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“We would go to boarding schools and do seminar classes prior to the show,” Kolb recalled.
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In an interview with Bandcamp writer Brad Sanders, Winterhawk’s original drummer Alfonso Kolb spoke fondly of the shows that made the band worthwhile: with enough smooth-talking, the band was able to play for Native youth in boarding schools around the country. Though their lifespan was short and they never attained mainstream success, they managed to tour with an eclectic variety of artists, such as Tina Turner, Santana, Mötley Crüe and even an up-and-coming band called Metallica in 1980. Fronted by outspoken Cree activist Nik Alexander, the group lasted long enough to record two albums before calling it quits in the mid-1980s. Speaking of desecrating Custer, in Southern California circa 1978 a group of young Native American musicians revved up on rock ‘n’ roll and Indigenous liberation formed a band called Winterhawk. Whether through art, writing or music, we take notes in the underground, studying the maps of bordertowns in order to burn them down.
#Fear and loathing in las vegas let me hear how to#
Indigenous folks know how to confront those borders because we’ve studied them – sometimes by choice, sometimes by force – ever since they were put up to keep us corralled into reservations. Sometimes you encounter an artist whose work bends and breaks the borders of genres, to remind you that another world is possible – in print and in life. Thompson’s “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.”Īll of which is to say: sometimes you encounter an artist whose words cause you to shed the world, letting your heart grow larger. Similar to Monkman, Jones’ debut novel, “The Fast Red Road: A Plainsong,” playfully zigzags around different genres throughout its sprawling story, which reads like Cormac McCarthy’s “Blood Meridian” meets Hunter S. But it feels unfair to only see him as a horror writer. The prolific Blackfeet writer knows how to craft top-notch horror stories, and after years of pen-to-paper devotion, he’s receiving righteous recognition for his Indigenous-centered horror novels. The same sense of subversive joy electrifies me when I read the writing of Stephen Graham Jones, who recently spoke at Fort Lewis College. Gracefully walking through this chaotic orgy is Monkman’s alter ego, Miss Chief Eagle Testickle – a holy, halo-smashing being of Indigenous pride that celebrates the nonbinary, the fluid an unrepentant middle finger to the borders and dogmas of the Western world.
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And more importantly, this playful scene is one of many from Cree artist Kent Monkman’s painting “The Triumph of Mischief,” which is a sprawling portrait of Indigenous people taunting, torturing and teasing colonizers with the help of enchanting, magical creatures.
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The flowers could be liatris, but Custer’s not around anymore to ask. Maybe I’m too optimistic, but in the painting it looks like he’s enjoying the flora-infused traffic jam behind him. Or at least I like to think the blond mustachioed white man on all fours is Custer. I’m staring at an illustration of an Indigenous person joyfully ramming long-stemmed flowers up General Custer’s butt.