Take a stroll down memory lane. Grab yer dicks.
Top of the morning gents,
I'm hearing noises on conservative talk radio broadcasts that Alaska needs to convene a constitutional convention so we can rewrite an amended constitutional rule book, or even as some mean and scary hillbilly white folks claim, to compose a completely new constitution. It seems that common sense folks are on the wrong side of stupid contrived issues such as Trump's election was stolen, Dominion voting machines were hacked, ballot harvesting gave the election to Biden, the COVD-19 virus was made in a lab, the inoculation shots are poisonous, Centers for Disease and Control mask and vaccine mandates are unconstitutional and global warming is a hoax.
I don't care about the source of global warning and subsequent global whining, but walking through Viking museums in Finland and Norway, I saw 1,000-3,000 year old maps of the Arctic and Antarctic Oceans completely free of ice at both North and South Poles. Ice caps at both top and bottom of the planet fluctuate from massive to non-existent, relatively quickly, within tens of centuries. Zero polar ice caps allowed Vikings high speed strategic open waters, maritime dominance, and free reign to rape and pillage on all the world's oceans and continents. One other interesting fact about Viking maritime maps is recent ground penetrating satellite imaging has affirmed the size and shape of an ice-free South Pole, as nearly identical to old Norse cartography. The Roman Empire reached all the way to northern England and was repelled and pushed back by those pesky Vikings. Besides, at that particular time in history, the Romans had a massive illegal barbarian immigration problem and an uppity Jewish carpenter from Nazareth to take care of.
To examine another point of conservative contention, the riots at the capital on January 6th could've been a righteous protest, until stupidity took over and Confederate flags were waived and our tax dollars were grossly wasted on property damage. Stupid vandalism by 1-term president Donald Trump white minority supporters appeared quite similar to the Black Lives Matter riots that trashed your tax dollars.
One conservative talk radio host of distinction is Alex Jones. He's done a real good job of blending Republican issues with conspiracy theories that you cops may find a little schizophrenic. Okay, maybe a lot. If you see InfoWars bumper stickers declaring 911 and inside job, you've seen Alex Jones in action. Folks eat this shit up. Another silly assertion he's pushed is that all the mass shootings from Columbine to the present, are a product of the Federal Government inserting undercover actors and carrying out orders from some secret cabal of New World Order members. Mr. Jones is now in court, and hot water because he claimed all the grieving parents of the Sandy Hook Elementary massacre were bogus claimants and Hollywood actors paid for by secret departments of our Federal Government and Globalists hell-bent on taking away the 2nd amendment provisions of "a well regulated militia being necessary to the freedom of the people, and the right to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed."
My dumb ass idea to counter gun insanity and stupid mass shootings is to make mental illness a crime, drunk driving and domestic violence good cause to strip retards of their firearms, and freedom. The rights of child molesters is a sticky wicket in that most families embrace child rape and physical violence as forms of regular punishment and even expressions of affection. Go native eh?
Another issue you'll hear on conservative talk radio is that we shouldn't honor our national debt and stop paying taxes to the Treasury. The national debt has been growing since World War II and is a means to spend more than what we have in the banks. Sort of like a credit card. These debts are accumulated from our military and domestic spending, because instead of paying our bills like fiscally responsible motherfuckers, Americans vote for politicians that lower taxes, neglect galloping federal debt and praying we won't mind the bill that's still owed. The national debt is pert near $35 trillion dollars and divided amongst all us 350 million Americans, equals $100K for each of us. Every one of us.
In the last 2000 years, no nation has honored its national debt. The governments and currencies simply become bankrupt and worthless and the country dissolves. You've seen numerous nations fall to pieces. The Soviet Union is the biggest you've witnessed, but don't overlook the numerous African and South American nations that have become insolvent and cease functioning. At that point in a collapsing nation's history, dictators, drug lords and rich bullies are keen to move in, and take control. If I have to continue spelling out these historical patterns, I'm surrounded by real fucking retarded Alaskans.
To govern a diverse citizenry, requires Solomon's wisdom and judgement, not divisive bully pulpit. Blaming parties and poor races mirrors the blame for Jews wrecking Europe's economy during the Great Depression. Failed countries transition from a land of laws and systems of equal fair play, into countries of nonsense policies based on race, religion, province and clan. Throughout history collapsing failed nations are known for abandoning its non-religious secular values, votes and debates with old state boundaries and political divisions embracing extreme populist strongmen encouraging over the top, narrow minded church dogma, discrimination and xenophobia. Sounds vaguely familiar don't it. What America has inflicted on other countries to accelerate their failure, we're doing to ourselves today. Borrowing more than we can afford puts us at the mercy of our lenders and we've made a promise with our mouths we are forced to pay with our asses. Bend over nigger.
No-win political arguments aside, I like Alaska's existing constitution in its current form because it handles most issues that piss off majorities and minorities evenly and fairly. Where we find ourselves on these issues can shift greatly, and coincide with changes in the pendulum swings of popular sentiments from year to year, decade to decade and century to century. I don't care which way the wind blows, I just look for opportunities in the hot air blowing in any direction.
I was pleased to see the Alaska Supreme Court decide that each legislation will decide the Permanent Fund Dividend payouts based on the merits of debate, every session, and alongside the comparative importance of each budgetary item hashed out with majority votes prevailing. I know K-12 education is expensive, as are hospitals, highways, ferries, troopers, prisons and universities. The huge expense we allocate for Public Assistance, Medicaid and Power Cost Equalization will forever be argued and scrutinized every year at the capitol in Juneau, with or without our personal opinion really being a significant factor. Social and health services are in the same category as Death and Taxes, necessary and a real fucking pain in the ass. And wallet. When Alaska runs out of oil revenue, all of the above government functions will come straight out of the Permanent Fund, and our pockets. Taxes suck and taste really poopy. Death merely smells like dirt. And moldy dicks.
I don't particularly like the PFD due the powerful magnetic attraction for poor inbreeds that come to Alaska, draw food stamps, free medical, free housing, energy assistance and heating assistance AND a PFD check. Here in the Kenai Borough I'm surrounded by illiterate new-comers with southern drawls, dirty clothes, poor breeding and zero education baby making piggy families demanding carte-blanche handouts without a day's work.
When I worked the welfare desk in Kotzebue, I received a phone call about once a week from out of state eligibility techs asking about our generous benefits packages. I explained that 21 of the 28 Alaskan boroughs were exempt from Clinton's deficit reduction act that limits access to public assistance to 5 years. These gals sounded so black, so excited and couldn't wait to advise their clients. Pretty words like benefits and clients sure as shit hide poverty's brutal ugliness. And smell.
As we drain down Prudhoe Bay, I recommend taking away the PFD check as a minimum income tax payment with a steeply rising progressive income tax. I also recommend a state-wide sales tax of 4%, so that added to most 6% village, city and borough sales taxes, we'll be at an even 10% that's easy to compute and still under Anchorage's 18% sales tax on hotels and car rentals. The killer prices you see online or in newsprint for hotel and car rentals ain't what the bill on yer credit card will show. If you haven't traveled to Los Anchorage in a while, get a pre-moistened baby-wipe ready, yer gonna shit.
I like both income and sales taxes due to the vast yields we could harvest from the out of state teachers, military, oil and fish industry workers and the sale of their supplies. I know, all Food Stamps purchases, AHFC housing rent vouchers, Medicaid services and subsidized heating and energy bills are non-taxable (not subject to sales taxes), so we HAVE to kype their PFD checks. Don't bogart that joint and doobie slobber is real gross. Pay up nigger-lip.
I like property taxes because they're actually quite fair. If I live in a mansion, I pay out the ass. If I live in a trailer in Palmer with Jake Rogers, I don't pay dick. If we institute an estate tax and deduct half off our ugly children's inheritance, most of us won't have a lot to lose to Juneau when we die, but in cases like my slave owner ancestry, estate taxes are a pretty sweet way to skim the cream off the top. I'll use the Usibelli Family Mansion on Talbot Road north of Edmonds, Washington to illustrate different governmental raids: income, sales and property taxes.
Old farts all die, shit, piss, choke and croak, then the kids gotta sell the castle and pay Uncle Sam half, why not skim the cream early with an income tax on Usibelli's coal miner millions and pay it to Alaska before they retired to my farm and trailer court hometown of Edmonds, Washington? Coal extracted from Healy, Alaska has created a multimillionaire family. When I was a kid, I remember watching limousines pull up to the covered drive-thru entryway at the Usibelli Mansion and disgorge fine ass folks dressed to the nines, greeted with trays of champagne and live music. These coal millionaires moved south to Washington State and watched us dirty farm kids drink beer, smoke bud and build bonfires on the beaches along the railroad tracks on Puget Sound. Alaska ought to get a piece of that action by taxing the Usibelli millions as income tax, not fattening Washington State's treasury with property taxes.
Ya see, majority rules, yet the majority can be cruel. When we vote, the candidate with the majority wins our respective precinct seat, then when bills are voted upon in Juneau, the majority of elected officials approve them, sending them to the governor for signature or veto. If an even larger majority (super majority) can vote against the governor, the bill becomes law. Veto overrides are a nice way to keep governors (and presidents) in line and prevents any wanna-be kings from turning Alaska and America into a monarchy. A sad reality has arisen in Alaska and across America, white power is diminishing. When minorities coalesce into a majority, us whining white folks get the dirty end of the stick. The stick that's pulled from our butts.
Take a look at some elections where blacks, browns, Asians and homos voted in a block: us old white farts lost the election. Our candidates are relegated to history's trash heap. Both Trump and Biden will be one-term presidents like Carter and Bush Sr. and all four presidents have become annoying gadflies and silly anachronisms. In 2016, a large swath of Democrats I befriended hated Hillary Clinton so fucking bad, they joined the middle masses and voted for Trump. In the last election, so many Republicans I've interviewed after the election were so sick of Trump, they swung in with the middle masses and voted for Biden.
When Democrats pitched in with Republicans, we elected Ronald Reagan, hence the term "Reagan Democrats." Jimmy Carter was so awful that his removal from office in 1980 was a forgone conclusion. Nobody claimed voter fraud: we knew he was a goner. In the 2000 election a lot of Democrats swung across the aisle and voted for George W. Bush because they universally hated Al Gore as much as Bill Clinton. I fatigued of lunatic fringe news broadcasters claiming Gore won and the vote was rigged towards Bush.
History may not repeat itself, "but it sure rhymes" (Mark Twain). An echo you'll still hear today is evidenced seeing hillbillies and inbred redneck white trash emblazon their trucks with banners claiming "Trump Won" and "Fuck Joe Biden." This will die down soon enough and the 2024 election will allow new younger talent with western secular (non-religious) values to arise to the top of the primaries and hopefully on election day, to the fore. American politics was never intended to be a bipolar 2-party battle with old white dust farting geezers occupying the white house. If the next batch of candidates are our age and old as dirt, we're fucked.
White Power has diminished over the last 50 years and this country has gone the way of the dirt worshipers and mud-heathens leaving us righteous white trash, ignorant Christians and dubiously true patriots the minority. The majority is now Godless dykes, lesbians, faggots, niggers, chinks, spics and fucking Indians. Instead of sending wetbacks back to Mexico, niggers back to fucking Africa and Indians back to China, all us good, honest, hard working white folks ought to head back to Europe and get busy eating fine white pussy. Oops, sorry. After you bury yer wives. Got mud?
If Alaska does hold a constitutional convention, we'll see attacks on our 2nd amendment rights, and some I agree with. I think mental retards shant own guns, I also don't want psychotics fuckheads owning guns. Adding to this list, I believe convicted felons (like Chip Hailstone), drunk drivers, domestic wife/child beaters and sexual predators should be banned from owning firearms. I know, that would force Lorin Downing, John Erlich and Dean Westlake to forfeit all their firearms, but I'm cool with that. Those girl punching pussies are such egregious child and wife rights violators, we ought not let them add firearms to their small penis bully tool belts. In the VPSO training program it was lectured that a drunk driver will drive plastered 86 times before he's arrested for DUI. A wife-beater will punch the shit out of his wife and children 46 times before an arrest will be made.
If you ask Rachel Downing, Kathy Ward or Gladys Kagoona's daughter Toni, they'll all read you the riot act how many times these little neutered buttfuckers (Downing and Westlake) beat the crap out them, and raped them and their children. Rachel Downing lit my fucking fuse when she told me and bun how Lorin beat her and her daughters till they needed diapers and tampons. Got blood? Dean Westlake is a real prize in that he was a cop most of his life, a rapist and a wife beater. His son Talon will testify all day long from his jail cell how Westlake came home drunk from work at KPD and fucked both him and Autumn, then beat hell outa Lenora, just to keep her jaw broken and quiet.
I still have some issues with Kim Nay beating the shit outa that young man at the gunpoint, just for fucking his wife. Vernetta is a totally fine babe, yet strayed, a lot. Trooper Nay was one of my best friends and supervisors, but his health was 40 years accelerated and Vernetta was so prime, vivacious and snack-worthy. Old man Nay just needed a couple Viagra to keep his stunning wife tuned up and glowing. Okay, maybe a couple thousand tabs of Viagra, Cialis and Enzyte male enhancements. What bothers me is that she never hit on me. I've been seduced by lots of cops' wives, yet only sacked one of 'em. Okay, maybe two.
John Erlich was a major alcoholic and wife beater, and his son and wife will vouch fer that action. In the world of 2nd amendment gun nut trash I inhabit, I assert that "a well regulated militia" means our local governments were intended to have all of our contact info such as name, address, phone numbers and a detailed list of resources we have on hand and in stock, in case militia members are needed and gun owners are called up for duty. Sadly, this list shouldn't include a lot of our friends and coworkers. KPD hired a lot of dysfunctional alcoholics, wife beaters, child molesters and rapists. Westlake impregnated a 12 year old and Augie Nelson Jr. got that 15 year old girl wasted drunk, then fucked her. Billy Byrd was a full blown drunk, and missed as much work as Edith Melton. At least Edith didn't get her stubby little fingers on firearms.
True patriots are sober and keep their dicks out of little boys and girls. If you armed motherfuckers followed the law to the letter, "the right to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed." Obviously this excludes drunk drivers, wife beaters, child rapists and mental retard psychos, like most of KPD. We suck. Oh, and I admit, I've stolen shitloads of firearms over the last 40 years, bought and sold stolen firearms, and traded plethora illegal drugs and alcohol for firearms. Needless to say, in view of my blatant honesty, guns shouldn't be in the hands of dirty dealing guys like me. Criminals habitually break the law. I can't help it, it's in my DNA. It's my nature.
The right to privacy is written in our constitution, but if dip wads and nut jobs post silly threats on their anti-social media accounts, red flag them and seize their guns. If some dildo rants about killing elected officials or good solid citizens of any color on his Facefuck, Twigger or What's Upp my butt web page, send AST to grab all their pipe bombs, sharp knives and firearms. They can play with cap guns and toy penises. And wear KPD police uniforms.
I've researched upcoming topics that will be added to the constitutional convention and you're gonna shit. Social Justice is a notion that we owe pallets of cubic dollars to various groups of loser races for wrongs committed by my ancestors. Fuck 'em. If the roles were reversed, they'd be slaving our Rosie smelling white asses all day and night and porking our kids, eventually browning America into poverty. Oops, I guess that's already happening.
The 1940 census has European descendants as the majority voters, but over the last 80 years, the rainbow of colored folks, combined with LBGT-Q-CM-DF motherfuckers, have grown to become the new majority. We are outnumbered. Oh, CM stands for child molesters and DF stands for dog fuckers. I couldn't find a demograph to place them, so I included them with butt-nibblers, butt-surfers, and knob chewing fecal freaks. With our state and federal constitution guaranteeing everybody the right to vote, including lesbians and men who spooge manholes, "the future's uncertain and end is always near" (Doors).
When I use the term "western civilization", I'm implying religious and racial tolerance, democratic debate and majority votes that are the economic and governmental machines that feed and clothe the remaining 6 billion humans pissing and shitting all over God's creation. For a brief period, America was a pretty good concept of tolerating and welcoming immigrants from all over the world, so far as becoming the most diverse country on the planet. All races of good, educated and skilled human fucking beings are represented in America and have enriched our Dow 30, NASDAQ 20, Russell 2000 and S&P 500 companies with unbeatable talent. As of these last centuries, we've ruled the air, land and sea. We also kick ass in the heavens above, and solar system.
Similar to Dominion Voter Machine Hacks and the poisonous COVD vaccines, right wing conspiracy nut-tards claim the Apollo Moon flights and moon landings were faked. I'll go one step further and stupidly claim they were actually designed and piloted by Afro and Mex mud-geniuses and Einstein was really from Africa. Sure, do you smell bullshit? Make me puke. The sheer talent that used to fight their way to America makes me beam with pride. We've now flooded our country with illiterate and ignorant masses, leaving our betters vastly outnumbered. I may have a decent education, but I'm not even in the ballpark, nor cheap seats of today's innovators. Sad to say, the future won't be radically changed by the likes of me. I aren't dumb, well maybe a little. I found my footing in Alaska, land of free, home of the blind.
Racial Equity is a weird claim that only includes niggers and natives. These campaigns are bogus because not one advocate will support amendments nor adjustments for the suffering the Irish and Chinese experienced as slaves building the Erie Canal and the railroads. Racial Equity excludes Jewish prison labor under the Third Reich nor Slavs worked to death throughout the Soviet Union. I suspect it's because they "ain't black enough" (President Joe Bidusky).
A common theme taught in basic economics is that even if we spread the world's wealth evenly, sharing with even the most retarded, illiterate, religious fanatics like Gayle Ralston, within 10 years the economy will return to what we enjoy today. Yes, I case hard on our coworkers. But why should we insult everybody else and not our own? Cops are grunts. Emergency workers and responders we may be, but there ain't an engineering degree or physicist among us. I got hired in the public safety sector because I'm a poor, stupid and smelly southerner. I'm the dumbest guy I know. Plus I got nice tooth.
Gender and Transgender Rights are a thorny issue to warp Alaska's Constitution and I'm not real sure how the wording would read. How do we add non-binary breeding rights to bully dykes that demand our dicks surgically attached under their tattooed titties, hairy bellies, atop their tooth lined vagina lips and loose nigger-lipped rectums? Put yer money maker to work and polish up what God gave ye, but "never a beggar nor borrower be," including other peoples' pussies and penises. After we die and deviant doctors attempt to attach our dicks to vicious dyke broads and biker bitches, I forecast organ rejection and our dicks will separate from fat tranny girls and leap into their honey buckets of poop or into the dark hole of their outhouse and join the bones of 3 dead niggers. To avoid AIDS it's best not to put it in boys, but I'd cry thinking Mr. Wobbly leaping to his death and dissolving in a poop bucket, cesspool, cistern or septic tank. Sad day indeed. Quit wretching, I just chuked up into the back of my mouth writing this shit.
Gay and Lesbian Rights are difficult to analyze and the recipe for mixing mature sperm with baby poop shouldn't be detailed in Alaska's new modern Constitution. This sector of homosexual humanity only comprises of 1-2% of the world's population. We have famous faggots in the entertainment industry and ugly lesbians that ain't finger licking good like KFC. I still remember when my younger brother told me Elton John was a poof and I laughed when Michael Jackson was busted for porking little white boys in the ass. Michael had to sell most of the library of music rights he'd purchased to settle multi-million dollar child sodomy claims, California court costs, penalties and massive legal fees. Maybe Jews like to pork their little boys. Barbara Streisand was angry that California prosecuted Michael Jackson for child sodomy, so she posted a Twitter statement declaring "It obviously didn't kill them. And probably thrilled them." Just think, Robert Redford French-kissed this frog-nosed imbecile on-camera and tongued her shitter off-stage.
Michael Jackson will go down in history as the nappy headed faggot that shopped at discount garment stores for little boys' pants: half off. The little tar baby was born a really cute black kid, yet died a really ugly white woman. Senator Trent Lott claimed "all niggers were faggots and all faggots were niggers", keeping the Jackson family in mind, I'd be hard pressed to disagree.
Gay men are so weird. When Barry Manilow came out of the closet, I got mad. Now I know where all my brooms disappeared to. Liberace was another talented piano player like Elton and Barry, and SO gay. It must come as a result of handling so much ivory. Wait, wasn't the Kotzebue Jail packed full of fudge packer ivory carvers? Hmmm. "Adii, Adunci put his cookoo in my unnuk!" (Annie Cyr 1994). Must be the ivory. Or shoving pacifier nucks up their rump. I'll have to channel bun's brother bobby or Annie Henry to inquire what Clifford Davis was thinking when he rear-mounted an old drunk native woman, maybe they'll know. Hell, with those ass-sucking anal credentials, give him a job working for John Ward, Mark Caruthers and Paul Iyatungak at the Kotzebue Jail. Or I could ask Chuck Criss. After they buried him, all the other skeletal NANA graveyard inhabitants ran like hell and burrowed under the Catholic Church in Kotzebue to join the mass grave party with your ancestors.
Okay, that reference is too vague and innocuous to leave unexplained. When the Catholic Church saw thousands of above ground native burials all over Canada and Alaska, they shit. So, they disassembled the framed stands and busted up the little graveyard dog houses, loaded up yer entire native ancestry and buried them in giant pits. Proper Christian burial: have bucket loader, just need a couple thousand Inuit corpses. On the city and village maps, the water and sewer engineers were forced to route their work around these mass graves, but some bones still get tractored up (Dermot Cole, Fairbanks Daily News Moron). NW Arctic, NSB and Camp-U-piaq are the perfect settings for Poltergeist appearances and haunted buildings, when you build upon Indian burial grounds.
Looking back, it appears that Inupiaq elders prefer their remains be left up on stilts, in small memorial lodges, or simply put out on the ice (Howard Rock 1969). Imagine the massive piles of garbage and crow bait elder bodies all over Kotzebue Sound's ice covering if we continued century's old habits of dumping corpses, trash, dead babies and unnuk buckets out on the ice in front of town. Break-up would be a real breath of fresh air, giant floating trash barge and eyesore conveyor belt. Wave bye-bye to grandma and yer grand babies and practice target shooting last-minute scavengers with yer rifle.
Grandma Magdelene told me a sad fact about infant mortality prior to new medicine, hospitals and human rights. Babies died so frequently, and in such huge piles, Eskimos withheld naming infants until after surviving to their 5th birthday. Shit-poor prenatal and postnatal care for Eskimo babies kept the garbage piles on the ice just off Front Street gigantic and full of morbid treasure. If you see any creepy white motherfuckers out their picking the bones and teeth fer gold and artifacts. Shoot 'em and leave 'em where they fall. Seafood and underwater nutrition is color blind: the more the better.
Hell, stomping, battering and shooting multicolored folks is a family tradition for me. I'd happily place bets on your accuracy just to see the Burnors, Meltons, Geffees, Onaliks, and Allens blasted to shit if you catch them while they "pukkuk fer treasures." When I recall my memories of local natives and whites out at the dump picking fer goodies, they'd be too proud to be seen out on the ice along Front street in front of God and everybody. Picking them off from sniper hides inside the old AC Marina and adding to the mountains of trash, feeding more ravens, seagulls, varmints and schools of fish sounds kind of cool. Fuck me in the goat ass, I've changed lot, right in front of you assholes. After almost 4 decades in rural Alaska, I doubt I'll ever be the same.
I believe the changes ain't all bad though. Look at what has Alaska given me.
Alaska hired me to process fish guts and crab slime in Dutch, Naknek and Cold Bay, mop puke in jails on the Seward and Baldwin peninsula, truck garbage to city dumps in NW Arctic and North Slope. I got strong hauling freight from airports to the stores (AC, Cape Smyth, Everts and Frontier), giving me legitimate cover to perform narc jobs for the cops. I work above board as an expediter, laborer and carpenter, following orders from you armed badgers.
I took no bread from the tables of others, nor no jobs or scholarships did I take from other 907 negroes. You boys know my tricks: while working clerical, freight and janitorial jobs, I joined you coppers and undertook narc jobs as side gigs. I even worked narc jobs at school following Trooper Nay's boy on a date rape drug roundup at UAF and bagged a bootlegging professor flying booze over the Brooks Range.
I need to give credit to the villages and cities that built Rec Centers for me to throw weights around, get strong, sauna my shit and interrogate elders that provide fertile manure for these postings. I'm real old now, built taller and stronger than the punks wheezing the weight machines next to me, but now I get to retell horrible stories of working with you cops and long dead native corpses. Get this. Some old white broads argue and dispute the veracity of my tales, then look over at bun. She'll nod and affirm the accuracy of my horrible puke-worthy stories working under all ye soon-to-be bone yard tenants. Our sufferings become pleasures in retelling.
I'm not originally from Alaska, but Alaska's Constitution loves me anyway. I was offered public sector jobs that provided me with excellent Blue Cross medical, dental and vision insurance and a retirement/healthcare package (PERS Tier I) that pumps mucho dollars into local stores, gas stations and native clinics statewide. Just think of the money Alaska has paid in my 40 years of medical treatments at the Alaska Native Medical Centers and hospital systems. Fuck, we're talking Manillaq, Samuel Simmonds, Norton Sound, Denaina Vagina and the Galena Herpes Clinic. Mind you, I ain't IHS welfare, but I've been treated for dog bites, detached retina, diabetic keto-acidosis, inflamed facial injuries, colonoscopy exams, X-rays and MRI's for broken vertebra and teeth, plus eye exams up the fucking ass looking for leakers and seepers. I've pumped so many blood and urine draws I could paint myself red and yellow, and all via native hospitals: paid for by my employers and Alaska's Public Retirement System. Beat that.
Alaska's Constitution has provided us with quite a phenomenal statewide college campus system. I'd say a few billion bucks have been spent on this behemoth and I really enjoyed my time there. I brag of my degrees paid for by Alaska. But keep in mind, my scholarships didn't come from monies intended solely for my native brethren. The financial contributions were entirely merit based and on-campus employment: tutoring at Rural Student Services, computer lab and travel overseas promoting international exchange. No educational scholarship subsidies were harvested from Alaska Native Corporations. All Alaska and Uncle Sam. I'm special. My welfare and public dole came in the form of scholarship, tuition waivers, hourly pay, travel and a brand new car.
Alaska's Constitution works hand in glove with our blessed Native Claims Act and through regional and local native corporations, I was given work and paid rents. KIC and NANA hired me for bit work on the Kikik Spit doing clerical, inventory and heavy grunt work moving Eskimo Building furniture and Pillituq boats, motors, sno-gos, oils and replacement parts.
The opportunities that paid the richest was brokering the sale of the Bush Pilot Bar and Grill and all the coffee and snack concessions throughout the Fairbanks International Airport for Professor David Porter. The buyer was the NANA Regional Corporation and the payout was a fixed 5% commission on $1.4 million giving me $70,000 for a quarter year's work.
Pimping my wife's native membership in the Point Hope Tikigaq clan by way of her father, uncles and aunts, I was able to negotiate with ASRC a handsome pair of rents for our duplex in Barrow: $4K a month for years. These rents and payouts allowed me and bun to travel 907 and visit Clam Gulch, Nome, Anchorage and Soldotna, eventually giving us a chance to see Patrick Octuck, Phillip Philimonoff and dozens of Eskimos before they put on sunglasses, ditched their crutches and heavy luggage and catch their flights out of rural Alaska, to destinations far beyond Hubble's Telescopic reach.
I haven't been completely honest with y'all about my illegal hunting. As described before, bun's uncle was Edward Itta, North Slope Mayor and captain of the family whaling crew. He'd call over when they got a strike and needed help pulling the whale up on the ice shelf or shoot polar bears wandering near the whale butcher site. The whaling captain kept all the polar bears I shot. Hell, dumb ass white guys are good for some things, but I usually stepped aside and let old ladies and kids do most of cutting and stacking. The community snow machined out there in herds to cut and haul away millions of tons of bloody globs. My share of bloody globs I'd trim up and send back to Kotzebue, Noatak and Selawik senior centers and native elder councils free of freight charges via Solveig Naylor and Alice Hopson at Cape Smythe. Those two angels kept me to a 2,000 pound limit, every year. Gratis.
I'd help with Arnie Brower Crew (ABC Whalers) and also Lloyd Peter and Mary Ann Simmonds' crew (Patkotak Whalers). My front yard was stacked with endangered whale meat, blubber and muktuk allowing me to ship Albert Monroe a shit pile at the behest of James Mason at the Arctic Sounder. Hence the origins of my phrase "pink and black whale candy" I was quoted in the ensuing article. Fuck dudes, I sent major tonnage to Elmer Goodwin at the NW Arctic School District and Bella Woods: just cuz bun suggested it. I don't fucking eat the shit. Writing this, my wrist sure fucking hurts. So does my back. Funny, me and bun lived in Barrow 15 years, much longer than I lived way south in Kotzebue.
My neighbor often phoned over and told me that he was gonna borrow an extra snow machine and wanted to take me polar bear hunting, if I paid him for gas, liquor and green bud. His name was Gerald Nayakik, but his nickname was Alaq, and after our hunts, he'd snag a couple jugs off of me. We bagged quite a few polar bears up the beach near the whale gut and bone dump, north of Browerville across from NARL (Naval Arctic Research Laboratory), the old military base that now houses the Ilisagvik College. Easy shooting and after hauling them back home on freight sleds, bun would ship the scraped hides to Shishmaref Tannery. I donated one hide to Rural Student Services at UAF, sold one to Professor Porter, sold one to an old BIA schoolmate of bun's that lived in Browerville and the other we sold to Ron Brower when he ran the Heritage Center.
You coppers are well aware of these exploits, but thinking of Alaska's Constitution, Alaska Eskimo Whaling Commission and Native Rights, Land and Sea Mammal Harvest Legislation and local option liquor laws, its no surprise I got myself in trouble tip-toeing around all these disparate, racist and regionally specific regulations. I used bun as my cover in poaching polar bear, I used elder native kivgik, appuati and nulukatuk (traditional foods feasts) in Noatak, Selawik, Shungnak and even Kotzebue as a shield to butcher and stockpile tons of whale every year.
To supplement my crimes and bribes, and flying so much for Statewide Drug Enforcement I smuggled a shitload of LSD, liquor and marijuana to grease the skids on my illegal whale and polar bear harvests. I sent lots of contraband statewide with a clever insert of illegal drugs in frozen cultural foods other cultures would be terrified to eat and mortified how brutal traditional hunting methods were. Fuck it. Butchering goats, ducks, chickens, rabbits, caribou, moose, a million tons of salmon and crab (and three dead niggers) was good training for this retarded and vicious farm boy in cutting up big game like black whales and white bears.
Now, you explain to me how many rule books I've rolled up and smoked. Civil rights, firearms regulations, drug policy, local option alcohol initiatives, and Fish and Game rules. Fuck me. And we berate serial killers like the Butcher-Baker, Ted Bundy and that Ridgeway creep (Green River Killer) fer merely killing a couple hunnert human beings. Re-writing a new constitution or revising a new edition of Hoyle's Book of Rules won't insure Alaskans read it, understand it, nor follow it. I sure didn't and now you see an old man suffering compound guilt, decomposing his memoirs in an old folks' home.
Funny. Most days I feel pretty good about myself. It's only late at night when I awake from nightmares, that I get sick worrying, remembering and dwelling on the shit we done. I try not to think about the boys that died along the way, but their parents weigh heavy on me. Overdoses are self-explanatory, as are suicides.
Many years ago and latitudes south, I was awoken to an afro-dude climbing in my bedroom window, so I grabbed a baseball bat and gave him my best line drive swing: he just fell inside and on the floor dead. Dale Campbell wrestled and choked out his partner coming in the backdoor and Dennis simply shot black criminal #3 kicking in the front door. Okay, now what. I fucking wasn't gonna call the cops or ambulances, these niggers were just dead. Dennis and Dale were pretty upset at the scenario we faced, so we heatedly argued and decided the smartest plan would be to get rid of them.
Sure. We all think like a Hollywood movie, but ye can't leave dead robbers of the African persuasion lying around. Besides, all the dogs were spooked and trembling outside. Dennis suggested we load these floppy headed, loose necked dead niggers in the trunk of their own car and ditch the car. Dale suggested we dump them someplace, then ditch their car. My suggestion was dumber. I figured a 30 minute drive north to my grandparents wooded property up at 7-lakes near Marysville would be better staging area to plan the disposal of approximately 500 pounds of human bodies. We plopped the dudes in the trunk and with Dennis and Dale following me, we drove up north and after closing the gate, we pulled them out and dumped them in the bottom of the garbage fire pit. The sun was coming up, so Dennis ran down to the local fish and tackle store and grabbed food and couple cases of beer. This was gonna be a long day.
All three of us did some hefty chugs out of a bag of blow, smoked some serious crystal bud and started in on the beer. Our idea was originally to just bury these fuckers, but digging a whole fer 3 gang-bangers is nearly impossible, and since we already had a big fire pit filled with garbage, what the fuck. All three of us marched all over the 5-acre property dragging downed trees, branches and old logs to the fire pit and covered the 3 black musketeers, douched them with half the gasoline, stepped back and started burning. The remaining half of gasoline we originally intended for torching their Buick nigger-rig. But my thoughts were that a burnt out car looked kind of fishy. Genius ain't I? So we agreed that leaving that big old clunker parked somewhere was like hiding shit in plain sight.
We cut and dragged branches, dead trees and punk logs to the fire pit all fucking day and kept our funeral pyre hot a shit until dark the next evening. We're talking nuclear hot enough to melt mountains of garbage including beer bottles and cans and leaving us three white boys with red faces smeared with soot like crazy Indians on the war path.
I scavenged all the old gallons of paint and used motor oil my grandpa had stacked in his tool shed. I also gathered a half dozen old tires rotting away in the ditch, behind the tool shed and a couple soggy worn tires dumped in the woods we were dragging branches and stumps from. As we tossed branches and logs on the fire, we judiciously tossed in a tire or can of paint or oil, just to get our garbage fire pit super hot and forcing us to stand back to avoid the intense heat. We also downed refreshments. The bags of blow and green bud kept us working all damn day and the beer delicious and cold.
I ran the garden hose all over the trunk of their old Electra 225, then drove down the highway a short stretch to a cool look-out rest area, parked their car, tossed the keys off the bluff and hitched a ride back to my grandparents property with Dennis. That evening, after a whole day of burning and clearing brush and burning garbage, tires, paints and used motor oil, we crashed in the trailer and waited for the fire pit to burn down and see if we completed our mission.
We slept pretty well considering we were punk kids: scared, nervous and worried sick. The fire pit was cooled down enough to pull log ends out and sort out our ash pile. Yup, the remnants were just ash, burnt rusty metal, melted glass and a nightmare of ribs, legs and 3 fucking skulls. No soft tissue remained, the bones were completely burnt and crumbled when I stomped on them, so everything was easy to shovel into a wheelbarrow, but nowhere to dump all this ash, garbage and scary Halloween bones.
Dennis was the smartest and instead of digging another hole for our wheelbarrows of burnt trash, he suggested we simply drag the outhouse aside and dump everything down inside. The outhouse wouldn't budge without the help of a hefty rope and my old 66 Dodge Dart, but the hole was nasty, deep and sufficient to dump about 3 or 4 heaping wheelbarrows of burnt garbage and ash down inside.
After I raked out the entire fire pit for all the ashes, every bit of skeletal evidence, we hauled a couple tons of burnt ashes and metal shit, crushed skulls and bones and dumped them down in the shit. Then we scattered shovels of fresh dirt over the ashes and burnt metal, then dumped a couple bags of grandpa's garden steer manure and even more bags of his outhouse lime powder all over fucking everything. We hooked the old Dodge Dart up on the other side of the outhouse and pulled the blasted heavy motherfucker back over the shit hole.
I've since visited and partied at grandpa's 7-lakes property and felt real leary about that outhouse. Grass grew up all around it, my buddies and pals pissed a hunnert gallons of beer foam and shit layers of loose beer stools, eventually creating a nasty and repulsive ash, bones and burnt garbage camouflage. Their old Buick Electra 225 was likely towed and impounded and I've never seen another ghetto-mod nigger-rig like it since.
I've yet to even tell my best friends the guns I kyped off the dead niggers were sold into the druggy white crime network of Mountlake Terrace, Washington. Of course, after I oiled them and wiped 'em down so they look real perty. My grandparents' property has been sold and developed years ago and I believe I can confess my sins to a bunch of retired cops. I'm either quite clever, or as retarded as I fear.
See? After living on farms and drug houses in Washington, burning dead gang-bangers, butchering land and sea mammals in Alaska, growing old and dying is always easier when I put it all in perspective. After telling this tale to the Commander in 1996, Dave Craig understood, then said, "If you acted in self-defense and honestly believe you had no other choice, I wouldn't worry about it Karl."
David lectured to me that his church isn't in the practice of granting forgiveness, nor penance or contrition, and that we all are on our own with our relation with whatever creator you put faith in. Goddamned smart-ass Mormons. I wasn't fishing fer approval, but we all know it's good to get it whenever possible. "Hey Mr. X, the next time I ask you what's on yer mind, I'll know better and keep my mouth shut." Thanks a lot Dave.
"We'll just call these experiences training for duties yet to come in the service of our community." He offered the lame explanation that these accumulated nightmares are merely character building experiences. Old man Craig further offered a bit of shitty trivia about PTSD and its long-term effects on the function of the brain, our endocrine system and stress responses us fuckheads display for the remainder of our shitty existence here in rural Alaska. Like beaten children and battered women we carry to the ER, hand over to the drunk old bitch at DFYS or the Shelter at the FR Ferguson Building, our shadow is our only companion.
David thought for a moment, then explained that we have reasons for our industrial drug consumption and thirst for alcohol that's so great, it casts its own shadow. If not for his strict adherence to his church's dietary and health guidelines, he'd likely swim laps in Jameson's Irish Whiskey and be a complete soak like his parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents. Childhood alcoholic trauma is the reason David Craig was raised in an orphanage and can't remember what his parents and gramps even looked like. It's also the reason he ended up in Kotzebue working with you lot.
We'll all be fine, maybe, but the recipients of your rescues, emergency trauma services and medical transports are all in the same boat, alone, misunderstood, and unloved. Old man David Craig has passed away, as most of our coworkers. At least I got you guys.
In summation, I just gotta follow the doctors' orders, lift weights one hour a day, document my waking blood pressure and fasting blood sugar every morning, abstain from all alcohol and drugs and I'll stay out of the ER and ICU. Adii, listening to conservative talk radio will drive me to drink. So will listening to the nurse practitioners at Denaina Vagina Health Center. Adding to my monastic healthy boring fucking life, I gotta follow the rules and regulations that apply to each reservation, race, village, borough, and hunting season. And I'll stay out of jail.
Sure. I can't find David Craig anywhere around here at the rest home, but I might have some Irish Whiskey around.
Drink anyone?
Karl.
I'm hearing noises on conservative talk radio broadcasts that Alaska needs to convene a constitutional convention so we can rewrite an amended constitutional rule book, or even as some mean and scary hillbilly white folks claim, to compose a completely new constitution. It seems that common sense folks are on the wrong side of stupid contrived issues such as Trump's election was stolen, Dominion voting machines were hacked, ballot harvesting gave the election to Biden, the COVD-19 virus was made in a lab, the inoculation shots are poisonous, Centers for Disease and Control mask and vaccine mandates are unconstitutional and global warming is a hoax.
I don't care about the source of global warning and subsequent global whining, but walking through Viking museums in Finland and Norway, I saw 1,000-3,000 year old maps of the Arctic and Antarctic Oceans completely free of ice at both North and South Poles. Ice caps at both top and bottom of the planet fluctuate from massive to non-existent, relatively quickly, within tens of centuries. Zero polar ice caps allowed Vikings high speed strategic open waters, maritime dominance, and free reign to rape and pillage on all the world's oceans and continents. One other interesting fact about Viking maritime maps is recent ground penetrating satellite imaging has affirmed the size and shape of an ice-free South Pole, as nearly identical to old Norse cartography. The Roman Empire reached all the way to northern England and was repelled and pushed back by those pesky Vikings. Besides, at that particular time in history, the Romans had a massive illegal barbarian immigration problem and an uppity Jewish carpenter from Nazareth to take care of.
To examine another point of conservative contention, the riots at the capital on January 6th could've been a righteous protest, until stupidity took over and Confederate flags were waived and our tax dollars were grossly wasted on property damage. Stupid vandalism by 1-term president Donald Trump white minority supporters appeared quite similar to the Black Lives Matter riots that trashed your tax dollars.
One conservative talk radio host of distinction is Alex Jones. He's done a real good job of blending Republican issues with conspiracy theories that you cops may find a little schizophrenic. Okay, maybe a lot. If you see InfoWars bumper stickers declaring 911 and inside job, you've seen Alex Jones in action. Folks eat this shit up. Another silly assertion he's pushed is that all the mass shootings from Columbine to the present, are a product of the Federal Government inserting undercover actors and carrying out orders from some secret cabal of New World Order members. Mr. Jones is now in court, and hot water because he claimed all the grieving parents of the Sandy Hook Elementary massacre were bogus claimants and Hollywood actors paid for by secret departments of our Federal Government and Globalists hell-bent on taking away the 2nd amendment provisions of "a well regulated militia being necessary to the freedom of the people, and the right to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed."
My dumb ass idea to counter gun insanity and stupid mass shootings is to make mental illness a crime, drunk driving and domestic violence good cause to strip retards of their firearms, and freedom. The rights of child molesters is a sticky wicket in that most families embrace child rape and physical violence as forms of regular punishment and even expressions of affection. Go native eh?
Another issue you'll hear on conservative talk radio is that we shouldn't honor our national debt and stop paying taxes to the Treasury. The national debt has been growing since World War II and is a means to spend more than what we have in the banks. Sort of like a credit card. These debts are accumulated from our military and domestic spending, because instead of paying our bills like fiscally responsible motherfuckers, Americans vote for politicians that lower taxes, neglect galloping federal debt and praying we won't mind the bill that's still owed. The national debt is pert near $35 trillion dollars and divided amongst all us 350 million Americans, equals $100K for each of us. Every one of us.
In the last 2000 years, no nation has honored its national debt. The governments and currencies simply become bankrupt and worthless and the country dissolves. You've seen numerous nations fall to pieces. The Soviet Union is the biggest you've witnessed, but don't overlook the numerous African and South American nations that have become insolvent and cease functioning. At that point in a collapsing nation's history, dictators, drug lords and rich bullies are keen to move in, and take control. If I have to continue spelling out these historical patterns, I'm surrounded by real fucking retarded Alaskans.
To govern a diverse citizenry, requires Solomon's wisdom and judgement, not divisive bully pulpit. Blaming parties and poor races mirrors the blame for Jews wrecking Europe's economy during the Great Depression. Failed countries transition from a land of laws and systems of equal fair play, into countries of nonsense policies based on race, religion, province and clan. Throughout history collapsing failed nations are known for abandoning its non-religious secular values, votes and debates with old state boundaries and political divisions embracing extreme populist strongmen encouraging over the top, narrow minded church dogma, discrimination and xenophobia. Sounds vaguely familiar don't it. What America has inflicted on other countries to accelerate their failure, we're doing to ourselves today. Borrowing more than we can afford puts us at the mercy of our lenders and we've made a promise with our mouths we are forced to pay with our asses. Bend over nigger.
No-win political arguments aside, I like Alaska's existing constitution in its current form because it handles most issues that piss off majorities and minorities evenly and fairly. Where we find ourselves on these issues can shift greatly, and coincide with changes in the pendulum swings of popular sentiments from year to year, decade to decade and century to century. I don't care which way the wind blows, I just look for opportunities in the hot air blowing in any direction.
I was pleased to see the Alaska Supreme Court decide that each legislation will decide the Permanent Fund Dividend payouts based on the merits of debate, every session, and alongside the comparative importance of each budgetary item hashed out with majority votes prevailing. I know K-12 education is expensive, as are hospitals, highways, ferries, troopers, prisons and universities. The huge expense we allocate for Public Assistance, Medicaid and Power Cost Equalization will forever be argued and scrutinized every year at the capitol in Juneau, with or without our personal opinion really being a significant factor. Social and health services are in the same category as Death and Taxes, necessary and a real fucking pain in the ass. And wallet. When Alaska runs out of oil revenue, all of the above government functions will come straight out of the Permanent Fund, and our pockets. Taxes suck and taste really poopy. Death merely smells like dirt. And moldy dicks.
I don't particularly like the PFD due the powerful magnetic attraction for poor inbreeds that come to Alaska, draw food stamps, free medical, free housing, energy assistance and heating assistance AND a PFD check. Here in the Kenai Borough I'm surrounded by illiterate new-comers with southern drawls, dirty clothes, poor breeding and zero education baby making piggy families demanding carte-blanche handouts without a day's work.
When I worked the welfare desk in Kotzebue, I received a phone call about once a week from out of state eligibility techs asking about our generous benefits packages. I explained that 21 of the 28 Alaskan boroughs were exempt from Clinton's deficit reduction act that limits access to public assistance to 5 years. These gals sounded so black, so excited and couldn't wait to advise their clients. Pretty words like benefits and clients sure as shit hide poverty's brutal ugliness. And smell.
As we drain down Prudhoe Bay, I recommend taking away the PFD check as a minimum income tax payment with a steeply rising progressive income tax. I also recommend a state-wide sales tax of 4%, so that added to most 6% village, city and borough sales taxes, we'll be at an even 10% that's easy to compute and still under Anchorage's 18% sales tax on hotels and car rentals. The killer prices you see online or in newsprint for hotel and car rentals ain't what the bill on yer credit card will show. If you haven't traveled to Los Anchorage in a while, get a pre-moistened baby-wipe ready, yer gonna shit.
I like both income and sales taxes due to the vast yields we could harvest from the out of state teachers, military, oil and fish industry workers and the sale of their supplies. I know, all Food Stamps purchases, AHFC housing rent vouchers, Medicaid services and subsidized heating and energy bills are non-taxable (not subject to sales taxes), so we HAVE to kype their PFD checks. Don't bogart that joint and doobie slobber is real gross. Pay up nigger-lip.
I like property taxes because they're actually quite fair. If I live in a mansion, I pay out the ass. If I live in a trailer in Palmer with Jake Rogers, I don't pay dick. If we institute an estate tax and deduct half off our ugly children's inheritance, most of us won't have a lot to lose to Juneau when we die, but in cases like my slave owner ancestry, estate taxes are a pretty sweet way to skim the cream off the top. I'll use the Usibelli Family Mansion on Talbot Road north of Edmonds, Washington to illustrate different governmental raids: income, sales and property taxes.
Old farts all die, shit, piss, choke and croak, then the kids gotta sell the castle and pay Uncle Sam half, why not skim the cream early with an income tax on Usibelli's coal miner millions and pay it to Alaska before they retired to my farm and trailer court hometown of Edmonds, Washington? Coal extracted from Healy, Alaska has created a multimillionaire family. When I was a kid, I remember watching limousines pull up to the covered drive-thru entryway at the Usibelli Mansion and disgorge fine ass folks dressed to the nines, greeted with trays of champagne and live music. These coal millionaires moved south to Washington State and watched us dirty farm kids drink beer, smoke bud and build bonfires on the beaches along the railroad tracks on Puget Sound. Alaska ought to get a piece of that action by taxing the Usibelli millions as income tax, not fattening Washington State's treasury with property taxes.
Ya see, majority rules, yet the majority can be cruel. When we vote, the candidate with the majority wins our respective precinct seat, then when bills are voted upon in Juneau, the majority of elected officials approve them, sending them to the governor for signature or veto. If an even larger majority (super majority) can vote against the governor, the bill becomes law. Veto overrides are a nice way to keep governors (and presidents) in line and prevents any wanna-be kings from turning Alaska and America into a monarchy. A sad reality has arisen in Alaska and across America, white power is diminishing. When minorities coalesce into a majority, us whining white folks get the dirty end of the stick. The stick that's pulled from our butts.
Take a look at some elections where blacks, browns, Asians and homos voted in a block: us old white farts lost the election. Our candidates are relegated to history's trash heap. Both Trump and Biden will be one-term presidents like Carter and Bush Sr. and all four presidents have become annoying gadflies and silly anachronisms. In 2016, a large swath of Democrats I befriended hated Hillary Clinton so fucking bad, they joined the middle masses and voted for Trump. In the last election, so many Republicans I've interviewed after the election were so sick of Trump, they swung in with the middle masses and voted for Biden.
When Democrats pitched in with Republicans, we elected Ronald Reagan, hence the term "Reagan Democrats." Jimmy Carter was so awful that his removal from office in 1980 was a forgone conclusion. Nobody claimed voter fraud: we knew he was a goner. In the 2000 election a lot of Democrats swung across the aisle and voted for George W. Bush because they universally hated Al Gore as much as Bill Clinton. I fatigued of lunatic fringe news broadcasters claiming Gore won and the vote was rigged towards Bush.
History may not repeat itself, "but it sure rhymes" (Mark Twain). An echo you'll still hear today is evidenced seeing hillbillies and inbred redneck white trash emblazon their trucks with banners claiming "Trump Won" and "Fuck Joe Biden." This will die down soon enough and the 2024 election will allow new younger talent with western secular (non-religious) values to arise to the top of the primaries and hopefully on election day, to the fore. American politics was never intended to be a bipolar 2-party battle with old white dust farting geezers occupying the white house. If the next batch of candidates are our age and old as dirt, we're fucked.
White Power has diminished over the last 50 years and this country has gone the way of the dirt worshipers and mud-heathens leaving us righteous white trash, ignorant Christians and dubiously true patriots the minority. The majority is now Godless dykes, lesbians, faggots, niggers, chinks, spics and fucking Indians. Instead of sending wetbacks back to Mexico, niggers back to fucking Africa and Indians back to China, all us good, honest, hard working white folks ought to head back to Europe and get busy eating fine white pussy. Oops, sorry. After you bury yer wives. Got mud?
If Alaska does hold a constitutional convention, we'll see attacks on our 2nd amendment rights, and some I agree with. I think mental retards shant own guns, I also don't want psychotics fuckheads owning guns. Adding to this list, I believe convicted felons (like Chip Hailstone), drunk drivers, domestic wife/child beaters and sexual predators should be banned from owning firearms. I know, that would force Lorin Downing, John Erlich and Dean Westlake to forfeit all their firearms, but I'm cool with that. Those girl punching pussies are such egregious child and wife rights violators, we ought not let them add firearms to their small penis bully tool belts. In the VPSO training program it was lectured that a drunk driver will drive plastered 86 times before he's arrested for DUI. A wife-beater will punch the shit out of his wife and children 46 times before an arrest will be made.
If you ask Rachel Downing, Kathy Ward or Gladys Kagoona's daughter Toni, they'll all read you the riot act how many times these little neutered buttfuckers (Downing and Westlake) beat the crap out them, and raped them and their children. Rachel Downing lit my fucking fuse when she told me and bun how Lorin beat her and her daughters till they needed diapers and tampons. Got blood? Dean Westlake is a real prize in that he was a cop most of his life, a rapist and a wife beater. His son Talon will testify all day long from his jail cell how Westlake came home drunk from work at KPD and fucked both him and Autumn, then beat hell outa Lenora, just to keep her jaw broken and quiet.
I still have some issues with Kim Nay beating the shit outa that young man at the gunpoint, just for fucking his wife. Vernetta is a totally fine babe, yet strayed, a lot. Trooper Nay was one of my best friends and supervisors, but his health was 40 years accelerated and Vernetta was so prime, vivacious and snack-worthy. Old man Nay just needed a couple Viagra to keep his stunning wife tuned up and glowing. Okay, maybe a couple thousand tabs of Viagra, Cialis and Enzyte male enhancements. What bothers me is that she never hit on me. I've been seduced by lots of cops' wives, yet only sacked one of 'em. Okay, maybe two.
John Erlich was a major alcoholic and wife beater, and his son and wife will vouch fer that action. In the world of 2nd amendment gun nut trash I inhabit, I assert that "a well regulated militia" means our local governments were intended to have all of our contact info such as name, address, phone numbers and a detailed list of resources we have on hand and in stock, in case militia members are needed and gun owners are called up for duty. Sadly, this list shouldn't include a lot of our friends and coworkers. KPD hired a lot of dysfunctional alcoholics, wife beaters, child molesters and rapists. Westlake impregnated a 12 year old and Augie Nelson Jr. got that 15 year old girl wasted drunk, then fucked her. Billy Byrd was a full blown drunk, and missed as much work as Edith Melton. At least Edith didn't get her stubby little fingers on firearms.
True patriots are sober and keep their dicks out of little boys and girls. If you armed motherfuckers followed the law to the letter, "the right to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed." Obviously this excludes drunk drivers, wife beaters, child rapists and mental retard psychos, like most of KPD. We suck. Oh, and I admit, I've stolen shitloads of firearms over the last 40 years, bought and sold stolen firearms, and traded plethora illegal drugs and alcohol for firearms. Needless to say, in view of my blatant honesty, guns shouldn't be in the hands of dirty dealing guys like me. Criminals habitually break the law. I can't help it, it's in my DNA. It's my nature.
The right to privacy is written in our constitution, but if dip wads and nut jobs post silly threats on their anti-social media accounts, red flag them and seize their guns. If some dildo rants about killing elected officials or good solid citizens of any color on his Facefuck, Twigger or What's Upp my butt web page, send AST to grab all their pipe bombs, sharp knives and firearms. They can play with cap guns and toy penises. And wear KPD police uniforms.
I've researched upcoming topics that will be added to the constitutional convention and you're gonna shit. Social Justice is a notion that we owe pallets of cubic dollars to various groups of loser races for wrongs committed by my ancestors. Fuck 'em. If the roles were reversed, they'd be slaving our Rosie smelling white asses all day and night and porking our kids, eventually browning America into poverty. Oops, I guess that's already happening.
The 1940 census has European descendants as the majority voters, but over the last 80 years, the rainbow of colored folks, combined with LBGT-Q-CM-DF motherfuckers, have grown to become the new majority. We are outnumbered. Oh, CM stands for child molesters and DF stands for dog fuckers. I couldn't find a demograph to place them, so I included them with butt-nibblers, butt-surfers, and knob chewing fecal freaks. With our state and federal constitution guaranteeing everybody the right to vote, including lesbians and men who spooge manholes, "the future's uncertain and end is always near" (Doors).
When I use the term "western civilization", I'm implying religious and racial tolerance, democratic debate and majority votes that are the economic and governmental machines that feed and clothe the remaining 6 billion humans pissing and shitting all over God's creation. For a brief period, America was a pretty good concept of tolerating and welcoming immigrants from all over the world, so far as becoming the most diverse country on the planet. All races of good, educated and skilled human fucking beings are represented in America and have enriched our Dow 30, NASDAQ 20, Russell 2000 and S&P 500 companies with unbeatable talent. As of these last centuries, we've ruled the air, land and sea. We also kick ass in the heavens above, and solar system.
Similar to Dominion Voter Machine Hacks and the poisonous COVD vaccines, right wing conspiracy nut-tards claim the Apollo Moon flights and moon landings were faked. I'll go one step further and stupidly claim they were actually designed and piloted by Afro and Mex mud-geniuses and Einstein was really from Africa. Sure, do you smell bullshit? Make me puke. The sheer talent that used to fight their way to America makes me beam with pride. We've now flooded our country with illiterate and ignorant masses, leaving our betters vastly outnumbered. I may have a decent education, but I'm not even in the ballpark, nor cheap seats of today's innovators. Sad to say, the future won't be radically changed by the likes of me. I aren't dumb, well maybe a little. I found my footing in Alaska, land of free, home of the blind.
Racial Equity is a weird claim that only includes niggers and natives. These campaigns are bogus because not one advocate will support amendments nor adjustments for the suffering the Irish and Chinese experienced as slaves building the Erie Canal and the railroads. Racial Equity excludes Jewish prison labor under the Third Reich nor Slavs worked to death throughout the Soviet Union. I suspect it's because they "ain't black enough" (President Joe Bidusky).
A common theme taught in basic economics is that even if we spread the world's wealth evenly, sharing with even the most retarded, illiterate, religious fanatics like Gayle Ralston, within 10 years the economy will return to what we enjoy today. Yes, I case hard on our coworkers. But why should we insult everybody else and not our own? Cops are grunts. Emergency workers and responders we may be, but there ain't an engineering degree or physicist among us. I got hired in the public safety sector because I'm a poor, stupid and smelly southerner. I'm the dumbest guy I know. Plus I got nice tooth.
Gender and Transgender Rights are a thorny issue to warp Alaska's Constitution and I'm not real sure how the wording would read. How do we add non-binary breeding rights to bully dykes that demand our dicks surgically attached under their tattooed titties, hairy bellies, atop their tooth lined vagina lips and loose nigger-lipped rectums? Put yer money maker to work and polish up what God gave ye, but "never a beggar nor borrower be," including other peoples' pussies and penises. After we die and deviant doctors attempt to attach our dicks to vicious dyke broads and biker bitches, I forecast organ rejection and our dicks will separate from fat tranny girls and leap into their honey buckets of poop or into the dark hole of their outhouse and join the bones of 3 dead niggers. To avoid AIDS it's best not to put it in boys, but I'd cry thinking Mr. Wobbly leaping to his death and dissolving in a poop bucket, cesspool, cistern or septic tank. Sad day indeed. Quit wretching, I just chuked up into the back of my mouth writing this shit.
Gay and Lesbian Rights are difficult to analyze and the recipe for mixing mature sperm with baby poop shouldn't be detailed in Alaska's new modern Constitution. This sector of homosexual humanity only comprises of 1-2% of the world's population. We have famous faggots in the entertainment industry and ugly lesbians that ain't finger licking good like KFC. I still remember when my younger brother told me Elton John was a poof and I laughed when Michael Jackson was busted for porking little white boys in the ass. Michael had to sell most of the library of music rights he'd purchased to settle multi-million dollar child sodomy claims, California court costs, penalties and massive legal fees. Maybe Jews like to pork their little boys. Barbara Streisand was angry that California prosecuted Michael Jackson for child sodomy, so she posted a Twitter statement declaring "It obviously didn't kill them. And probably thrilled them." Just think, Robert Redford French-kissed this frog-nosed imbecile on-camera and tongued her shitter off-stage.
Michael Jackson will go down in history as the nappy headed faggot that shopped at discount garment stores for little boys' pants: half off. The little tar baby was born a really cute black kid, yet died a really ugly white woman. Senator Trent Lott claimed "all niggers were faggots and all faggots were niggers", keeping the Jackson family in mind, I'd be hard pressed to disagree.
Gay men are so weird. When Barry Manilow came out of the closet, I got mad. Now I know where all my brooms disappeared to. Liberace was another talented piano player like Elton and Barry, and SO gay. It must come as a result of handling so much ivory. Wait, wasn't the Kotzebue Jail packed full of fudge packer ivory carvers? Hmmm. "Adii, Adunci put his cookoo in my unnuk!" (Annie Cyr 1994). Must be the ivory. Or shoving pacifier nucks up their rump. I'll have to channel bun's brother bobby or Annie Henry to inquire what Clifford Davis was thinking when he rear-mounted an old drunk native woman, maybe they'll know. Hell, with those ass-sucking anal credentials, give him a job working for John Ward, Mark Caruthers and Paul Iyatungak at the Kotzebue Jail. Or I could ask Chuck Criss. After they buried him, all the other skeletal NANA graveyard inhabitants ran like hell and burrowed under the Catholic Church in Kotzebue to join the mass grave party with your ancestors.
Okay, that reference is too vague and innocuous to leave unexplained. When the Catholic Church saw thousands of above ground native burials all over Canada and Alaska, they shit. So, they disassembled the framed stands and busted up the little graveyard dog houses, loaded up yer entire native ancestry and buried them in giant pits. Proper Christian burial: have bucket loader, just need a couple thousand Inuit corpses. On the city and village maps, the water and sewer engineers were forced to route their work around these mass graves, but some bones still get tractored up (Dermot Cole, Fairbanks Daily News Moron). NW Arctic, NSB and Camp-U-piaq are the perfect settings for Poltergeist appearances and haunted buildings, when you build upon Indian burial grounds.
Looking back, it appears that Inupiaq elders prefer their remains be left up on stilts, in small memorial lodges, or simply put out on the ice (Howard Rock 1969). Imagine the massive piles of garbage and crow bait elder bodies all over Kotzebue Sound's ice covering if we continued century's old habits of dumping corpses, trash, dead babies and unnuk buckets out on the ice in front of town. Break-up would be a real breath of fresh air, giant floating trash barge and eyesore conveyor belt. Wave bye-bye to grandma and yer grand babies and practice target shooting last-minute scavengers with yer rifle.
Grandma Magdelene told me a sad fact about infant mortality prior to new medicine, hospitals and human rights. Babies died so frequently, and in such huge piles, Eskimos withheld naming infants until after surviving to their 5th birthday. Shit-poor prenatal and postnatal care for Eskimo babies kept the garbage piles on the ice just off Front Street gigantic and full of morbid treasure. If you see any creepy white motherfuckers out their picking the bones and teeth fer gold and artifacts. Shoot 'em and leave 'em where they fall. Seafood and underwater nutrition is color blind: the more the better.
Hell, stomping, battering and shooting multicolored folks is a family tradition for me. I'd happily place bets on your accuracy just to see the Burnors, Meltons, Geffees, Onaliks, and Allens blasted to shit if you catch them while they "pukkuk fer treasures." When I recall my memories of local natives and whites out at the dump picking fer goodies, they'd be too proud to be seen out on the ice along Front street in front of God and everybody. Picking them off from sniper hides inside the old AC Marina and adding to the mountains of trash, feeding more ravens, seagulls, varmints and schools of fish sounds kind of cool. Fuck me in the goat ass, I've changed lot, right in front of you assholes. After almost 4 decades in rural Alaska, I doubt I'll ever be the same.
I believe the changes ain't all bad though. Look at what has Alaska given me.
Alaska hired me to process fish guts and crab slime in Dutch, Naknek and Cold Bay, mop puke in jails on the Seward and Baldwin peninsula, truck garbage to city dumps in NW Arctic and North Slope. I got strong hauling freight from airports to the stores (AC, Cape Smyth, Everts and Frontier), giving me legitimate cover to perform narc jobs for the cops. I work above board as an expediter, laborer and carpenter, following orders from you armed badgers.
I took no bread from the tables of others, nor no jobs or scholarships did I take from other 907 negroes. You boys know my tricks: while working clerical, freight and janitorial jobs, I joined you coppers and undertook narc jobs as side gigs. I even worked narc jobs at school following Trooper Nay's boy on a date rape drug roundup at UAF and bagged a bootlegging professor flying booze over the Brooks Range.
I need to give credit to the villages and cities that built Rec Centers for me to throw weights around, get strong, sauna my shit and interrogate elders that provide fertile manure for these postings. I'm real old now, built taller and stronger than the punks wheezing the weight machines next to me, but now I get to retell horrible stories of working with you cops and long dead native corpses. Get this. Some old white broads argue and dispute the veracity of my tales, then look over at bun. She'll nod and affirm the accuracy of my horrible puke-worthy stories working under all ye soon-to-be bone yard tenants. Our sufferings become pleasures in retelling.
I'm not originally from Alaska, but Alaska's Constitution loves me anyway. I was offered public sector jobs that provided me with excellent Blue Cross medical, dental and vision insurance and a retirement/healthcare package (PERS Tier I) that pumps mucho dollars into local stores, gas stations and native clinics statewide. Just think of the money Alaska has paid in my 40 years of medical treatments at the Alaska Native Medical Centers and hospital systems. Fuck, we're talking Manillaq, Samuel Simmonds, Norton Sound, Denaina Vagina and the Galena Herpes Clinic. Mind you, I ain't IHS welfare, but I've been treated for dog bites, detached retina, diabetic keto-acidosis, inflamed facial injuries, colonoscopy exams, X-rays and MRI's for broken vertebra and teeth, plus eye exams up the fucking ass looking for leakers and seepers. I've pumped so many blood and urine draws I could paint myself red and yellow, and all via native hospitals: paid for by my employers and Alaska's Public Retirement System. Beat that.
Alaska's Constitution has provided us with quite a phenomenal statewide college campus system. I'd say a few billion bucks have been spent on this behemoth and I really enjoyed my time there. I brag of my degrees paid for by Alaska. But keep in mind, my scholarships didn't come from monies intended solely for my native brethren. The financial contributions were entirely merit based and on-campus employment: tutoring at Rural Student Services, computer lab and travel overseas promoting international exchange. No educational scholarship subsidies were harvested from Alaska Native Corporations. All Alaska and Uncle Sam. I'm special. My welfare and public dole came in the form of scholarship, tuition waivers, hourly pay, travel and a brand new car.
Alaska's Constitution works hand in glove with our blessed Native Claims Act and through regional and local native corporations, I was given work and paid rents. KIC and NANA hired me for bit work on the Kikik Spit doing clerical, inventory and heavy grunt work moving Eskimo Building furniture and Pillituq boats, motors, sno-gos, oils and replacement parts.
The opportunities that paid the richest was brokering the sale of the Bush Pilot Bar and Grill and all the coffee and snack concessions throughout the Fairbanks International Airport for Professor David Porter. The buyer was the NANA Regional Corporation and the payout was a fixed 5% commission on $1.4 million giving me $70,000 for a quarter year's work.
Pimping my wife's native membership in the Point Hope Tikigaq clan by way of her father, uncles and aunts, I was able to negotiate with ASRC a handsome pair of rents for our duplex in Barrow: $4K a month for years. These rents and payouts allowed me and bun to travel 907 and visit Clam Gulch, Nome, Anchorage and Soldotna, eventually giving us a chance to see Patrick Octuck, Phillip Philimonoff and dozens of Eskimos before they put on sunglasses, ditched their crutches and heavy luggage and catch their flights out of rural Alaska, to destinations far beyond Hubble's Telescopic reach.
I haven't been completely honest with y'all about my illegal hunting. As described before, bun's uncle was Edward Itta, North Slope Mayor and captain of the family whaling crew. He'd call over when they got a strike and needed help pulling the whale up on the ice shelf or shoot polar bears wandering near the whale butcher site. The whaling captain kept all the polar bears I shot. Hell, dumb ass white guys are good for some things, but I usually stepped aside and let old ladies and kids do most of cutting and stacking. The community snow machined out there in herds to cut and haul away millions of tons of bloody globs. My share of bloody globs I'd trim up and send back to Kotzebue, Noatak and Selawik senior centers and native elder councils free of freight charges via Solveig Naylor and Alice Hopson at Cape Smythe. Those two angels kept me to a 2,000 pound limit, every year. Gratis.
I'd help with Arnie Brower Crew (ABC Whalers) and also Lloyd Peter and Mary Ann Simmonds' crew (Patkotak Whalers). My front yard was stacked with endangered whale meat, blubber and muktuk allowing me to ship Albert Monroe a shit pile at the behest of James Mason at the Arctic Sounder. Hence the origins of my phrase "pink and black whale candy" I was quoted in the ensuing article. Fuck dudes, I sent major tonnage to Elmer Goodwin at the NW Arctic School District and Bella Woods: just cuz bun suggested it. I don't fucking eat the shit. Writing this, my wrist sure fucking hurts. So does my back. Funny, me and bun lived in Barrow 15 years, much longer than I lived way south in Kotzebue.
My neighbor often phoned over and told me that he was gonna borrow an extra snow machine and wanted to take me polar bear hunting, if I paid him for gas, liquor and green bud. His name was Gerald Nayakik, but his nickname was Alaq, and after our hunts, he'd snag a couple jugs off of me. We bagged quite a few polar bears up the beach near the whale gut and bone dump, north of Browerville across from NARL (Naval Arctic Research Laboratory), the old military base that now houses the Ilisagvik College. Easy shooting and after hauling them back home on freight sleds, bun would ship the scraped hides to Shishmaref Tannery. I donated one hide to Rural Student Services at UAF, sold one to Professor Porter, sold one to an old BIA schoolmate of bun's that lived in Browerville and the other we sold to Ron Brower when he ran the Heritage Center.
You coppers are well aware of these exploits, but thinking of Alaska's Constitution, Alaska Eskimo Whaling Commission and Native Rights, Land and Sea Mammal Harvest Legislation and local option liquor laws, its no surprise I got myself in trouble tip-toeing around all these disparate, racist and regionally specific regulations. I used bun as my cover in poaching polar bear, I used elder native kivgik, appuati and nulukatuk (traditional foods feasts) in Noatak, Selawik, Shungnak and even Kotzebue as a shield to butcher and stockpile tons of whale every year.
To supplement my crimes and bribes, and flying so much for Statewide Drug Enforcement I smuggled a shitload of LSD, liquor and marijuana to grease the skids on my illegal whale and polar bear harvests. I sent lots of contraband statewide with a clever insert of illegal drugs in frozen cultural foods other cultures would be terrified to eat and mortified how brutal traditional hunting methods were. Fuck it. Butchering goats, ducks, chickens, rabbits, caribou, moose, a million tons of salmon and crab (and three dead niggers) was good training for this retarded and vicious farm boy in cutting up big game like black whales and white bears.
Now, you explain to me how many rule books I've rolled up and smoked. Civil rights, firearms regulations, drug policy, local option alcohol initiatives, and Fish and Game rules. Fuck me. And we berate serial killers like the Butcher-Baker, Ted Bundy and that Ridgeway creep (Green River Killer) fer merely killing a couple hunnert human beings. Re-writing a new constitution or revising a new edition of Hoyle's Book of Rules won't insure Alaskans read it, understand it, nor follow it. I sure didn't and now you see an old man suffering compound guilt, decomposing his memoirs in an old folks' home.
Funny. Most days I feel pretty good about myself. It's only late at night when I awake from nightmares, that I get sick worrying, remembering and dwelling on the shit we done. I try not to think about the boys that died along the way, but their parents weigh heavy on me. Overdoses are self-explanatory, as are suicides.
Many years ago and latitudes south, I was awoken to an afro-dude climbing in my bedroom window, so I grabbed a baseball bat and gave him my best line drive swing: he just fell inside and on the floor dead. Dale Campbell wrestled and choked out his partner coming in the backdoor and Dennis simply shot black criminal #3 kicking in the front door. Okay, now what. I fucking wasn't gonna call the cops or ambulances, these niggers were just dead. Dennis and Dale were pretty upset at the scenario we faced, so we heatedly argued and decided the smartest plan would be to get rid of them.
Sure. We all think like a Hollywood movie, but ye can't leave dead robbers of the African persuasion lying around. Besides, all the dogs were spooked and trembling outside. Dennis suggested we load these floppy headed, loose necked dead niggers in the trunk of their own car and ditch the car. Dale suggested we dump them someplace, then ditch their car. My suggestion was dumber. I figured a 30 minute drive north to my grandparents wooded property up at 7-lakes near Marysville would be better staging area to plan the disposal of approximately 500 pounds of human bodies. We plopped the dudes in the trunk and with Dennis and Dale following me, we drove up north and after closing the gate, we pulled them out and dumped them in the bottom of the garbage fire pit. The sun was coming up, so Dennis ran down to the local fish and tackle store and grabbed food and couple cases of beer. This was gonna be a long day.
All three of us did some hefty chugs out of a bag of blow, smoked some serious crystal bud and started in on the beer. Our idea was originally to just bury these fuckers, but digging a whole fer 3 gang-bangers is nearly impossible, and since we already had a big fire pit filled with garbage, what the fuck. All three of us marched all over the 5-acre property dragging downed trees, branches and old logs to the fire pit and covered the 3 black musketeers, douched them with half the gasoline, stepped back and started burning. The remaining half of gasoline we originally intended for torching their Buick nigger-rig. But my thoughts were that a burnt out car looked kind of fishy. Genius ain't I? So we agreed that leaving that big old clunker parked somewhere was like hiding shit in plain sight.
We cut and dragged branches, dead trees and punk logs to the fire pit all fucking day and kept our funeral pyre hot a shit until dark the next evening. We're talking nuclear hot enough to melt mountains of garbage including beer bottles and cans and leaving us three white boys with red faces smeared with soot like crazy Indians on the war path.
I scavenged all the old gallons of paint and used motor oil my grandpa had stacked in his tool shed. I also gathered a half dozen old tires rotting away in the ditch, behind the tool shed and a couple soggy worn tires dumped in the woods we were dragging branches and stumps from. As we tossed branches and logs on the fire, we judiciously tossed in a tire or can of paint or oil, just to get our garbage fire pit super hot and forcing us to stand back to avoid the intense heat. We also downed refreshments. The bags of blow and green bud kept us working all damn day and the beer delicious and cold.
I ran the garden hose all over the trunk of their old Electra 225, then drove down the highway a short stretch to a cool look-out rest area, parked their car, tossed the keys off the bluff and hitched a ride back to my grandparents property with Dennis. That evening, after a whole day of burning and clearing brush and burning garbage, tires, paints and used motor oil, we crashed in the trailer and waited for the fire pit to burn down and see if we completed our mission.
We slept pretty well considering we were punk kids: scared, nervous and worried sick. The fire pit was cooled down enough to pull log ends out and sort out our ash pile. Yup, the remnants were just ash, burnt rusty metal, melted glass and a nightmare of ribs, legs and 3 fucking skulls. No soft tissue remained, the bones were completely burnt and crumbled when I stomped on them, so everything was easy to shovel into a wheelbarrow, but nowhere to dump all this ash, garbage and scary Halloween bones.
Dennis was the smartest and instead of digging another hole for our wheelbarrows of burnt trash, he suggested we simply drag the outhouse aside and dump everything down inside. The outhouse wouldn't budge without the help of a hefty rope and my old 66 Dodge Dart, but the hole was nasty, deep and sufficient to dump about 3 or 4 heaping wheelbarrows of burnt garbage and ash down inside.
After I raked out the entire fire pit for all the ashes, every bit of skeletal evidence, we hauled a couple tons of burnt ashes and metal shit, crushed skulls and bones and dumped them down in the shit. Then we scattered shovels of fresh dirt over the ashes and burnt metal, then dumped a couple bags of grandpa's garden steer manure and even more bags of his outhouse lime powder all over fucking everything. We hooked the old Dodge Dart up on the other side of the outhouse and pulled the blasted heavy motherfucker back over the shit hole.
I've since visited and partied at grandpa's 7-lakes property and felt real leary about that outhouse. Grass grew up all around it, my buddies and pals pissed a hunnert gallons of beer foam and shit layers of loose beer stools, eventually creating a nasty and repulsive ash, bones and burnt garbage camouflage. Their old Buick Electra 225 was likely towed and impounded and I've never seen another ghetto-mod nigger-rig like it since.
I've yet to even tell my best friends the guns I kyped off the dead niggers were sold into the druggy white crime network of Mountlake Terrace, Washington. Of course, after I oiled them and wiped 'em down so they look real perty. My grandparents' property has been sold and developed years ago and I believe I can confess my sins to a bunch of retired cops. I'm either quite clever, or as retarded as I fear.
See? After living on farms and drug houses in Washington, burning dead gang-bangers, butchering land and sea mammals in Alaska, growing old and dying is always easier when I put it all in perspective. After telling this tale to the Commander in 1996, Dave Craig understood, then said, "If you acted in self-defense and honestly believe you had no other choice, I wouldn't worry about it Karl."
David lectured to me that his church isn't in the practice of granting forgiveness, nor penance or contrition, and that we all are on our own with our relation with whatever creator you put faith in. Goddamned smart-ass Mormons. I wasn't fishing fer approval, but we all know it's good to get it whenever possible. "Hey Mr. X, the next time I ask you what's on yer mind, I'll know better and keep my mouth shut." Thanks a lot Dave.
"We'll just call these experiences training for duties yet to come in the service of our community." He offered the lame explanation that these accumulated nightmares are merely character building experiences. Old man Craig further offered a bit of shitty trivia about PTSD and its long-term effects on the function of the brain, our endocrine system and stress responses us fuckheads display for the remainder of our shitty existence here in rural Alaska. Like beaten children and battered women we carry to the ER, hand over to the drunk old bitch at DFYS or the Shelter at the FR Ferguson Building, our shadow is our only companion.
David thought for a moment, then explained that we have reasons for our industrial drug consumption and thirst for alcohol that's so great, it casts its own shadow. If not for his strict adherence to his church's dietary and health guidelines, he'd likely swim laps in Jameson's Irish Whiskey and be a complete soak like his parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents. Childhood alcoholic trauma is the reason David Craig was raised in an orphanage and can't remember what his parents and gramps even looked like. It's also the reason he ended up in Kotzebue working with you lot.
We'll all be fine, maybe, but the recipients of your rescues, emergency trauma services and medical transports are all in the same boat, alone, misunderstood, and unloved. Old man David Craig has passed away, as most of our coworkers. At least I got you guys.
In summation, I just gotta follow the doctors' orders, lift weights one hour a day, document my waking blood pressure and fasting blood sugar every morning, abstain from all alcohol and drugs and I'll stay out of the ER and ICU. Adii, listening to conservative talk radio will drive me to drink. So will listening to the nurse practitioners at Denaina Vagina Health Center. Adding to my monastic healthy boring fucking life, I gotta follow the rules and regulations that apply to each reservation, race, village, borough, and hunting season. And I'll stay out of jail.
Sure. I can't find David Craig anywhere around here at the rest home, but I might have some Irish Whiskey around.
Drink anyone?
Karl.
posted by Alaska: Local And State News. at 11:30 AM
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