Wow! Another year has blitzed on by and I'm still here you bastards! To coin a phrase from Dustin Hoffman in an ol' classic, PAPILLON, as his character floated away on a makeshift raft from Devil's Island or some French horror story. I imagine myself floating away with a piece of fry bread in one hand and a French bottle of red wine, an "ndn sports mascot" (Cleveland Indians) is my Saint painted on my pitiful sail which will carry me to freedom (Bush's favorite word besides, free'em?)...

Imagine I was the Kennewick Man ("Ancient One" or just call me, Bones), and I arrived intact with my skin and intelligence still lingering on my shoulders from my deep sleep. Do you or anyone else think I care if you bothered to ask me if I just wanted to rest in my waterbed in peace? And after all the fuss over my bones did you think to ask me if I just wouldn't mind going back to where you found me? You people have made a mess of this land and from what I have seen on the news and heard floating through the halls of these cold examination halls, there is a fight who owns my bones. What if I said none of you, Native Indigenous peoples or scientists or courts or border makers own me? Who listens to the dead? What I can tell you about my world of the past is we took care of the earth and took only what we needed. My bones may not be mine, but they are not YOURS either.

The pain I see from what people have become, neither themselves, but rather reflections of what they can't be, but will try to be anyway cuz there is a sense of loss of identity. Indians and Blacks and Hispanics looking more like White people and vice versa cuz they think they need to be who they are not. Then this causes paranoia from country to country trying to guess who someone really is or is not. This is not to say I as the Kennewick bag of bones man doesn't see the great strides the present world has taken. Speed or moving from one place to another is very cool. The way news can be told from across the world with efficiency is incredible. But, the truth is still manipulated or hid as much as possible. And the more people there is in the world the more there is a means to destroy them.

Please, return my bones back to where you found them and allow my spirit to rest. Everyone I have known or loved is gone now. Allow me to go and tell them what the world has become after 10,000 years. I promise to tell them it was an APRIL FOOL'S JOKE. ENIT?!?!