In a recent email chain my friends and I were discussing Cherokee Indians and Religion (yes), when one of the best rants I have ever heard sprang forth out of the confusion. See for yourself:
Culla I hate you.
Here is a lesson from a from a real Cherokee, not some made up god-loving Cherokee because we all know that Indians don't believe in God, they believe in vengeance and malice.
"When time gets you down you should gamble. And I don't mean play the penny slots or even a $5 blackjack game – I mean fucking gamble. Bet what you can't afford on a game that you can never beat. Betting large when you know you are going to lose is the sign of a true Indian. Every other bet should hold the keys to your future in its grasp. Your anus should be so puckered up from the excitement that you couldn't shit a pea. Now that's how you fucking know you are fucking gambling.
And when you lose your breathes get shorter and shorter and more difficult to come by, as you feel the malignant cancer in your brain start to grow and grow, feeding off of your incessant aggression. You feel lethal. On the verge of frenzy. You want to kill, not just yourself, but everyone in the casino…but not until you rape the dealer who just fist-fucked you first.
And after that is all said and done you drink. And I don't mean have a beer or two and call it a night. I mean fucking drink! Grab a bottle of whiskey, scotch, and bourbon (that way you cover all whiskey types) and dive in. Do not look for hope, because there is none. Your only hope lies in an empty bottle. So drink until the bottle is empty. Once this is accomplished you have a bevy of options ahead of you – piss yourself, make sexist comments, howl at the moon, pay a stripper to give you a rim-job…while you pee, poop on the floor, poop on someones chest, paint yourself in war paint and take someones scalp, fart on a white-man's hair, do your laundry, and so on and so forth. I think you get the picture.
Lastly, you load up a shotgun. And no I don't mean a make-believe shotgun. I mean a real fucking shotgun, double-barreled, preferably sawed-off. You load it, you point it to your brain, and you pull the fucking trigger. Why? I'll tell you why… You are a fucking Indian. And you my friend, are fucking mad. And you are not going to take it anymore."
Let that be a lesson for all of us. Now Culla, go back to your kiddy-porn and your fairy-tales while all the rest of us wallow in self-pity and booze.
The Exorcist
