#WeTakingSwaziBack

There's an ancient symbol that few people see – it is the venerable, holy swazi; it's found on this Isle of the Gods (fair Bali) but not since the 40s in far Germany. In fact that Teutonic and rational state did long ago ban forbid defenestrate the swazi regardless of which way it turned because droves of innocents long ago burned. The symbol itself though did do nothing wrong, was used by a madman to whip up his throngs – they mounted it atop their tall wooden poles under which they murdered Slavs Jews gays and Poles. Since placing my boots though upon this dark ground I have on occasion seen swazis around and realized they were not the foul racist type – instead they were beautiful; fuck all the hype. It's known as swastika or sewastikasyu; it deals with awaking clean and brand-new; here it is ubiquitous, come have a look, then read learn about it in leather-bound books. The symbol is indeed a very old one and represents the crooked rays of the sun and represents rebirth and hope that some day our different-skinned children together will play. Now take back its meaning from racists and thugs and sweep its majesty from under the rug – foul Nazis debased it and made it seem cruel but theirs was a pitiful, life-sucking rule. The swazi is revered by Hindu, Buddhist; it brings about deep calm and spiritual bliss; it's not the property of hate-spewing hacks wherefore we hereby taking our swazi back.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

old angry giant

There stood on a mountain not far from her home an old angry cyclops who'd frozen to stone. One peak was his massive and man-crushing arse that was now not flesh and bone but rock and karst; another stark feature that reached to the sky was his dome-like forehead with its central eye. There was a long ridge made from his spinal tract that his rocky rump with his head did connect, upon which but foolhardy wanderers went – too many their blood and lives to it had lent. Regardless, the maiden – Lalu, to her friends – (she was a bit foolish) did not comprehend, the dangers and perils of fog and weather that lived in that high haunted wind-swept heather. She crossed the formation in one solid run then came to her senses (and nearly undone) when she saw the day's eye sink quickly below the high western mountains and their hats of snow. She started to shiver, remember a class that she had once taken as a pig-tailed lass, then found an outcropping that sheltered her some where she did then huddle and try to stay warm. Instead of just waiting in that spot to freeze she ripped up nearby moss and gathered some leaves and used them to make for herself a mattress so that on the rock the would not have to rest. To stoke up a fire was not an option and she had forgotten to bring her hand-phone – therefore she then prayed to the gods of her tribe and asked them to help her the night to survive. The message arrived in the eardrums of fair wise Nuuzstathena, who vanquishes fear, who sent out a legion of furry field-mice that swarmed upon Lalu and warmed her up nice. They crept in her pockets, invaded her coat, were thickest at ankles and kidneys and throat, and kept the young person alive through the night, but vanished as soon as they espied first light. The girl made it back home in time for breakfast, told all who would listen about her dire quest, then went to a temple where the Goddess lived where she many blessings and thank-yous did give.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

truth honor wisdom

A specter is haunting this steppe heath and wold – its outlines are shadowed its origins old. It's sprung from a foetid not-yet-barren womb and must be sent straight down to an earthen tomb to keep it from poisoning minds big and small or letting it sound out its beckoning call. We speak here of hatred and anger and woe that in hearts affected by sadness soon grow, that in hearts exposed to just one or two thoughts will spring up as quick as teenagers' spots. To combat this menace we gather discuss and talk about issues important to us, and talk about keeping our minds and souls free of racism and extreme relig'osity. Now read from a dozen or more holy books and search in the crannies and cubbies and nooks for Truth Honor Wisdom for Simplicity and rejoice in mankind's vast diversity. We urge all to do this and gently command the people of this fine Grigovian land to embrace each other regardless of creed with patient and loving, deliberate speed.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

fourth chakra hearts

Arise and be merry – the Goddess alights; she's come now to cure us of hate want and fright. We open our 3rd eyes and 4th chakra hearts; a few here are advanced, some stand at the start; it's crucial to know that all healing takes time, that decades of habit don't stop on a dime. To sacrifice daily of time wealth and love helps each one among us to rise up above the dictates of greediness sadness and fear which in modern cultures are always too near. We thus turn to One with a new agenda, to mighty and majestic Nuuzstathena; She teaches compassion and patience and care, for Hers is a glory merciful and fair. Sit therefore down quietly, utter no sound, but make the breath deep with the rump on the ground and curse not the vagrant or negative thought – instead keep the present with all that you've got. The anus should be loose not clenched or pulled up, the fingers and toes should be spread not balled up, then after a day or a month or a year you will start to notice the retreat of fear, the ending of dark thoughts and long sleepless nights, the dawning of clarity calmness and light.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥​

right to reside

Our meeting creeps closer, we're happy to say, the one that will allow all our people to stay within these tight borders of which we've grown fond, among vast rice-paddies and swaying palm-fronds. We twelve have been granted the right to reside here where our forefathers they struggled and died defending the honor of this tiny fleck that is with rich temples and fine shrines bedecked. The first delegation to land on these shores did come here to learn about the daily chores that all these proud people do without much fuss – mostly 'cause they want to not just 'cause they must. As soon as they got here they joined right on in, and taught a few youngsters to twist rope and swim, and married some daughters and some sisters too, and made a few babies (that's what people do). Then came the invasion by him nasty Dutch whose patience was little whose anger was much who tore out the hearts of the neighboring kings (the proud Balinese though would have no such thing). Our people they fought against Dutchie and Jap, with spear knife and rifle, with spring-loaded trap, and threw those foul outlaws back into the sea and hung up their entrails – like garlands – from trees. The Balinese people did not soon forget the wee contribution from Geriguv'yet and welcomed us back to this magical isle where we do believe we shall stay for a while.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

not a waver

There was not a waver that swept through their ranks for they had already prayed and given thanks to each of the gods that they'd known since birth – instead they just waited in silence and mirth. Then there came the signal and up they all sprang, a deep-throated cry was what most of them sang as they charged tore slashed at their most-hated foes while followed by many a murder of crows. A handful among them did perish that day but not before making the intruders pay for taking and raping western Pyltagrad (our boys sent those vermin to meet their foul god). So off with your head-wear and make not a sound for we are remembering, here on this ground, the sacrifice, honor, and valiant stand of brave and bright warriors who died for this land.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

brave harried handful

Outnumbered, exhausted, quite thirsty and hot, the brave Harried Handful examined its lot. We need to keep moving, the shortest one said, Lest we rise tomorrow not living but dead. I concur, said he whose roots lay in the East, We must make the top of that mountain, at least. Right-O, said the tallest, whose name was unknown, We rouse in five minutes our too-weary bones and follow the lead of our Eastern compat, with eyes like the fox and with ears like the bat. And soon they'd refilled from a swift little stream their goatskin and glass-lined and metal canteens; then obscured each footprint and other such trace that proved they had been in that watering place; leaped up, quit with sitting, and made for the peak; each took a turn helping to carry the weak. Halfway to the summit they heard much clamor erupt from the spot where they had been before, did not turn to look but kept creeping along, the noises below were those of a vast throng. As the sun was setting they arrived atop the cool windy mountain and made a brief stop to drink from their pouches and prepare for night when in a far valley they espied a light. The techie among them took out his own torch and flashed out a pattern, the darkness it scorched, the far light then blinked back a hurried response that the nerdy soldier translated at once: The foe is behind us and on our left side, we shan't on this mountain be able to hide, therefore to the source of that light we must speed – there await us friends with a some fresh ready steeds. They lit out and rushed to their comrades-in-arms who'd been holed up in an abandoned old farm, and finished escaping from possible hell each with his own harrowing story to tell.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥