I think it was in second or third grade when I first heard about the Tea Party. I mean the original Boston Tea Party in 1773, not the current rabid Republican posse who have appointed themselves “Tea Partiers.”
Teacher explained to we wee, very impressionable elementary school children that the American colonizers (the good guys) got a really big bedbug up their behind because the British (the bad guys) kept sneakily raising taxes. I wasn’t sure what taxes were for then, but apparently taxes are awful and made grown-ass white men dress up as savage Mohawk “Indians” by applying cheap war paint and dyed fake ostrich feathers when they stormed a couple British ships and tossed entire tea shipments overboard.
In my brain’s meticulous memory file there is a picture from a textbook of the highly displeased colonizers impersonating Indians and looking quite foolish. I thought; who are they tryna fool? My young self was puzzled about two things; did they think Indians really loved imported tea so much that they were seen as capable of rampaging about it and; what’s wrong with coffee? I like coffee!
Well, as it turned out there was more to the story, which of course involved money, the beginnings of the American Revolution, yadda-yadda-yadda. But somehow I never forgot that graphic of pink, chubby, hairy white men dressing up as Indians and then doing something seemingly atrocious. The dominant culture still likes blaming Native people for anything and everything, yanno? It’s completely rooted in their culture. Think Manifest Destiny when our ancestors were in their way and refused to move from their homes.
By the way, for those people who think American Indian people don’t pay taxes? We do. Go up to any lone Indian woman and/or a bunch of armed Indian military veterans; then proclaim what you believe. I dare you! Let me know how that goes, ay?
Back to the present day, to the contemporary Tea Party who havs been successful in voting in their choices for public office past the primaries, no matter what the candidates’ questionable past might is. There are a lot of examples, but I am truly saddened and very mystified by Christine O’Donnell from the Great State of Delaware. Where has she been all this time? What took so long? I so adore a good, hearty laugh!
O’Donnell admits to dabbling in witchcraft, having been a blackout drunk, and she emphatically does not condone loving oneself. In other words, she is the Complete Republican. Can you imagine the Evangelical outcry and righteous right-wing furor had she ran for any other party? Sad! I can just hear The View’s Elizabeth in her chalkboard-screechy voice saying that The Mainstream Media are picking on O’Donnell like they do Sarah Palin merely for being incredibly unqualified.
The seat for the Delaware Senate should be a sweep, we need people like Ms. O’Donnell, get it? She makes my darling President Clinton look like an angelic, pristine altar boy; not of the satanic kind she freely admits to associating with. My opinion. This is still the United States of America after all, so go vote and make sure it stays that way.
Now for my final words on the Tea Party candidates and their supporters. Bwah-hah-hah-hah-hah! The one thing that may cause me uneasiness is if they add cheap whiskey to some lemonishy/tea-flavored generic Kool-Aid, begin to sermonize amongst themselves and get all snaky. I fear they will manage to squeeze out of their busted-up, China-made lawn chairs with their Adult Nappies (made in Taiwan) intact and agree that it’s a brilliant idea to re-enact dressing up as Indians like their ancestors did and loot and pillage. Then they’ll blame it on us Indians again. History does repeat itself, yanno?
A new revolution is coming but it won’t be quite what American Idiots might hope. TV host Jon Stewart called for a Rally to Restore Sanity October 30, 2010, to be held on the Washington D.C. Mall. American Patriot Stephen Colbert, a recent migrant farm worker, is calling for a co-rally to Keep Fear Alive. I Really, Really Wanna Go. Who, oh who, do I choose?
Well’I didn’t anticipate using up all my column space ranting and raving about politics again. Really! I feel the need to include some intelligent topics like: my Super-Cat Horus has “Paws of Mouse Destruction”: sadly, for a minute, recall I could not the name of Yoda, annoying it was: and most of all I am grateful for all the gifts from The Creator.
Ricey Wild can be reached at: firstname.lastname@example.org.