Harsh Suicide Lecture

In the last few weeks, too many suicide stories have
arrived in my email inbox; I think it’s a good time to
discuss some painful issues avoided at all cost by
regressive and culturally infected Inupiaqs.

You see, my wife and I buried her first-born son
almost ten years ago; he killed himself. Lots of
folks have buried their spouses and parents, but the
lingering heartache parents carry with them after
tossing dirt on their children seldom dissipates.

My wife suggested that I qualify to express a few
insights to our beloved, yet browner neighbors and put
my overpriced literary skills to good use.

I’m lying, she actually ordered me to sit at the
keyboard whilst she lectured and I typed. She also
lectured that young men, soldiers, and police listen
to and understand my philosophical rantings.

I doubt so many. I speak to you all from common
experience and the need to feel part of a team of men
I admire.


Most suicides occur during the years after graduating,
or dropping out of high school.

I recommend counseling, but no fucking medications,
due to the disclosure laws involved in buying a
firearm, if you’ve been prescribed ‘mental meds’ you
may never be able to legally buy a gun. Wouldn’t that
be a fix? The best way to push a young native hunter
deeper into depression is by labeling him as a Prozac
munching whack job nut cake.

How fucked: forever disclosing on every firearm
application that a chap suffered from depression, was
prescribed medication, thus eliminating any chance to
legally purchase a firearm. Take a look at a firearms
application; federal law requires you to declare if
you’ve ever been prescribed any whack job meds. If
you check ‘yes’ on any of the questions, the nigger
goes gunless.

My suggestion is for all young men loitering their
rotten life away in the rural Alaska: to head off to
UAF or join the service. Permanent dwellings and butt
camping in a village is a recent behavioral anomoly.
Eskimo history is a tale of struggle and legendary
migrations. Getting drunk, beating yer momma, and
fucking yer little brother are recent adoptions not
seen heretofore. What was formally alien to this
culture has now been adopted, and reinforced.

My advice to our bored youth. Do anything; go to
school, hitchhike across America, fly overseas, join
the military, whatever, just get away from your
mother.

My wife asserts the idea that the affections of your
mommy will only poison young men over the age of 16.

She further asserts that young men out of high school
will only feel frustration from their mothers. It’s a
bit late for breast-feeding, from yer mommy’s hooters
that it.. This is a good time to see the world and
start a whole bunch of romances with exotic women all
over the country, and the world. “Eskimo pussy’s
mighty fine”, but take my word, there’s lots finer in
Scandinavia.

First things first: fix your fucking teeth, drop the
negro-speech patterns, and improve your respect for
women. More advanced cultures no longer treat women
as property and children as sex toys.

There really isn’t much for a young man to do in the
villages. Sure, some hunt, some have babies, and some
find work. I’m betting there aren’t enough jobs in
any village to fully employ all the young men-or the
young women. If you can function at a level beyond
your native inbred neighbors, leave town, and soon.

The military is a wonderful place for a young man.
He’ll be tested, toughened, and converted from a
whining pussy ice nigger, into a man of respect.
Heck, I know a lot of pretty girls that love a
muscular man in a uniform. Imagine how the local
girls will stare, when he returns.

Our first son rejected the idea of growing up, he
preferred to hang out in the village with his friends,
drink like a fish, do drugs and whine to his parents
for more drug money. If he hadn’t a killed his own
useless ass, I woulda been more than happy to feed him
a gun of my own.

I remember this phrase from a song from Charlie
Daniels, “Rich man goes to college, poor man goes to
work.” Don’t be that guy. It’s time to break the
shackles of your Native corporations.

Get a real education, not just the kind of training
relegated to drop outs, alcoholics, minorities, and
losers. Step up to the bat, and show ‘em what you’re
made of. Get a liberal arts undergraduate degree,
then load for bear and compete with the big guns and
fetch yourself a Masters or Doctoral degree.

Academic failure is acceptable, cultural low aim is
the crime. When put to the task, an Eskimo can kick
ass on campus better than any color o’ Negro. Current
performance is less than stellar, barely noteworthy.

*Shall I tirade over John Erlich's performance at
UAF? Fucker showed the outside world how embarrassing
a drunk native can be. If free access to alcohol
compromises your goals, your personal
responsibilities, and your hygiene, then yer condemned
to a pukey life in 'da billage'. At this point, I
understand how yummy powder burns are.

Whenever any local boys do well and nail a killer job
out of town or out of state, all I say to the lad is,
“Gentlemen! Step aside, and let the man go through.”


Real Native men have historically migrated towards
opportunity and better living, happily leaving their
previous dump. Those few that enjoyed a minimum of
prenatal care, my advice: fuck the neurotic
obligations from your village and get on with living.
Eskimos are only fascinating, far away from home.

Having access to cable TV and the Internet serves to
illustrate this gospel. How many of you kids are just
dying to get out of the village and see the rest of
this wonderful world. Ya don't have to hike to Mars,
the lower 48 is a remarkable place to visit.
Each state possesses its own identity, every region a
unique culture.

With so many indigenous detractors, every great Eskimo
man has to shatter moronic local notions and leave his
village. Greatness arises out of departure and
journey. What the fuck is so novel about this
thinking? Jesus never returned to Nazareth. He also
knew that village living has been a shitty picture of
filth since before Christ was a corporal.

Frank Zappa has a comic phrase on Shiek Yerbouti,
”maybe you should stay with your momma, you’re really
kind of stupid and ugly too.” Sounds like a whole
generation of Eskimo men, stuck at home, nursing from
dad’s tits.

For all you folks that have traveled, isn’t it strange
to return to your village? Present company, meaning
all you bastards, know exactly what I’m talking about.
Embarrassing huh? Rural Alaska is like a whole group
of dependent cling-ons, incapable of functioning
beyond their mommy’s supervision.

Take a look at the difference between the BIA schooled
men, and the locally schooled men. It’s sure bet you
don’t see many locally schooled men running your
native corporations.

An unintended outcome was a class system where the
locally schooled men were deprived of the
sophistication we see with the BIA men. I foolishly
assumed that these outside educated gents were college
educated, but it was simply their experiences outside
their retarded villages and exposure to functioning
cultures that provided such a wonderful veneer of
polish.

A well travelled and extraculturally educated native
makes the best example of a respectable Eskimo. The
kind of man we're proud to shake hands with. All
others require handwashing.

You sure can tell a locally educated native, but you
can’t tell 'em much.

Karl.