it has exposed political Apartheid. The protest brought out the true personality of these States. The legislative actions that these states take against peaceful Native people are motivated by racial ideals and unspoken subtle segregation that exists and is normalized in this area.
 
The States dysfunctional paternalistic attitude toward tribes is rooted in the true history of these governments and their political policies and actions of the past.
 
They don’t like their “Indians” protesting because a stand against their sin only entices them to sin more often, exposing their true personality.
 
In North and South Dakota it’s easier for a Governor to “act” diplomatic as long as you don’t have to deal with the truth. It’s easier to violate and ignore the Native peoples civil rights if they aren’t allowed to exercise them. When a white child has a confrontation at a school they are treated with respect to their constitutional rights, when a native child does the same they are put in jail. There is an intentional act to deny even Native children simple rights under the constitution.
 
Their belief of their own truth is opaque and racially legislated when it relates to Indian/White relations. There exists no empathy toward Native People in the implementation of segregated assumptions. This localized political environment festers segregation.
 
These States, which hold judgment against all Native People within the halls of their courts and governments, knife this judgment through the heart of equality and justice for all.
 
There can never be equal justice under the law in these States as long as this de-facto discrimination exists… but we Native people must not live in denial of this fact.
 
Having a couple of Native State Representatives on the state senate doesn’t solve reconciliation. It is an impossibility to throw a shroud over political bloody racism and call it reconciliation, just as it is an impossibility to designate a Tribal Nation a county and call it Tribal Sovereignty.
 
When a serious Indian issue comes up they simply send the Native State Rep out to pick up coffee and donuts. The truth is that there shouldn’t be any Native State Representative in the State Senate that represents a county that enshrouds a Native Nation, we aren’t counties, this is THEIR lie. It is a political abnormality… or to the State government a formality.
 
Tribal Nations who are expecting honesty and equality from the State Government is doltishness. There is no integration within their system. Yeah… their welfare system will take your name and the name of your Native children to make them codependent upon their welfare handout at the expense of your children’s lives and freedom but this is the extent of your integration.
 
When you were captured by the enemy, the enemy didn’t give you equality, they made you a slave, they took out their inadequacies upon the Native race with the whip of political racism and legislative discrimination. Why would that change now?
 
They will thump their constitution, like the bible, and quote equality but only when they are caught engaging in violent legislated inequality and segregation that they imposed upon Native people do they stutter upon their own words in the mainstream press.
 
These states don’t care what you believe. They hate the fact that you would have the audacity to believe in anything. They have their agenda, they still believe that Indian reservations are prisons and we as a native people and our children are the criminals.
 
This belief is what they teach their own children. It is their heritage and way of life that spawns generations of racists in Judges robes and jury duty.
 
What’s more damaging to the Native people are these racist colonial beliefs and how they use them to deny the historical fact that they are descendants of THIEVES & LIARS.
 
They brand it “discovery” in their history books and feed that to your own Native children to brain wash them with disillusionment that they are criminals and inhuman. Never teaching the truth that a race can’t be discovered by another race.
 
In the end they justify inequality with the slang of “Liberty or death” or “All men are created equal”.
 
This is their thinking… Why pollute the water of a white town in North Dakota when they can bury it along side a prison reservation? Pollution flows down river, bury it by the Indians, their criminals anyway…
 
Negotiating with States is a waste of time and effort, THIS is more than just a stand against pollution THIS is a Native American Civil Rights Movement.
 
If it isn’t a pipeline it’s a nuclear waste site on tribal lands, a Mining operation on sacred land, or a Nuclear Power Plant on the reservation… the list goes on and on and many times they find corrupted Natives who do their dirty work. On one hand they approve a Right of Way for Dakota Access Pipeline through their own tribal lands and denounce this pipeline on the other.
 
When Native people get tired of the violations to their human rights these states call us violent. When the Native people are fed up with injustice and inequality… these governors call us a threat. When our children stand up against a white bully they call that Native child a troublemaker.
 
A white Judge extending a “Restraining Order” against a peaceful Native person is the Standard Operating Procedure for an Apartheid State. An “Indian” taking a stand must be a serious threat to their segregated society and beliefs. To them they don’t see injustice they only see Reservation Criminals flaring up. They attack “Out of Staters” who support the Native people as trespassers and encourage bigots to run them out.
 
When a Native takes a stand against these States they expose a true apartheid that exists and is legislated against the Native who is tired of this segregation. The reason why so many tribes are showing up is because we all share something in common, BLATANT RACISM.
 
This protest has its Native opportunists running for State and Federal Elections, claiming to be the savior of “The People” and like all movements these opportunists get exposed.
 
But what is coming to light is the fact that these states are racist and they do discriminate against Native people, there is a duality in justice and the application of law that is designed to ensure that segregated stay segregated. The only way that this can change is through unity.
 Long Live the Fighters!!!!

The Survivor

By Red Ghetto Rebel

June 13, 2016

Lower Brule, S.D.

 

The soul is the essence of a human being. It is the blank canvas to which color is painted on by the hand of fate. This fate is the world in which the soul is born into.
Within this world we all carry the colors that paint the landscape of our souls. We were once blank canvases ourselves, painted by the hands of family, community and environment.

Parents become the medium that dominates the painting, if they are dark their painting is dark, if they have color their painting has color, if they are grey their painting is grey.

We all interpret a piece of art differently because we all have variations of color within ourselves that, in some way, can relate to the message that the artist is speaking to. Where there is color we find interest and where there is darkness we find concern. In either case we become the judge and the critic or the lover of art.

This is just human nature.

A newborn is the canvas embracing light for the first time, embracing the colors that they see through the windows to their soul. They are strangers to this world, they are strangers to life. Born without color or shade they are as innocent as the fibers that are woven into their human embodiment.

If it takes a community to raise a child, it takes a family to paint their soul.

When an infant is neglected or born of abuse the first dark colors begin to take hold of the landscape and the personality of their picture. If the medium is violence the landscape and the subject is violence.

Love is the only color that covers violence. But only by the hand of empathy can love change the meaning of a darkened sea or a stormy day.

With this being said…what would the reservation landscape look like to a child? How would the colors of abuse and neglect look on the smile of a child born into the darkened wasteland of oppression?

These children weep through violence, cry through the night. Often broken by the blurred shame and the muffled vulgarity of the alcoholics and the drug addicts who worship poverty in the next room.

They are painted in this dysfunctional emersion medium of abuse. Beer cans and needles are the sacred objects kept in their homes. The kitchen table is where the seventh generation performs their immoral communion. Tomorrow night will be a repainted version of the night before. The colors remain the same.

As the moon slips past in the unforgiving night, the fire of reservation rages within the cluster lodges of violence. They cover their ears when the fights begin. They hide their eyes when their arguing vomits onto them the shades of black and blue of reservation normalcy.

Separated by paper-thin laws and moldy sovereignty, these survivors are traumatized every day and every night by the madness of the insane artists.

What crawls out from their darkened corners isn’t a monster but an evil selfish imp who drags their innocent souls behind them into their colorless misery.

Survivors are those who are scarred by this reservation cesarean, their canvas is cut and burned by the knife of drugs and the raging fire of alcohol. They often dream of silence, they wish for the light of family to give substance to their existence but only receive black oily depression dripping upon their landscape from the eyes of their mothers and from the insanity in the hearts of their many fathers.

They are drug from one mattress on the floor to the next. Staggering through the minefields of grey welfare as they follow their mothers to her next one-night stand, because if she stands for nothing she weeps for anything.

Like a pet they are painted with the brush of mediocrity, a figment of the imagination.

Their inanimate and colorless existence was painted on this great reservation mural by the hands of the immature children who birthed them.

There is no love and there is no future in this cesspool of oppression. They are living pieces of art whose value is measured in government assistance. Their worth is defined at the end of every month.

The little survivors only learn of this horrible truth when they see their own image through the blinding reflection of culture.

LONG LIVE THE FIGHTERS