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For some reason it seems sad around here. It probably has to do with the dis-glorification of my not-so-illustrious ancestors, and how little I know about them in order to come to their defense. I'm watching a TV documentary featuring this Harvard professor named Gates who does ancestry research.
He apparently has two programs that PBS simultaneously runs one after the other continuously (like all the other programs PBS runs and reruns redundantly). One of the two programs features the use of DNA research of a person's ancestry, and the other seems aimed at the recovery of the information of direct historical significance through available public records and private documents like personal letters.
The DNA research done by this professor (who graciously reveals that his own research about himself shows that he's at least half-white) also features other races besides blacks. People like the noted actress Meryl Streep. But, the research for his other TV program is done by rambling through old court house and census records by professional, academically trained researchers, is all about black history. The reactions of the famous and noteworthy blacks he does this research for are basis of his TV program. They seem genuinely moved and sometime emotionally shocked by what his research reveals about their ancestors.
These black stars like Morgan Freeman and Tina Turner seem to wonder why they never knew these things about their family background. It's not so strange to me. I don't know those kinds of things about my own familial ancestors. I speculate not many people do. It seems to take a special kind of drive or interest plus a gritty determination to wade through all the documentation to do the roots search. If Doctor Gates chose me as a subject for his program and showed me the literal documents or verified photos he comes up with for his featured clients, I'd be just as fascinated as the recipients of his research appear to be.
That's not gonna happen. The research Gates does to make the point of his TV show is that practically all the research on the black people on his show go back to slavery, and my ancestors were the slave-holders, and some right prideful sons of bitches at that. We lost the war. Only the victors hold war crime trials.
The show I saw this morning happened because I turned the TV on to catch the weather while I reviewed the contents of my e-mail Inbox. There was no content in my Inbox except for this crazy guy who tries to make silk purses out of sow's ears. The other crazy people who insists their designs of silk purses are mo' bettah than his apparently haven't been let out of their cages yet.
So, instead of answering non-existent e-mail I started watching this genealogy program and witnessing my ancestors being demonized (probably rightfully so in the moral sense of other cultures/victims). One of this guy's points was a major part of the slavery his ancestors experienced was that it forced them to move around from owner to owner with no official recognition of their personal relationships, and they had no sense of history or permanence.
Watching his program caused me to realize I was sort of in the same predicament when it came to feeling as though I didn't have my own place in the world. My natal family moved incessantly when I was a kid. So was the boll weevil. All God's chilluns got shoes, and those shoes were made for walking, but for walking while looking for a ho-me. Forty acres and a mule could give a man roots.
One of the guys they researched resulted in an apparently little known or publicized, but recorded for all time facts. Practically all the Native American Indian tribes kept slaves. Black slaves. Black slaves that didn't get freed by the Emancipation Act because it didn't apply to Indian tribes protected by treaty and reservations. They still don't.
Chickasaw Indians owned this guy's black ancestors as slaves and they kept them as slaves on into the twentieth century because they had sovereignty to do it. Just like they have the sovereignty to open and run gambling casinos.
This makes sense to me in an odd sort of way. Slavery during this period of time was legal over most of the entire face of the Earth, and not just with my agrarian, Jim Crow ancestors. Slavery is still legal or at least tolerated in many places in the world or so I understand. I ain't researching that to find out. My individual understanding or opinionated conclusions about large social movements is minuscule at best, and I am is apparently intends to keep it that way.
I'm merely wondering if the War Between The States was a world-wide effort to stem the tide of slavery everywhere. Like, for example, as a procedural step of evolution in general. Maybe like what happened that brought about apartheid and eventual freedom in South Africa in a way. People have to refuse to be slaves or it just goes on and on.
It doesn't seem to stop on it's own. That's practically stating a claim that slavery is a spiritual entity with it's own docetic hierarchy. I had to stop myself from using my Southern upbringing to enslave my ex-wives and children. The marriage contract itself practically guaranteed my eventual behavior as my parent's child. I can't be in a marital relationship without that person ruling the roost.
The fact that what I was raised as a child to become such an adult is an abomination and an insult to God as exemplified by this rude saying in the Gospel of Thomas:
55 Jesus said, "Whoever does not hate father and mother cannot be my disciple, and whoever does not hate brothers and sisters, and carry the cross as I do, will not be worthy of me."
http://users.misericordia.edu//davies/thomas/Trans.htm
It was having to abandon the persona my parents would be pleased to claim that drove me to commit myself to the insane asylum to find out for myself if I was crazy or not. To be the docetic Christ's disciple that inveigled it's way into my body and my life I had to form my own persona around that wot hated it's mother and father. In effect, I had to crucify the person their parental decisions were designed to shape me into, which was definitely not my own idea of myself. I'm pissed off at God for forcing me to decide for-myself instead of Him..
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I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
