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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
So I've just been thinking about things and how we humans think where so smart when where really so dumb. I have said a few of these things before in other topics but thought they deserved a topic of there own.

Where so advanced right we have all our nice things and nothing else on earth can compare. We'll have you ever thought that off every living thing on this planet we are the only things that destroy the earth itself, we are the only things that destroy what keeps us all living. We polute the air, tear everything up, well this explains it....

ONE DAY AS I SAT HIGH IN THE HILLS
ALL WAS SO QUIET AND PEACEFUL AND STILL.

I WAS VIEWING THE BEAUTY WE ALL LOVE SO DEAR.
I KNEW I WAS ALL ALONE-AND YET I FELT SOMEONE NEAR.

THE CRYSTAL-CLEAR BROOK IN THE GORGE FAR BELOW -
IT GLISTENED AND SPARKLED LIKE NEW FALLEN SNOW.
IT WOUND ITS WAY QUIETLY - NOT A SOUND COULD YOU HEAR,
AND YET IT GAVE RELIEF TO THE THIRST OF THE ELK AND THE DEER.

WHEN SUDDENLY THE SILENCE WAS BROKEN BY A SCREAM FAR ABOVE
A BLUE JAY WAS PROCLAIMING HIS HAPPINESS AND LOVE.
HIS WAY OF GIVING THANKS FOR THE TIME THAT HE'D SPENT
IN THIS WONDERFUL PLACE WHERE ALL WAS CONTENT.
HIS SHRILL VOICE ECHOED IN THE LEDGES BELOW
IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL SOUND, FOR GOD MADE IT SO.

THEN MY EYES WANDERED IN THE HILLS FAR BELOW,
AND I SAW MEN COMING SURELY BUT SLOW.
THEY'RE BUILDING ROADS FOR THE EAST TO MEAT THE WEST
AND I SUPPOSED THEY WERE DOING WHAT THEY THOUGHT BEST.
BUT THEY TEAR UP THE EARTH AND THEY CUT DOWN THE TREES,
AND GROPE FOR A WAY TO EVEN CHANGE THE BREEZE,
THAT FANS THE BOUGHS OF THESE OLD STATELY PINES
IN THIS BEAUTIFUL LAND OF YOURS AND MINE.

I FELT A FEELING OF SHAME AND MY FAITH IN MAN DID BEND,
AND SOMEHOW I WONDERED JUST WHERE WILL ALL THIS END.
WHEN GOD MADE THIS EARTH HE SAW IT AS GOOD -
WE'RE CHANGING THE APPEARANCE - I WONDER IF WE SHOULD.

WE CALL IT PROGRESSION, BUT IF I MAY VENTURE A GUESS,
THERE'S TOO MANY HIGHWAYS BRINGING DEATH AND DISTRESS.
WE'RE TAXED TO THE LIMIT FOR ALL THAT WE'VE GOT,
AND THEN WE BUILD HIGHWAYS MORE DEADLY THAN A SHOT.
 

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How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? That idea is
strange to us.
If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water,
how can you buy them?

Every part of this earth is sacred to my people.
Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark
woods, every clearing and humming insect is holy in the memory and
experience of my people.
The sap which courses through the trees carries the memory of the red man.

The white man's dead forget the country of their birth when they go to
walk among the stars. Our dead never forget this beautiful earth, for it
is the mother of the red man.
We are part of the earth and it is part of us.

The perfumed flowers are our sisters, the deer, the horse, the great
eagle, these are our brothers.
The rocky crests, the juices in the meadows, the body heat of the pony,
and man - all belong to the same family.

So, when the Great Chief in Washington sends word that he wishes to
buy our land, he asks much of us. The Great Chief sends word he will
reserve us a place so that we can live comfortably to ourselves.
He will be our father and we will be his children. So we will consider
your offer to buy our land.
But it will not be easy. For this land is sacred to us.

This shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water
but the blood of our ancestors.

If we sell you land, you must remember that it is sacred, and you must
teach your children that it is sacred and that the ghostly reflection in
the clear water of the lakes tells us events and memories in the life of
my people.
The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father.
The rivers are our brothers, they quench our thirst. The rivers carry our
cannoes, feed our children. If we sell our land, you must learn, and teach
your children, that the rivers are our brothers, and yours, and you must
henceforth give the rivers the kindness you would give any brother.

We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of
the land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in
the night and takes from the land whatever he needs.
The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when he has conquered it,
he moves on.
He leaves his father's grave behind, and he does not care. He kidnaps the
earth from his children, and he does not care.
His father's grave and his children's birthright are forgotten.
He treats his mother, the earth, and his brother, the sky, as things to be
bought, plundered, sold like sheep or bright beads.
His appetite will devour the earth and leave behind only a desert.
I do not know. Our ways are different than yours.

The sight of your cities pains the eyes of the red man. But perhaps
because the red man is a savage and does not understand.
There is no quiet place in the white man's cities. No place to hear the
unfurling leaves in spring, or the rustle of an insects wings.
But perhaps it is because I am a savage and do not understand.

The clatter only seems to insult the ears. And what is there to life if
man cannot hear the lonely cry of the whippoorwill or the arguments of the
frogs around a pond at night ? I am red man and do not understand.

The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind darting over the face of a
pond, and the smell of the wind itself, cleaned by a mid-day rain, or
scented by the pinon pine.

The air is precious to the red man, for all things share the same breath -
the beast, the tree, the man, they all share the same breath.
The white man does not seem to notice the air he breaths. Like a man dying
for many days is numb to the stench.

But if we sell you our land, you must remember that the air is precious to
us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports.
The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath
also receives his last sigh.

And if we sell you our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a
place where even the white man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened
by the meadows flowers.
So we will consider your offer to buy our land. If we decide to accept,
I'll make one condition, the white man must treat the beasts of this land
as his brothers.
I am a savage and I do not understand any other way.

I have seen a thousand rotting buffaloes on the prairie, left by the white
man who shot them from a passing train.
I am a savage and I do not understand how the smoking iron horse can be
more important than the buffalo that we kill only to stay alive.

What is man without the beasts ? If all the beasts were gone, man would
die from a great loneliness of spirit.
For whatever happens to the beasts, soon happens to man. All things are
connected.

You must teach the children that the ground beneath their feet is the
ashes of your grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your
children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin.
Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the earth is
our mother.
Whatever befalls the earth, befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit
upon the ground, they spit upon themselves.

This we know, the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth.
This we know.
All things are connected like the blood which unites one family. All things
are connected.
Whatever befalls the earth, befalls the sons of the earth. Man did not
weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to
the web, he does to himself.

Even the white man, whose God walks and talks with him as friend to
friend, cannot be exempt from the common destiny.
We may be brothers after all.
We shall see.
One thing we know, which the white man may discover one day - our God is
the same God.
You may think you know that you own Him as you wish to own our land, but you
cannot. He is the God of man, and His compassion is equal for the red man
and the white.
This earth is precious to him, and to harm the earth is to heap contempt
on its Creator.

The whites too shall pass, perhaps sooner than all other tribes.
Contaminate your bed, and you will one night suffocate in your own waste.
But in your perishing you will shine brightly, fired by the strength of
the God who brought you to this land and for some special purpose gave you
dominion over this land and over the red man.
That destiny is a mystery to us, for we do not understand when the buffalo
are all slaughtered, the wild horses are tamed, the secret corners of the
forest heavy with the scent of many men, and the view of the ripe hills
blotted by talking wires.
Where is the thicket ? Gone.
Where is the eagle ? Gone.
The end of living and beginning of survival.

-- Chief Sealth (Seattle)
 

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This is the most ridiculous post I've ever seen. I can't believe I'm reading this crap. I love the outdoors, but this whole thread is just full of flaws and half-truths!
 

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May have been true 100 years ago, but what did the res look like last time you drove through it? Not exactly post card material.
 

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Discussion Starter · #6 ·
Hey, I didn't say anything this time.
 

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Let me divulge a little bit of what I mean. There are currently 303,248,442 people in this country. We have a total of 2,263,952,000 acres of landmass. That means that if each person were to get an equal share of land, we would all get just under 7.5 acres to live on, which really isn't all that much. Plus, how the hell would we decide who gets 7.5 acres of prime forest, who gets 7.5 acres of beach front property, and who gets screwed with 7.5 acres in the Nevada desert? We need cities; we need people to be crammed together. Plus, if you take into consideration that a huge chunk of our land mass is owned by a very small number of private entities, it becomes even more critical to have cities. Hell, Ted Turner literally owns half of Montana himself!!! So this antiquated and utopian idea that progress has done nothing but destroy the outdoors is just ludicrous. Case in point: in 1920, we had 735 million acres of forest. Now, we have 749 million acres of forestland. That's nearly a 2% increase the last 80 years. Certainly, progress has its downside, but it's not this overwhelmingly catastrophic destroyer of nature. And, I'm getting really freaking sick of this notion that every negative environmental impact is directly caused by big bad ******. The only reason we changed the land more quickly and more substantially than the Native Americans was because we had the manpower and technology to do it. I don't buy into this one with nature crap. The natives didn't seem to mind the technological advances that came with horses, guns, and steel. All provided by ******. And I'm not saying that the natives, nor any other race for that matter, where incapable of inventing and discovering what the whites did. It's just that the Europeans were centrally located and were thus able to learn from a variety of sources. For example, they got their math from the Egyptians and Arabs, they learned cooking and preservation techniques from India, they got gunpowder from China, etc. But, they also had non-stop warfare and war has been and still is the great catalyst for discovery and invention and thus circumstance catapulted the whiteass Europeans ahead and they beat everyone else to the punch. That's it. The environmental issues that we are globally facing are not a white problem, they are not a Native American problem, or a black problem, or an Asian problem, or a Hispanic or Polynesian problem. They are a problem for only one race, and that is the human race. Plus I'm real sure that you'd be super pissed off to have all this technology and progression around if say (and God forbid) your wife or child were to get seriously ill. Suddenly, it might be nice to have an MRI and a ton of other fancy medical gadgets and medicines available wouldn't it?

So let's just nip this whole thing in the bud and say it would be sweet to have an endless source of wilderness available to us all, but as we don't, we shouldn't be laying blame to big bad ****** and his all-destroying progress. Instead, we should concentrate on effective management of what we have as well as determine comprehensive solutions that allow such wilderness to be enjoyed by all.

And that's my 2 cents. Or maybe two dollars, it was kind of long winded.
 
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