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Cat and Mouse, Part III
I was arrested, jailed, evicted, and banned from the Pine Ridge Reservation, all without a hearing or court order. Without a doubt, the authorities want to stop me from writing. The post-modern goon squad comes to beat me up, damage my computer, and steal my documents.
CAT AND MOUSE, PART III
Racism, poverty, and fascism work hand-in-hand to create a totally lawless situation from which a bully can really rake in all the money, resources, land, jobs, houses; whatever the bully wants, the bully gets. I think its called imperialism or colonization. The best way for an occupying force to subjugate the Native population is by installing a puppet government, and installing English speaking natives to have totally power over the Lakota speakers. It’s pretty easy to buy out the Hangs-Around-the-Fort. I hear they are selling votes for as little as ten dollars. Over 80 million Federal dollars comes into the Pine Ridge Reservation every year. Yet when you look around, there is absolutely nothing to show for it. It gets gobbled up in salaries paid out to the guards and task masters to oppress and terrorize the Oyate, the real people. Much of the money goes to very questionable “programs” which do very minimal amount for Lakotas. One of the biggest is Housing which is one of the biggest terrorist outfits on the Reservation. They give houses to their friends and relatives, regardless of their income. When they don’t like someone, they evict them. But a lot of money intended for the programs ends up in the general fund, which the corrupt Council and Executive siphon off to pay off very questionable expenses. And the people are left out in the cold.
Because I stood up and objected to the corruption, fraud, and theft taking place by high level officials, and I wrote about it, I became a target, and I am still under attack.
There must be a special place in hell for those attack the artists, the writers, in a vicious attempt to silence the natural voice of the people, for it is through the artists that things get remembered. No one recalls Napoleon too much, but everyone remembers what he did because of “The Third of May” by Franciso Goya, with the Spanish peasants being lined up and gunned down, and Pablo Picaso’s “Guernica” , the obliteration of a Spanish village by Hitler’s forces.
An artist needs a space, place, and peace of mind to be able to paint. This is one of the first things I told Louise when she invited me to live and build on what I thought was her land. Later, this became something I have been unable to do because of Louise Big Boy and her son, Robert Montileaux. My art supplies, along with the art materials, and art magazine, and text books which I need to paint with, and teach with for Oglala Lakota College, have been damaged or stolen. Go to my web site http://www.lakotaperspectives.com to view some of the work I am capable of. My house and studio have been ransacked and given to Louise by Judge Lisa Cook, without me being present at a bogus hearing, which was not called for by the BIA.
It is bad enough that these cretin pigs snorted and rooted their way through my studio, creating havoc like what is done to the Palestinians. The deliberate attack on my computer and myself, tells me that someone higher in the chain of command was, if not giving orders, paying someone to beat me up and steal my documents, someone with a depraved mentality. The object is to silence me from telling the story of how BIA is falsifying records and stealing Indian land, and how the FBI is destroying evidence, planting evidence to cover up the theft, rapes, and murders going on, how they frame up innocent men for the murders like Leonard Peltier and Arlo Looking Cloud. Here’s what happened:
July 2nd, Gary Rowland asked me not to move into the round building at Wounded Knee. I had a majority of big items moved in and 2 pick-ups sitting there, loaded. On July 5th I go over to Wounded Knee and load up prints and art work. Discover someone has been messing with the pick-ups, because a wrecking bar and vise grips are found laying on floor board of the Chevy pick-up, wires dangling. Handy-man jack, jumper cables missing from Ford. I call Ken Hart. Finally reach him in the evening. He goes out and gets both pick-ups. Discovers batteries have been stolen.
Leroy, Quincey, Ken, and myself go to Wounded Knee. Load up everything. Haul it back to Leroys. Quincey helps unload. Early that same morning, Wally, Leroy’s son calls and wants to borrow a battery so he can drive him blue car out of here, where it has been sitting all winter. (He also is getting ready to have a Sundance!)
A few hours later, 4pm Leroy’s family, mainly Shelly Waters, grandaughter age 18, and daughter Stephanie Waters, come down. Leroy goes outside to help try start car. Shelly and Stephanie come in the house, to terrorize me. I stay by computer because they have attacked the computer before, damaging it in an attempt to stop me from writing.
Shelly starts packing up her things which are on chair beside me, her mouth going a mile a minute. “Cunt, bitch, pig, you can’t stay here…on and on. I just ignore her, and look out the window. She opens up a knife, making sure I see it. “You can’t stay here with my Dad,” she says waving the knife in my face. Yes, I am afraid but I am not going to let them damage my computer like they did before. She runs around the house slashing up my shoes and nightgown. At some point, she must have stolen my documents because the pillow was slashed where I had hidden them. She jumps up on the bed, looks me in the face and repeats her obscenities, the only vocabulary she has been taught by her grandmama. She jumps off the bed, grabs my printer and flings it to the floor. I go for the phone but she grabs it. I turn to go outside and her jumps me, hitting me on my head and neck. She is slapping my face as I am calling out the window to Leroy.
Leroy comes in and I call the police. Shelly denies everything, and Stephanie backs her up. Then Stephanie start in. She is calling me all kinds of foul names. Then she accuses me of writing things about them on the Internet, that I said things like Leroy has an ugly exwife with equally ugly daughters. She said she read Lakota Perspectives and found it there. (The only time I may have mentioned they was in mail to BB, an attorney who needs to be kept apprised of the situation here.) She went to extraordinary lengths to prove how low down mean and ugly she could be. She also accused me of writing about Louise Big Boy and Arlo Looking Cloud, which I found very interesting, but I said very little to her. She was using all kinds of obscenities. Her brother is having a sundance at this very time. Leroy went and sat down. I called police again. Stephanie is working herself into an ugly rage. Her words are now threatening phyical violence, that she might as well beat me up before she goes to jail. She said I called they ugly and she was going to beat me up. She didn’t like the way I was writing about Louise, her mother’s good friend. Leroy tells her to knock it off, but she totally ignores him. She grabs my hair and begins punching me in the face. Leroy says something in Lakota. She runs outside, jumps in the van, and away they all go, leaving behind the blue car.
Police arrive, one officer. Tell him what happen inside house with Leroy present. Officer asks me to come outside alone. Lawrence, Leroy’s nephew came to door to see what was going on.
Officer Frances Martinez advises me that it is a set up, that if I report these girls, the Tribal court can do anything, including removing me from the Reservation. “This is Leroy’s land, his house, his daughters. You can do what you want, but it would be best if Leroy handled it. But it is entirely your decision.”
Later, I called the FBI and talk to Agent Dan Cooper who who did not think a crime had been committed, so therefore he refused to investigate.
This is what I call the post-modern goon squad in action. When Area Director Bob Eccofey, Superintendent Larry Bodin, Reality Officer Frieda Marshall, and local officials cannot get rid of me or silence me, they find a depraved local to assault me, then steal and destroy evidence. Real Lakotas tell me that what white people did to them was bad, but it really stabs the heart when Lakotas are doing it to Lakotas. The worst ones are the authorities who oppress the people, and deny them their rights and due process.
The gang returned in full force on August 6th. At 11pm a bunch of cars pulled into the yard. Steffanie, the one who had assaulted me marched into the house, sat down on a chair, and glowered at me. There were some comings and goings. Leroy went outside. I locked the door and started to pack a few things. Leroy came back in. The whole gang were sworling about, including the ex, screaming and yelling. Then in comes one of Leroy’s sons who is drunk. He grabs Leroy. I am wondering how I am going to get from the house to my car without getting beat up, when the door flies open and in walks Peggie, a full blooded Lakota. Fish makes a comment to her and she tell him to get out of her way. I look at her in astonishment and ask if she can help me get my things out. She said that’s what she came for. She had heard all the yelling going on and had come running.
I stayed with Peggie until the gang decided to jump on their brooms and ride out. They are riding high because they have the law, the courts, and the Council behind them, backing them up. Sovereignty is used as a screen to cover all sorts of criminal activities. The gang stayed for more than a week, during which time, I could do nothing. More than anything else, I resent the loss of my time, my artist’s time.
This is exactly why so-called Tribal government doesn’t work for the people. It functions as a strong arm to oppress and terrorize the people. Anyone who stands up to them will find themselves intimidated and traumatized by the courts, the police, and the post-modern goon squad. I have talked to many Lakotas who have given up all hope for any justice, who have had their brothers murdered and their daughters raped by the Indian police. There is no investigations. And they go on drinking. Tony Black Feather always said, “Every day a real Lakota is sent to the slaughter, like a psychologically abused lamb. And no crumb of justice will ever justify the abuse he has suffered at the hands of the corrupt system which says it is helping him.”
The corrupt system really ties into people’s hatred of white people. There is a certain element here that fans the fires of racism. Louise is a good example of that. She says that as a white person I have no rights. I deserve to have all my things stolen because she is Indian and I am not. In her words, I’m just a white woman who is trying to steal her land, and the Tribal government and courts and BIA really backs her up on this. Some people, the ones in power, agree with this. But mainly, the full blooded Lakotas do not agree with it. Like Peggie, more than a few are willing to do something about it.
It is time for you to come together. Testify to the wrongs that have been done to you. I have a complaint form from the Justice Department to have someone from the Justice Department come out and investigate. You can get a copy of this form from me jlschmidt [at] gwtc.net call 605-867-2413. Or call Ken Hart, leader of Cante Oyate, 605-867-5519 or Lucy Bull Bear at 605-455-1138.
Racism, poverty, and fascism work hand-in-hand to create a totally lawless situation from which a bully can really rake in all the money, resources, land, jobs, houses; whatever the bully wants, the bully gets. I think its called imperialism or colonization. The best way for an occupying force to subjugate the Native population is by installing a puppet government, and installing English speaking natives to have totally power over the Lakota speakers. It’s pretty easy to buy out the Hangs-Around-the-Fort. I hear they are selling votes for as little as ten dollars. Over 80 million Federal dollars comes into the Pine Ridge Reservation every year. Yet when you look around, there is absolutely nothing to show for it. It gets gobbled up in salaries paid out to the guards and task masters to oppress and terrorize the Oyate, the real people. Much of the money goes to very questionable “programs” which do very minimal amount for Lakotas. One of the biggest is Housing which is one of the biggest terrorist outfits on the Reservation. They give houses to their friends and relatives, regardless of their income. When they don’t like someone, they evict them. But a lot of money intended for the programs ends up in the general fund, which the corrupt Council and Executive siphon off to pay off very questionable expenses. And the people are left out in the cold.
Because I stood up and objected to the corruption, fraud, and theft taking place by high level officials, and I wrote about it, I became a target, and I am still under attack.
There must be a special place in hell for those attack the artists, the writers, in a vicious attempt to silence the natural voice of the people, for it is through the artists that things get remembered. No one recalls Napoleon too much, but everyone remembers what he did because of “The Third of May” by Franciso Goya, with the Spanish peasants being lined up and gunned down, and Pablo Picaso’s “Guernica” , the obliteration of a Spanish village by Hitler’s forces.
An artist needs a space, place, and peace of mind to be able to paint. This is one of the first things I told Louise when she invited me to live and build on what I thought was her land. Later, this became something I have been unable to do because of Louise Big Boy and her son, Robert Montileaux. My art supplies, along with the art materials, and art magazine, and text books which I need to paint with, and teach with for Oglala Lakota College, have been damaged or stolen. Go to my web site http://www.lakotaperspectives.com to view some of the work I am capable of. My house and studio have been ransacked and given to Louise by Judge Lisa Cook, without me being present at a bogus hearing, which was not called for by the BIA.
It is bad enough that these cretin pigs snorted and rooted their way through my studio, creating havoc like what is done to the Palestinians. The deliberate attack on my computer and myself, tells me that someone higher in the chain of command was, if not giving orders, paying someone to beat me up and steal my documents, someone with a depraved mentality. The object is to silence me from telling the story of how BIA is falsifying records and stealing Indian land, and how the FBI is destroying evidence, planting evidence to cover up the theft, rapes, and murders going on, how they frame up innocent men for the murders like Leonard Peltier and Arlo Looking Cloud. Here’s what happened:
July 2nd, Gary Rowland asked me not to move into the round building at Wounded Knee. I had a majority of big items moved in and 2 pick-ups sitting there, loaded. On July 5th I go over to Wounded Knee and load up prints and art work. Discover someone has been messing with the pick-ups, because a wrecking bar and vise grips are found laying on floor board of the Chevy pick-up, wires dangling. Handy-man jack, jumper cables missing from Ford. I call Ken Hart. Finally reach him in the evening. He goes out and gets both pick-ups. Discovers batteries have been stolen.
Leroy, Quincey, Ken, and myself go to Wounded Knee. Load up everything. Haul it back to Leroys. Quincey helps unload. Early that same morning, Wally, Leroy’s son calls and wants to borrow a battery so he can drive him blue car out of here, where it has been sitting all winter. (He also is getting ready to have a Sundance!)
A few hours later, 4pm Leroy’s family, mainly Shelly Waters, grandaughter age 18, and daughter Stephanie Waters, come down. Leroy goes outside to help try start car. Shelly and Stephanie come in the house, to terrorize me. I stay by computer because they have attacked the computer before, damaging it in an attempt to stop me from writing.
Shelly starts packing up her things which are on chair beside me, her mouth going a mile a minute. “Cunt, bitch, pig, you can’t stay here…on and on. I just ignore her, and look out the window. She opens up a knife, making sure I see it. “You can’t stay here with my Dad,” she says waving the knife in my face. Yes, I am afraid but I am not going to let them damage my computer like they did before. She runs around the house slashing up my shoes and nightgown. At some point, she must have stolen my documents because the pillow was slashed where I had hidden them. She jumps up on the bed, looks me in the face and repeats her obscenities, the only vocabulary she has been taught by her grandmama. She jumps off the bed, grabs my printer and flings it to the floor. I go for the phone but she grabs it. I turn to go outside and her jumps me, hitting me on my head and neck. She is slapping my face as I am calling out the window to Leroy.
Leroy comes in and I call the police. Shelly denies everything, and Stephanie backs her up. Then Stephanie start in. She is calling me all kinds of foul names. Then she accuses me of writing things about them on the Internet, that I said things like Leroy has an ugly exwife with equally ugly daughters. She said she read Lakota Perspectives and found it there. (The only time I may have mentioned they was in mail to BB, an attorney who needs to be kept apprised of the situation here.) She went to extraordinary lengths to prove how low down mean and ugly she could be. She also accused me of writing about Louise Big Boy and Arlo Looking Cloud, which I found very interesting, but I said very little to her. She was using all kinds of obscenities. Her brother is having a sundance at this very time. Leroy went and sat down. I called police again. Stephanie is working herself into an ugly rage. Her words are now threatening phyical violence, that she might as well beat me up before she goes to jail. She said I called they ugly and she was going to beat me up. She didn’t like the way I was writing about Louise, her mother’s good friend. Leroy tells her to knock it off, but she totally ignores him. She grabs my hair and begins punching me in the face. Leroy says something in Lakota. She runs outside, jumps in the van, and away they all go, leaving behind the blue car.
Police arrive, one officer. Tell him what happen inside house with Leroy present. Officer asks me to come outside alone. Lawrence, Leroy’s nephew came to door to see what was going on.
Officer Frances Martinez advises me that it is a set up, that if I report these girls, the Tribal court can do anything, including removing me from the Reservation. “This is Leroy’s land, his house, his daughters. You can do what you want, but it would be best if Leroy handled it. But it is entirely your decision.”
Later, I called the FBI and talk to Agent Dan Cooper who who did not think a crime had been committed, so therefore he refused to investigate.
This is what I call the post-modern goon squad in action. When Area Director Bob Eccofey, Superintendent Larry Bodin, Reality Officer Frieda Marshall, and local officials cannot get rid of me or silence me, they find a depraved local to assault me, then steal and destroy evidence. Real Lakotas tell me that what white people did to them was bad, but it really stabs the heart when Lakotas are doing it to Lakotas. The worst ones are the authorities who oppress the people, and deny them their rights and due process.
The gang returned in full force on August 6th. At 11pm a bunch of cars pulled into the yard. Steffanie, the one who had assaulted me marched into the house, sat down on a chair, and glowered at me. There were some comings and goings. Leroy went outside. I locked the door and started to pack a few things. Leroy came back in. The whole gang were sworling about, including the ex, screaming and yelling. Then in comes one of Leroy’s sons who is drunk. He grabs Leroy. I am wondering how I am going to get from the house to my car without getting beat up, when the door flies open and in walks Peggie, a full blooded Lakota. Fish makes a comment to her and she tell him to get out of her way. I look at her in astonishment and ask if she can help me get my things out. She said that’s what she came for. She had heard all the yelling going on and had come running.
I stayed with Peggie until the gang decided to jump on their brooms and ride out. They are riding high because they have the law, the courts, and the Council behind them, backing them up. Sovereignty is used as a screen to cover all sorts of criminal activities. The gang stayed for more than a week, during which time, I could do nothing. More than anything else, I resent the loss of my time, my artist’s time.
This is exactly why so-called Tribal government doesn’t work for the people. It functions as a strong arm to oppress and terrorize the people. Anyone who stands up to them will find themselves intimidated and traumatized by the courts, the police, and the post-modern goon squad. I have talked to many Lakotas who have given up all hope for any justice, who have had their brothers murdered and their daughters raped by the Indian police. There is no investigations. And they go on drinking. Tony Black Feather always said, “Every day a real Lakota is sent to the slaughter, like a psychologically abused lamb. And no crumb of justice will ever justify the abuse he has suffered at the hands of the corrupt system which says it is helping him.”
The corrupt system really ties into people’s hatred of white people. There is a certain element here that fans the fires of racism. Louise is a good example of that. She says that as a white person I have no rights. I deserve to have all my things stolen because she is Indian and I am not. In her words, I’m just a white woman who is trying to steal her land, and the Tribal government and courts and BIA really backs her up on this. Some people, the ones in power, agree with this. But mainly, the full blooded Lakotas do not agree with it. Like Peggie, more than a few are willing to do something about it.
It is time for you to come together. Testify to the wrongs that have been done to you. I have a complaint form from the Justice Department to have someone from the Justice Department come out and investigate. You can get a copy of this form from me jlschmidt [at] gwtc.net call 605-867-2413. Or call Ken Hart, leader of Cante Oyate, 605-867-5519 or Lucy Bull Bear at 605-455-1138.
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I see from your writings that you have had some additional attempts made upon your digntiy and rights.
What is Ken Hart´s address? I need it. Yesterday.
I hope, and highly recommend, that you retain copies of all correspondence. You will need it later.
You have to ask yourself this now; do you choose to stay and fight or do you choose to remove yourself from the scene of the crimes committed against you?
How many goons are located on that particular reservation? Do you know their identities? Their habits, movements, residences? We need it. Yesterday.
Who among the elders is prepared to remain Oglala and who has chosen to be an oppressor for personal gain?
Who is the leader of the goons? We want those profiles asap.
Lisa Cook has to be singled out and her actions must be reviewed by higher authority if that is possible (if higher authority is as corrupted as she, then the review will take place elsewhere) and appropriate measures taken in accordance with the findings.
As for the cretins that are attempting to initimidate you, that sounds like a set-up, or just plain ignorant maliciousness no doubt. Still, you must be certain that your case is valid, your cause correct, and this can only be established through prima facie evidence. NO amount of talk or verbal claims will resolve your issue. Your situation sounds to me as though it could warrant making certain that you can physically protect yourself at all times.
An interesting anecdote about despotic rule is that the more the awful truth is revealed the harsher measures despots attempt to mete out upon the innocent, proving the case against themselves that much more readily. Hence my point just above.
Once again, on another note, just to review:
1. Have you contacted The American Friends? legal aid
2. Have you compiled all documentation of the facts? proof
3. Are you continuously in the company of protectors? safety
4. Are you in contact with higher tribal authority? legitimacy
5. Have you considered whether or not there is evidence that
would lead to the immediate ... arrest ... of certain people
due to their activities...? Preferably evidence of a nature
that would be of interest to as examples, the FBI, the NSA,
iow outside the parameters of "tribal justice"? Think about
that awhile. Deliberately counterstriking the opposition
Fire is often best defeated by fire. The weak will run, those who truly believe will bear any hardship...
In the spirit of Crazy Horse,
Robert
"A little background. Twelve years ago, I made a little mistake and became involved with a Lakota man, who had an ugly wife and 9 ugly kids."
So what are you Janis, Senile ? or just a Liar !!!!!
Mrs. Mary F. Lovell says: "Many persons never caution their children to treat their cats kindly, nor explain what kind treatment is; they eat their own meals with unvarying regularity, but do not notice that the poor cat is thin; and in reply to any hint on the subject complacently answer that feeding a cat spoils it for catching mice, and that it is quite able to get its own living; that to kill mice is what it is kept for.
These persons do not trouble themselves to find out whether there are any mice to kill, or if there are, whether they are ever within reach of the hungry cat; nor do they stop to consider that a cat enfeebled by neglect and starvation is not in the proper condition to catch its prey. Above all, they forget that mice are endowed with instinct, and can detect the presence of a cat on the premises by their sense of smell and of hearing, and are, therefore, wary and less easily caught as soon as the cat becomes a settled inhabitant.
"Are cats more attached to places than to persons? I am happy to find that the opinion of all cat-lovers, nearly all cat breeders, and the large majority of people who keep a cat for utility, is that cats are as a rule more attached to their owners than to their homes. This question then must be considered as set at rest, and a stigma removed from the name and character of our friend, the cat. The popular fallacy, that cats are fonder of places ,than persons, first took its origin in the days, long gone by, when cats were kept for use only and never as pets; and it only obtains now among people who look upon pussy as a mere animated rat-trap, and who starve, neglect, and in every way ill-treat 'the poor thing. Although of a nature not so demonstrative as that of the dog, still a cat is capable of loving its master or mistress with a love equally strong, if not stronger.
'My own cat,' writes a lady correspondent, 'although greatly petted by its master, appears quite wretched whenever I go on a visit. After mewing at my door for a day or two, it leaves the house, often remaining away for weeks; but his delight at seeing me when I return, his fond rush towards me and his song of joy are very pretty: The same lady gives an account of a venerable old tortoise-shell puss who goes to sea with its master, an officer in an East Indiaman, and keeps watch with him by night or day in all weathers. No wonder he is fond of her.
I know an instance of a cat that was very strongly attached to a boy. When this boy was sent to a distant school, pussy, after mourning for him several days, took to the woods and never returned.
Six years ago, an intimate friend of mine, who `loveth all things great and small,' went to reside for a time with a family in town. A fine blue cat was an inmate of the same house.
'The cat,' said the mistress, 'belongs to the family that lived here before; it has been five times removed, and always comes back.
My friend only remained there for six weeks, when he changed his residence for a house he had taken only a few streets off; but when he left, that bonny blue cat trotted by his side all the way home, and it has not returned yet.
Stories are told of cats who have left the house altogether and in some cases have died apparently of grief after the departure of some person to whom they were especially attached.
Mrs. Mary F. Lovell says: "Many persons never caution their children to treat their cats kindly, nor explain what kind treatment is; they eat their own meals with unvarying regularity, but do not notice that the poor cat is thin; and in reply to any hint on the subject complacently answer that feeding a cat spoils it for catching mice, and that it is quite able to get its own living; that to kill mice is what it is kept for.
These persons do not trouble themselves to find out whether there are any mice to kill, or if there are, whether they are ever within reach of the hungry cat; nor do they stop to consider that a cat enfeebled by neglect and starvation is not in the proper condition to catch its prey. Above all, they forget that mice are endowed with instinct, and can detect the presence of a cat on the premises by their sense of smell and of hearing, and are, therefore, wary and less easily caught as soon as the cat becomes a settled inhabitant.