Big, Squeaky Clown Shoes
Come, let us peek at progressive academia:
Lower those eyebrows, you cynical bigots.
Stop it at once.
See, multiple art degrees. And moon sessions. And – and – “intuitive energy work.” Why, she’s the fourth emergency service.
Ms Schenandoah, it turns out, is a Faithkeeper of the Wolf Clan, and skilled in ways of healing “negative energy,” with tuning forks and smudging – that’s burning tobacco and sage, obviously:
Apparently, it’s also a tool for enhancing self-awareness.
Though such bleeding-edge healthcare works best in conjunction with other indigenous technologies:
That way, you can purge any unhappy “presence” or “lingering energy.”
Armed with such arcane skills, Ms Schenandoah – whose job description is curiously vague – provides “a safe space where Indigenous students can cope with stress and trauma.” Yes, the trauma of attending one of the more expensive and statusful colleges in America, with its annual fees of $70,000, its 920 acres of rolling lawns, its 20 tennis courts, and a capacious ice-skating pavilion.
However, the university cautions that, while undoubtedly potent, sage-burning and tuning forks may not be the answer to every ill:
Update, via the comments:
A Campus & Community news bulletin – in which the word “Indigenous” is used many, many times – tells us that Ms Schenandoah will be helping students “bring forth their own potential” via “a wide range of healing modalities,” including the aforementioned tuning forks. Those touched by Ms Schenandoah’s uncanny powers will learn that the forest is “a relative, not a resource,” and that birds “sing in the morning because they’re happy.”
Quality stuff.
Previously at the intersection of wokeness and woo.
Well, it’s right up there with palm-reading, ectoplasm, and polarity therapy. And yet I very much get the impression that onlookers are expected to find it charming, or terribly authentic, or to adopt a posture of hushed reverence.
Big ask, really.
I like her.
She’s an enormously clever and successful con artist,
It is immoral to let suckers keep their money.
Western Civ voters are suckers who deserve to lose a lot of money.
a posture of hushed reverence
also called genuflecting to our moral superiors
… the healer said. “We also thank water during our ceremony and send good thoughts and energy to the creator through tobacco burning.”
I thought tobacco burning was evil. And deadly. I guess it’s ok when They do it, They being anyone sufficiently brown and magical.
Kids smoke because it gives them a buzz.
Indians claim it’s because it’s deeply spiritual.
Guess who I think has a better grasp of reality?
Leftists aren’t suitable for any civilisation – they’re parasites.
It was the germs whitey was carrying that did the heavy lifting.
So that’s where that missing payment went to.
Sage: this is a general term often used for species of artemisia which is abundant across the entire US West
Ah, I see “sage” in this context refers to “white sage” or salvia albinia. Good catch, I stand corrected.
I thought tobacco burning was evil. And deadly. I guess it’s ok when They do it
Well, yes. Clearly. Tobacco is an important part of the ancient religions of the native tribes, holding a deeply significant and spiritual significance. Which is why you can buy full-sized Hefty bags of smokes at the local reserve for $50.
What?
Well, it’s right up there with palm-reading, ectoplasm, and polarity therapy
Speaking of which, this was released last October and is vastly superior to the execrable Ghostbusters: Afterlife in just about every way. Unfortunately with the film generating a resounding “meh” it’s unlikely the game will get much in the way of further support.
“like travelling through the clouds.”
A lost Jim Stafford lyric?
It was the germs whitey was carrying that did the heavy lifting.
So much for the wondrous mystical magical power of superior indigenous ways of knowing and healing, then.
So much for the wondrous mystical magical power of superior indigenous ways of knowing and healing, then.
I don’t know about that. First Nations population in Canada in the 16th Century was 200,000 in the 2016 census it was 1.67 million. So much for the genocide our Prime MInister claims was committed.
Well, in fairness to Justin whenever the Dauphin speaks, you can be sure of one (or more) of two things:
He doesn’t understand itHe doesn’t believe itGiven this, it’s hard to hold him to account for the gibberish that happens when his lips move. Of course, that’s exactly what he and his handlers are counting on
I guess it’s ok when They do it.
To be precise. Observe the tying of the sacred logical pretzel here:
https://tobaccowise.cancercareontario.ca/en/first-nations
(Thanks due to Colby Cosh of the Pest, who noticed this as far back as December 2006.)
The other thing I noticed, me bein’ me, was that the Cancer Care Ontario page carefully listed the extant First Nations, but didn’t namecheck the Wendat, Ongiara, and Tionontati (the last being sometimes denoted the “Tobacco” nation) as first inhabitants in Ontario. That might be because they’re not around, although some Wendat (or “Wyandot”) still live in the USA.
Interested readers are invited to do their own research on the disappearance. It Googles pretty smoothly. The Wenro and Erie met a similar end south of the lower lakes. No names, no pack drill.
(Apologies to all you furrin objects for the seventeenth-century Southern Ontario inside baseball, but Steve and Daniel may like it.)
hearty dog fart
Played by Richard Vernon in the TV series, I believe?
How long until it’s revealed that her name is really Stella Mankewitz from Shaker Heights, OH?
And via those healing modalities, students will learn that the forest is “a relative, not a resource,” and that birds “sing in the morning because they’re happy.”
I’ll stick with pyramid power, thank you very much.
Hey, don’t laugh. This is quality stuff.
but Steve and Daniel may like it
The county I used to live in was named after Joseph Brant, a native chief who is lauded as the founder of the region and a terror of the American rebels during the American War of Independence.
The people at the tourist bureau reeeeeally don’t like it when you ask them about the forty black slaves he brought with him to the area after the war.
For some reason, this came to mind:
And then, of course, there’s this:
Ms Schenandoah may be a minor grifter milking the pretentious, but the deference to such things isn’t always harmless.
Fun times.
A wide range of healing modalities,
Please plan your need to find your center (whatever the hell that means) accordingly.
Unpossible, I have been told all the alleged indigenous lived in perfect harmony among themselves and nature.
Wrong Syracuse.
Also invented peanut butter and the light bulb, I am told.
I guess asking someone with “several associate degrees” who works at a university to look something up is a bit much to ask what with the grueling two and a half day work week and all.
My kind of smudging.
The whole thing reeks of quality.
Given that the
red indiansNative Americans had a stone age culture whose “technology” mostly comprised sticks and the carcasses of dead animals – from what were they manufacturing their traditional indigenous tuning forks?…from what were they manufacturing their traditional indigenous tuning forks?
Like arrowheads, flint, but to be fair the lapping skill it takes to make one is astounding.
Every tribe had one person with perfect pitch called a “lapuwale”, which is a French word for “piano tuner”.
This new learning amazes me, Sir Muldoon.
If this is Dr. Who, something is terribly wrong.
In any civilised society, locals with baseball bats would emerge to educate the grebo on the wisdom of rifling through postboxes.
And yet liberals demand that not even the police use violence to subdue violent criminals.
And yet many of our betters seem to believe that excusing antisocial degeneracy, and expecting others to meekly put up with it, is somehow synonymous with civilisation. A yardstick of progress.
And so, for instance, we’re told that objecting to the regular sight of people being robbed, or to being robbed oneself, is merely “anti-poverty bias,” and that a dislike of having one’s home invaded by sociopathic predators “comes from a place of privilege,” and is therefore to be sneered at, or minimised as somehow trivial or invalid. Or unsophisticated.
In a saner world, the excuse-makers would be put out to sea on a raft, accompanied by the creatures whose behaviour they claim to find so understandable, and so easy to forgive.
This new learning amazes me…
One half of the clan comes from somewhere near Lake Lagoda, which is in Russia, and the “indigenous” of North America came from Siberia, also in Russia, so I have indigenous adjacent ways of knowing.
OTOH, on the Hibernian side, a little know fact is that “muldoon” is an Algonquin word for “potato eater”.
And yet many of our betters seem to believe that excusing antisocial degeneracy, and expecting others to meekly put up with it, is somehow synonymous with civilisation.
Related, “Sex education has been suspended in Isle of Man schools after a drag queen allegedly told 11-year-olds that there are 73 genders.”
TBF, an 11 year old hasn’t a drag queen’s lived experience or ways of knowing.
These same bloody jackasses will make you pay a higher price for objecting to the criminal scum than the criminal scum do. And they do it from their place of much higher privilege. Another thing they expect you not to notice.
As I tell my wife, the most frustrating thing is that the answers to ever so many of our current world’s problems are right there in front of our faces.
“from what were they manufacturing their traditional indigenous tuning forks?”
We used the same wood that supplied our dowsing rods. Which, BTW, are a fork. So there, wytepersen!
Facts are such pesky things.
In my early teenage years I started reading the works of Carlos Castenada.
I didn’t make it beyond book 2 (or maybe 3) since even at that tender age the attractions of spreading peyote extract on your bollocks then jumping off a cliff expecting to fly are transient.
Just for once wiki appear to nail it:-
“Castaneda’s books are classified as non-fiction by their publisher, although there is consensus among critics that they are largely, if not completely, fictional”.
Buy stock in Orville Redenbacher.
Advantage to the 11 year old.
Not long after the printing press came out, someone published the first book on manners. It suggested that having sex and pooping on the street were less than optimal. 500 years ago and we have come full circle.
Advice to anyone too drunk to make it to a bathroom: mess up your hair and shout random words–they can’t touch you if you are crazy.
Found this. Do scroll down.
Still laughing. 😀
And yet many of our betters seem to believe that excusing antisocial degeneracy, and expecting others to meekly put up with it, is somehow synonymous with civilisation.
Take 2: A Masters thesis of note.
As far as I can make out, the council chairman, Winston Vaughan, doesn’t appear to be being contrarian or malicious. He just stumbles verbally, as one might when faced with this pretentious nonsense. And yet, almost immediately, theatrical flouncing ensues, as if on hot standby: “Workplace bullying should never happen.” Says the narcissistic man using his little pronoun game to bully others – by making them say things that they don’t for a minute believe to be true.
…the attractions of spreading peyote extract…
Speaking of sketchy hallucinogens,
Whether it will be used for The Privacy Tour Trauma Unpacking (live stream tickets only $33.99) remains to be seen.
Back in the 60’s and 70’s, my New Age friends insisted that his Castaneda’s books were genuine and should be respected. When the fraud was exposed, they said it didn’t matter.
82 pages. Good Lord.
No need to read so far. All is reveled on page iii:
I wonder how many here will get that reference.
Not much use for gun oil this side of the water, but if you own an old car without a roof, here’s a tip from the Oik. Wipe a smear of Castrol R, or indeed any castor-based 2-stroke oil, on the exhaust manifold before setting off. As things begin to warm up your journey will be enhanced by a wonderful, life affirming odour.
And it’s better than burning sage, let me tell thee
All is revealed on page iii:
I thought the title pretty much gave it all away.
Well kinda. But we really mustn’t judge too quickly. Though in this case page iii was far enough. Meanwhile, Wisconsin relationships are weird.