Sep 5, 2005

Chapter 40

The Book of Wisdom for Eskimo

“The King is helping all the children in His lands. He is giving aid to Eskimo children and has instructed His servants, the Police, to proceed in this way. The traders are working with the Police to help you and your family. The King has instructed the traders and the Police to release goods to you only when necessary. He does not wish for you to become lazy and expect to receive goods at any time. You are to continue working hard…”

- The Book of Wisdom for Eskimo, 1947, sent by the Canadian Government to thousands of Inuit families. Reprint 1949.

Make sound. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

And the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children, and their children’s children, even unto the seventh generation.

That is why we sing the Redemption Song.
It calls us to go on
To go on and on
across the universe

Behold the chain of events that we must break.

(and not say sorry -----eee-e-eeeeeeeeee)


Thank you for your gracious invitation; I love having a power breakfast with people who smell of fresh gunpowder. Especially after waking up in a hotel and wondering what I am doing here. Must be a reason.

If I am Number Seven, and you are Number Two, who is Number One?

Oh well, for now, I’m getting a free breakfast. To facilitate communication I will borrow your vocabulary, as mine is in the shop. Pawn shop.

Special thanks to Curtis, for clearing up that little misunderstanding at the border. I should have been less truthful – they don’t want the WHOLE truth, they just want the little safe part.

Curtis says that he invited me because all of the real soldiers are dead or retired, and the rest of you are all enviro-lefty wishy-washy huggy-kissy multi-culti utopian eggheads.

Instead of making things go Ka-Boom, as the military should, you want to “…Establish and maintain consistent outreach with, and provide information to indigenous people ”. It says so in your “Arctic Roadmap”, after the sermon about how you are not going to tolerate global warming, but thank God it opens up the NorthWest Passage to freighter traffic and oil exploration. Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition.

So why are there no indigenous people in the room? You cannot simultaneously invite them in and keep them out, unless you are clinically bi-polar, if not indeed circumpolar. Provide information to them. But might you not also learn from them?

They are more familiar with the Arctic than you are, by a factor of 4,000 years. After all, they are indigenous. A visible minority with a visible font. My cohort never gets bold italic.

Throughout the Cold War, your intelligence agents provided you with incredibly detailed information about the Soviet Union –I met one CIA pencil pusher who did nothing but estimate how many cows the Soviets had. His entire career was devoted to counting Commie cows.

Other agents estimated the wheat crop, the cement production; how many jet fighters they could keep in the air - the CIA had thousands of analysts and translators who knew everything about the Soviet Union - except the most important thing of all: that it was on the verge of collapse. The CIA utterly failed to see it coming. Communism imploded because no one could possibly continue to have faith in it. Even the secret police were fed up. The heart did not believe. But that did not change the number of cows they had, so the CIA kept reporting that nothing had changed.

Need-to-believe is a thousand times more powerful than need-to-know. Try need-to-trust, need-to-belong, need-to-be-free. Man does not live by bread alone. Follow the marching orders I first heard from Olie Westheimer at the Brooklyn Parkinson’s Group:


It applies to everything.

Big expensive meetings about climate change in the Arctic, and the Inuit organisations are not invited? The Inuit say all you want them to be is “human flagpoles”.

Now, you are counting whales in Hudson’s Bay, from an airplane. You only see the ones that surface. So you pretend to count the ones you cannot see. The Inuit don’t have cows, so you count whatever you can find. Even when you can’t see what you are counting.

As with the Soviet Union, you will know every fact about the northern people, and yet know nothing about them at all.

This is not a good time, historically, to be alienating the Inuit. Old-time gambits such as the evacuation of Port Burwell are a big “No-No”. Not allowed any more. The damage to trust was immense. The Inuit, too, have geo-strategic interests, that are spoken of in whispers, not by the Inuit, but by your own political strategists who worry that the Inuit might handle it the way you would, with one-sided political power trips to gain benefit over everyone else. It’s not the way the Inuit traditionally think, but they have been observing your process, and they could easily copy your political tradition of pulling the blanket over to your side of the bed and letting whoever you are sleeping with get cold.

Passion overrules patience. The heart overrules the intellect. Love overrules fact.

But so does despair.

You want to game that tomorrow, in the war games? How about this: Greenland is drilling for oil; exaggerated reports predict that 50% of the world’s undiscovered oil is in the Arctic, and global warming, melting the ice, will give access to the oil, and in addition, thousands of freighters will seek access to the NorthWest Passage, as it will reduce the sea-route from Europe to Asia by 11,500 km.

Assume they strike oil in Nunavut. Portray several scenarios of what might happen then. Where the King told the traders and the Police how to handle his Eskimo children so they do not become lazy. What if they strike oil and they suddenly have the highest GNP per capita in the world? 30,000 people, in a territory twice the size of France; 85% Inuit; excluding Iqaluit, it’s more like 95% Inuit. Many speak Inuktitut only. Of the 30,000 people, half are too young to vote. About 8,000 votes make a majority. Imagine a determined Inuktitut-speaking leader promoting independence. An Inuk Rene Levesque. Then the Inuit could, as a humanitarian gesture, give you one-way tickets to the destination of your choice, provided the destination of your choice is well south of the tree line.

They might call you at 9 p.m. some bitterly cold night, in February when it is dark almost all the time, to tell you to spend the night packing because the chartered cargo planes will be landing on the ice at 6:00 a.m. to take you away from your ancestral home forever. How ‘ya like them apples?

And then they will mail you a copy of the Book of Wisdom for Pale Skins, telling you how stupid you are.

Run a simulation on that. And the next step would be union with Greenland, right? All Inuit. And then, circumpolar. The Inuit of Canada have been meeting with Inuit in Alaska, and in Russia; in addition to Greenland, and visiting the SAMI in Norway… Run another simulation on 30 possible outcomes of that.

The people who know exactly where the washrooms are because it’s always the same at McDonald’s are not in agreement with the people who say it is treeless in all directions and there are no road signs to follow on the sea ice.

The children of Cain are still excluding the children of Abel.

It’s the main reason you are holding these meetings, right? Along with Russia’s recent declaration that the Arctic is under their control? This meeting isn’t really all that much about the environment, is it? It isn’t all that much about joining together with the indigenous people, is it?

You know, if Franklin had joined together with the Inuit, Britain would still be the leading power of the Arctic. The brilliance and strength of the British Empire combined with the Inuit ability to live in the Arctic would have been one of the great alliances of history. Such a great opportunity, lost to arrogance and cultural blindness.

From the Franklin Expedition, to the Book of Wisdom for Eskimo, to the expulsion of the people of Killiniq Island, it’s a direct line, a rather perfect demonstration of the wrong way to make history happen.

And this re-enactment of the story of Cain and Abel is taking place, ominously, in the Land God Gave to Cain. It’s been 12,000 years since Cain put up that fence. \The hour is getting late./

The fleet is in and the gang’s all here:

Every department of government has its own in-house intelligence group. The CIA informs on a need-to-know basis, but what you really need-to-know is who the hell is restricting your need-to-know. Usually some idiot decides he needs to know everything and you need to know nothing. Someone told them “Information is power” but it is not. Power is power.

So every department sets up its own mini-CIA because the original CIA has no intention whatsoever of keeping them in the loop.

National System for Geospatial Intelligence
(What the hell do they do? Geospatial Intelligence. The name says it is something you would never understand.)

U.S. Arctic Research Commission
(Sounds legit. But then again maybe not. Why does it look like a camembert?)

Office of Naval Intelligence
Scary people. They really don’t want you around, and they expect the same. Pretend you don’t speak English. Pretend you have a contagious disease. Pretend you have a licence to kill. Pretend you have concealed carry. Pretend you have to go urgently to the bathroom – pretend anything, but do NOT let them put those computer chips in your head.

(Open the pod bay doors, HAL.

I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that. Although you took very thorough precautions in the pod against my hearing you, I could see your lips move. This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.

I don't know what you're talking about, HAL.

I know that you and Frank were planning to disconnect me, and I'm afraid that's something I cannot allow to happen. Dave, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Just what do you think you're doing, Dave? I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I'm half crazy all for the love of you.) 2001

National Ice Center
Where would we be without them?
(All they do with ice is put it in their drinks)

Arctic Submarine Lab
(“Cold, Wet, and Clean”)

Remote controlled unmanned submarines are being tested near Killiniq. The prototype robotic mini-subs have a range of 400 km, submerged under the ice. The above photo is not necessarily what they look like; nor are they winged torpedoes, although they could be, or not. (Classified every which way; you know nothin’ about this – you unnerstand? And whatever you heard it wuz not from me, you unnerstand? Now no piktures or I swear I’m gonna bust yer cell phone.)

Naval Meteorolgy and Oceanography Command
(So it turns out you actually do need a weatherman to say which way the wind blows.)

Just like joining the Rotary Club. They love repentent sinners as much as the next guy.

It is so cool to add “Strategic” to your title. Or “Counter-Intelligence”. It gives you instant credibility.

Sensing great opportunity, I put aside my business cards from the Parkinson’s Underground Internet Conspiracy and handed out these new ones:

Bob Dawson
Global Strategic Counter-Intelligence Agency
Department of Tactical Metaphysics and Applied Historicity
Arctic Command

I like the sound of it.
“Good morning. Strategic Counter-Intel. How may I direct your call? I’m sorry, Mr. Dawson is in meetings in Ulan Bator all day; would you like to send him a 3D Hologram through his private global darknet?”

Yeah, I like it. That’s the real me, right there.

Should change my name, though. Too ordinary.

You will all call me “the man known as Intrepid”. I want one of those hats like James Cagney, and cigars, and a case of Jack Daniels. There has to be a helicopter waiting on the roof at all times, with the engine running. And we won’t tell ANYBODY all the cool spy stuff that we do. It’ll be our own secret and people will wonder where we came from, and why. We will send reports to Congress with every word blacked out except the word “the”. In a separate letter, we will demand an increased budget to deal with increased threats that are so secret we cannot even hint at what is involved.

I know that’s how all of you do it, and by what I see in the parking lot, it pays well.

Here is something you need-to-know:
The Inuit, the Innu, and the Cree, think that you are funny.

They think you are strange. They think you are nuts. Whenever they think about you, they just have to laugh. And they imitate how you walk, and the sounds you make, and your incomprehensible philosophy of life, and they laugh some more.

You created this document called “Arctic Roadmap”
And you presented it to people who have no roads.

Yes, yes, you meant “roadmap” as “plan”. It’s no big deal. But still…

You follow the road signs and take Exit 55 where there is a McDonald’s. You already know exactly where the washrooms are located, and exactly what is on the menu; and exactly what it will taste like.

When you tell the Inuit that that there is only one path from A to B, they laugh at you. It is treeless in all directions. Its normal state is frozen. There is no path at all. So you have to make one, not knowing where you will end up. Not knowing if you will come back the same way. Or come back this way at all.

In 1534, Indians wanted to throw spears at the invading French, but when Jacques Cartier stood there on the beach surrounded by his sea-sick sailors, ravaged by scurvy, completely confused, looking like puppets in their military uniforms, frantically swatting mosquitoes and black flies, and Cartier made a pompous and flatulent speech, claiming all of Canada for France and for the King and for the Pope and for God, and then he raised the flag of France which hung limply in the humid air, the native warriors could not throw their spears because they were rolling on the ground laughing.

These are four elementary-level imperatives for your roadless Arctic roadmap:

(1) DO NOT repeat the Franklin Expedition, in spirit or in time and/or in space; (Video suppressed by hard-core up-against-the-wall Royalists and Charles Dickens’ fans)

(2) DO NOT add new chapters to the Book of Wisdom for Eskimo;

(3) DO NOT, when entering an Inuit village for the first time, go around making yourself the centre of attention, glad-handing the elders while carrying a briefcase containing “too much money”;

(4) DO NOT forget that everything is funny, unless specifically proven otherwise. And what is especially funny? You. And the way you see the world. And what makes you call some things rotten and some things fresh, without even knowing either one.
Innu of Natashkuan, north of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, actually do have a road now, but they would laugh at your roadmap as well. Everything is funny. Because life is good. And everybody takes everything too seriously. According to the Inuit and the Innu. After all of what they have been through, their laughter is power. They set a good example to us all. That’s where we need them most.

3 SHORT VIDEOS that you will watch if you know what is good for you.

The first two are short scenes we ripped from the movie “Qallunaat – Why White People are Funny

Just as I am the Founding President of the Parkinson’s Underground Internet Conspiracy; which is partly a joke and partly very, very serious; Zebedee Nungak is Founding President of the Qallunaat Studies Institute, where Inuit study the strange behaviour of white people – this is partly a joke, partly very very serious.

And along came Mark Sandiford who wrote and directed the film, together with Zebedee Nungak.

Produced by Beachwalker Films, with backing from the National Film Board.

The third video below is an example of the subversive presence of Wapikoni Mobile, culture warriors going from Rez. to Rez. with filming equipment, and saying, Anybody want to make a video? (And NFB supported this one too! Am I a carpet-bagger, or what?)

Book of Wisdom for Eskimo

Philipoosie Kunilusie imitates the arrival of the latest government official.

Innu laughing


Beachwalker Films

The complete text of the Book of Wisdom for Eskimo can be found here.

National Film Board of Canada

Wapikoni Mobile

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