Libretto
Sunny Killdeer
Oh come to sunny Killdeer
Where prairie meets the sky
‘Neath the gorgeous Killdeer Mountains
Where wild turkeys fly
Fishing walleye in Lake Ilo
Feel the rodeo cowboy’s pride
On the shores of Lake Sakakawea
The revelers bask in the glow
But wait! Is that the sunset?
Or flames from the hell below?
The Sioux and Heavenly Father
Are the only ones who know
Oh the streams that we swam in
Flow back with a foamy brine
And the buttes where the children run and hide?
Are spoiled with hydrogen and sulfide!
And the surface spills from the oils drills
Fill our aquifers with chemi-kills
And the biocides fill our eyes with tears
And the natural gas kills the atmospheres
While the mancamps offer great careers
For STDs and billionaires
Now Oklahoma’s on the Richter scale
From the booming boom for Bakken shale
While oil tanks explode by truck and rail
It’s another viral human epic fail
Thank God you can’t hear yourself think
Past the squalor, waste, smoke, noise and stink
Oh come to North Dakota
And look upon our wounds
The saddest prairie stewards
Sending Killdeer to its doom
The Sioux called it “Tah-Kah-O-Kuty”
We killed them, we needed more room
And now we are killing dear Killdeer
It is sent to it’s doom by a boom
Bakken Business
You’ve heard of the man Henry Bakken
A farmer in Tioga, North Dakota
It was on his land, sleeping ‘neath the sand
Oil reaching north to Manitoba
They named it the Bakken Formation
Spreading under four states in two nations
The oil, mature in gestation
Yet so far from the towns’ service station
Drill down to the Dolomite
Then take a sharp left with the big rig
Next, take it easy on the dynamite
Let hydraulics do the work on this big dig
Liquid takes the propping agents down
Into the shale under pressure
The earth cracks open, the props prop the cracks
And it makes a lovely fracturing fissure
Natural gas escapes in the hole
And climbs up the well into day
Not all the volume can be contained
So they burn a third away
The oil, too, exceeds capacity
Of pipes carrying crude to the markets
Sure, eighteen-wheelers with effed up tanks
Aren’t safe but drive the profits!
The trucks need fuel, as do the drills
We burn half the fuel we’re extracting
But Bakken business trades in future lives
We’ll be dead before our children start acting
Regulations run the civilized world
With fracking laws in place to protect y’all
But North Dakota’s Halliburton rules
Make frack a freaking freak free for all
Crime is at an all-time high
Unemployment at an all-time low-whoa-whoa
With jobs in service and jobs in sales
Blow me, blow you, buy blow
Kickbacks keep the legislature
Super funding slick toxic dumping
The pimps and hookers work overtime
To keep the oil men pumping
There’s just one rule in oil-town
This wild western home on the range
Do what you want to, take what you will
But never mention climate change
Never mention climate change
Interview – The Train Engineer
Before we proceed with credentials
Let’s address what must be your concerns
Our trains have a way of exploding
Our man prior died covered in burns
But please be assured we are taking the steps
To insure better safety for all
And just to be fair, in Lac-Megantic,
Half the downtown in still standing tall
We ship crude from here to New Brunswick
It’s safer to pipe underground
Except for the underground earthquakes
Caused by fracking, I know how this sounds
But if you are here to make money
Not some tree-hugger hoping to end it
We’ll pay you in spades, if you know what I mean
And we’ll help you find fun ways to spend it
The Frakking Fluids’ Daughter’s Dance
They said when they’d extracted
The oil from the shale
The propponts in the fluid
Were harmless – what a tale!
In fact the fracking fluid
Is toxic as a snake
And the blow back from the flow back
Is as bad as Yellow Cake!
The gel-based liquids have an edge
Said Zuber in the eighties
With polymers and surfactants
Hear this, my gents and ladies!
Butoxyethonal and biocides with foam have hopes
Of carrying with it radiated tracer isotopes
Hydrochloric acid will put you in the clinic
With radioactive half-lives and a BTEX carcinogenic
It leaches into wellsprings and into reservoirs
They recommend before you drink it to say your “au revoirs”
And that’s not even mentioning
The props slick-waters carry
Permittiveness and mesh size
Interstitial space may vary
They’re made of treated sand,
Sintered bauxite or ceramics
And they’re shaking the mid-continent
With earthquakes and semantics
Slick-water’s not for drinking
I can hear the barman snicker
With all our ground water full of salt
The safest drink is liquor
Interview – The Truck Driver
So you’re here for a job as a truck driver
This must be you’re lucky day
Most guys will tell you it’s men’s work
Me? I’ll hire a female or gay
Just as long as you take care of business
And can handle the stress of the load
It don’t matter to me who’s behind the wheel
In a blizzard with ice on the road
You’ll be pumping the waste from the holding tanks
Into the tank on your rig
Then driving it to the disposal wells…
You sure you still want this gig?
The fumes from the tank can be deadly
You will puke for week within hours
The hydrogen sulfide is lethal
If the tank isn’t cleaned right and sours
Most of the truckers wear sensors
And gas masks help not getting sick
With a mask and your fire proof jump-suit
The guys might not know you’re a chick
It is foul, murky work, you still want it?
Yeah, I figured – a mortgage, two kids…
Unemployment ran off with your husband
So it’s Bakken or back on the skids
Ocean Breezes
The ocean breezes fan the plains
Salty Gulf Stream zephyrs
A strange perfume from distant seas
Mixed with the smell of heifers
The plains are land-locked o’er the Bakken
Water here is scarce
They pump the fresh to do the frackin’
And drink the brackish arse
The Bakken beckons, “bang for buck,”
We all know it’s perversion
But greed makes even good men suck
The lifeblood from their children
It makes no sense, this self-destruction
It challenges acumen
They must place blame, they beg for unction
It’s all so fracking human
Interview – Climate Change Denier
Thank you for coming, a climate change expert,
As you know, plays a critical role
In clearing our conscience and raising moral
As we dig ourselves into this hole
The guys need more rationalizations
To keep them from feeling like asses
Even red states can start feeling blue
Just because we produce green house gasses
We’re not doing anything wrong here
The world has a need and we fill it
We’re just folks putting food on the table
You have gas in your car ’cause we drill it
You have no right to judge, it’s good money
P.S. we didn’t cause the recession
And if saving the whales paid the mortgage
We wouldn’t need your profession
Global warming’s a snow job, agree?
You will need some kind of degree
Your resume says you’re a doctor, that’s good
In the field of…podiatry
Don’t worry, it’s fine, it’s all about spin
Tell them they’re saving the planet
We’ll start fresh with clean energy sources
Once we drink through the liquor cabinet
So the sooner we burn up the oil
The sooner we’re on the right track
Let’s just hope that the ocean won’t boil
While we hit rock bottom and frack
The Medicine Hole
Have you heard of the mysterious Medicine Hole
It’s a cave in the Killdeers and a legend of old
Where the Sioux got theirs in 1864
For scalping the settlers, time to settle the score
General Sully brought his army and artillery
And routed the Sioux till they started to flee
But some disappeared near the top of the peak
Then emerged miles west at the end of the week
The white man was afraid of the cave
And filled the hole with rocks to make himself brave
Then the bravest of the braves put some dynamite in
And blew it back open and felt a strong wind
“The earth is your mother,” the message came through
“You have nothing to fear…if you’re a Sioux!”
Seismicity City
In Youngstown, Ohio
Some youths felt the earth move
At a New Year’s Eve celebration
These 4.0 students
Felt 4.0 tremors
Like those left leaning parts of the nation
Their land before fracking
Was stable and settled by
God fearing Quakers, movers not shakers
They prayed that earth would
Receive their kindness
Now all pray for history’s blindness
The underground damage to oil pipes and gas lines
Won’t leave us with greasy sea birds
Seals with their doe eyes pleading
Save us from drowning in your sleaze
We are hiding our secret Valdez
And pretending the human race is not a disease
Wankan-Tanka, forgive our sins
With the understanding we have no intention
Of quitting killing and drilling, fulfilling our need
Guilt and money are just so yummy, come and seal our deal with a handshake
Oh, Great Spirit, dispense your penance
We have sealed our fate with an earthquake to pay for our greed
Libretto
1.) INTRODUCTION
‘Cross the hot and dusty plain
Rolls the Donner wagon train
Immigrant families headed for Cali
over the rockies and into the Valley
Wealthy farmers – Illinois
Not your average hoi pollois
They could afford all the comforts of home
Fold out tables, memory foam
Flatware, stoneware, the old violin
Heirlooms, perfumes, gramp’s accordion
Land yacht, 5 speed oxen power
The Santa Maria, the new Mayflower
Ample food stores, beef and jerky
Midwest farmers, talkin turkey
They’d made it good in their new nation
This wasn’t their Daddy’s immigration
Back then it was famine or unfair taxation
The hope of the new world was representation
Religious freedom, no aristocracy
World-wide welcome, full throated democracy
So why does the middle class up and go?
Road trip, maybe? Tired of snow?
A better life, The American dream
1840’s airstream meme?
2.) WHEN COLONISTS MOVED TO THE WEST – Donner Party
When colonists moved to the west
WIth courage strong they met the test
They drove their oxen all day long
And as they drove, they sang this song
For we are blessed with God’s good grace
We have the lead in this fair race
We’ll build our roads then charge a toll
‘Cause that’s just how our wagons roll
They met with hardship now and then
Encounters with the Indian
They’d shoot ‘em up and carry on
And as they’d shoot they’d sing this song
For God has given us this land
We kill because it’s his command
In His good name we tell our lies
Appropriate and monetize
So we are free, our conscious clear
As are all whites that are not queer
The rest of you do not belong
And if you doubt us, hear our song!
For some are white and some are not
And some are free and some are bought
It’s she, her, hers and he, him, his
And that is just the way it is
Now you may think that I’m not kind
Not true, in fact, I’m color blind!
As long as you stay off my lawn
And follow the precepts of my song!
If you are good and earn my trust
Do not talk back, rebel or cuss
Then we are good, I got your back
Your wife and kids and gunnysack
Does this mindset sound a little dated?
Yet vaguely familiar and still related?
Our singspiel begins (that’s german for “sing-play”)
Please sing along we are off off off broadway!
3.) DIVERSE & PARTY: NARRATOR
The Donner party was pretty diverse
Upper class, lower class, middle class purse
German, Irish, none with the curse
Frenchman, Anglican, lock step verse
On the 12th of May, eighteen forty six
The Donners and Reeds put their names in the mix
Along with the Fosters, Breens and Graves
For a mass migration through the land of the braves
500 hundred wagons, an immigrant caravan
To the Mexican border, that was the master plan
The D’s started late, just a few weeks tardy
They were last in line, but the Donner’s were hardy
And when the work was finally done
You’ve got to see these Donner’s PARTY!
4.) WHO THREW THE OVERALLS: Donner party
Oh, who threw the overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s chowder
Nobody spoke so he shouted all the louder
It’s an Irish trick that’s true
I can lick the mick the threw
The overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s chowder
So we dragged the pants from out the soup and laid them on the floor
Each man swore upon his breast he’d ne’er seen them before
They were plastered up with mortar and were worn out at the knee
They’d had their many ups and downs and we could plainly see
When Mrs. Murphy she came to she took a look herself
She threw them back into the pot adding spices from the shelf
George Donner he excused himself and took a little sip
It tasted like foreshadowing of their yet and epic trip
Oh, who threw the overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s chowder
Nobody spoke so he shouted all the louder
It’s an Irish trick that’s true
I can lick the mick the threw
The overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s chowder
5.) MANFEST PART 1
Then after the women and children retired
The menfolk would gather around the fire
Keseberg would dig up the cache of home brew
And they’d talk for a spell and spit and chew
Something about this trip just felt so…right
God in in his heavens, man in his might
Virgin territory, no humans in sight
I mean, there were natives, but they weren’t white
Then Manny took out his mandolin
And plucked while the others said…“Amen”
And they talked about mansions, manors, mantitlements
Mankind’s man caves, and manly manvironments
These are the men in manifest destiny
They have the strength and superior weaponry
It is a no brainer – colonize, populate
Manhandle, maneuver, man-up, penetrate
It’s their call of duty, their Noblesse oblige,
Oh the weight of power and privilege…Puh-leeze!
Where much is given, more can be taken
I’ll have my martini stirred, not shaken
They never asked why they were superior
They just had this feeling y’all were inferior
Dominion was part of their god given mandate
And a man needs some land in order to populate
They said their prayers, they towed the line
They loved their neighbor and their own bloodline
Their hearts were pure, their horses strong
What could possibly go wrong?
6.) DONNERS ARE TRAILING: NARRATOR
It was middle of June when they got to Wyoming
Where the antelope play with the Buffalo roaming
They could have stopped there, it was pretty uncluttered
Homesteading was free, gold was not yet discovered
_____
At this point in the trek things were technically fine
Healthy humans and livestock and all things bovine
It had been by most measurements super smooth sailing
But compared to the others, the Donner’s were trailing
Other immigrant trains were just days from Fort Hall
The deadline was winter – both the writing and wall
On July 28th they reached Fort Bridger
Their days disappearing like beers in the fridger
They’d started late and weren’t making good time
With August approaching, they heard the bell chime
The Donner’s agreed they were in a pickle
Then they met a man with a wooden nickel
The man Lansford Hastings was pitching a plan
That would save time and effort, down to the man
There were lively discussions
About repercussions
Tamsen Donner said no, yes said the man
Hasting’s cut-off would save them some time
But two wooden nickels don’t equal a dime
He lied to the Donners
Did he know they were goners?
As of yet, his advice was a victimless crime
7.) CON MAN’S MAP – Tamsen Donner
CHORUS
Listen to my warning! You’re falling for a trap!
We can’t follow this con man’s map
If we do, our fortune it will be
Death by starvation and historic infamy
Hastings is a lawyer, he’s bigoted, insidious
He sides with the confederates, feeding his ambitiousness
He wants California for his colony – ridiculous
And his propaganda guide books are nothing less than dangerous
Hastings is verbose and pompous, driven by his greed
Let me give the cliff notes here so you won’t have to read
“The south is losing to the north, it soon will be decreed
slavery is illegal and no, we can’t secede
CHORUS
Listen to my warning! You’re falling for a trap!
We can’t follow this con man’s map
If we do, our fortune it will be
Death by starvation and historic infamy
Hastings says we need to move to Oregon or Brazil
Or super california where we can sit and chill
Other people do the work while we sip cold iced tea
The southern life – with child brides and legal slavery
Hastings sold a short cut, a quicker trek out west
Like Moses and the Red Sea, a short cut’s often best!
Only Moses was a prophet, his followers were blessed
Hastings wanted profits, people died because he guessed
8.) MANFEST PART 2
Man 1
Typical woman, she’s being divisive!
Undermining her husband for being decisive
Man 2 yeah, but what if she’s right? I don’t want to die
Man 1 Bro! Lance is the man, a regular guy
Don’t be distracted, you sound like a pussy
This is a land grab! We win when we’re pushy!
……..
They were white and able, Cis hetero normative
In the prime of their lives, mainstream and conformative
These were the “He” in the Battle “Hymn”:
Christian soldiers, their pseudonym
They had paintings of God in their own image
And the cross before them on the line of scrimmage
Feeling an urge, so intense, irrepressible
To own all that land, so vast and accessible
White open spaces, empty and free,
Waiting for commerce and a user fee
And those purple mountains majesty?
To let them sit idle was almost a travesty
Homesteading was the deal of the century
Build a house, then a wall and a big penitentiary
The west was was still lawless, no order or policing
Rumors of scalping were few..but increasing
The natives still free, not formally censured
Still fighting, not dead yet, not yet indentured
Don’t worry, they got this, it’s so not an issue
The weapons they carry are government issued
Manpower, gunpowder, egos bloated
Their rifles and wagons were fully loaded
Remington Arms, God on their side
White fingers on triggers, hello genocide!
….
This land is their land
It is not your land
It might have once been
They do not care, man
They came and claimed it
Then raped and maimed it
This land belongs to them alone
9.) HOW’S YOUR ASPEN?
They reached Hasting’s cutoff on July 31st
Dissenters were silenced or otherwise coerced
They could have gone north to the Oregon Trail
But Tamsen’s protests were to no avail
It was a deadly premiere – the path was unrehearsed
One more step, their fate could not be reversed
Oh what an awful place it was when first the Donners entered
Nothing like the straight and narrow Lansford Hastings mentored
There was no trail, there was no path, the range was choked with Aspen
The cottonwood and undergrowth left all the oxen gaspin’
CHORUS:
Rock cliffs, steep routes, the men-folk worked their butt-off
So much for Lansford Hastings and his untried stupid cut-off
(bloody made-up, fantasticated, Stupid effing, etc.)
The bushwack through the wasatch range went on without abatement
To say it had some ups and downs would be an understatement
It took a fortnight plus two days, a pioneering no no
When navigating vertical change, the crow flies like a yo-yo
Finally they saw the Great Salt Lake and all said, “Wow”
The billboard read, “If you were Mormon, you’d be home by now!”
Pity that the saints weren’t there yet, they’d have made them merry
With jello-molds, rice crispy treats and ice cream with a cherry
But all alone they stood and stared, their thirst beyond the pale
Broken spokes, depleted folks, their oxen dragging tail
Corn was king in Illinois, with amber waves of grass
These purple mountains majesty are a royal pain in the ass…pen
10.) COMMUNICATION: NARRATOR
They had made a new trail at enormous effort
The Mormons used it later on their way to the desert
“A toast to the Donner’s for paving the way!”
Only Mormons don’t drink and the Donner’s…well…
At the rate they were going, if nothing else went wrong
Storms in the Sierra could make winter very long…
Tamsen bit her tongue, afraid that she might curse
When she looked at the desert they had yet to traverse
The Sierra Nevada and the Wasatch range
Bookend the Great Basin, dangerous and strange
Once swirling with water, an ocean galore
Now an ancient and arid, dry ocean floor
A smart and quiet obedient wife
Could not keep quiet when it came to loss of life
She gave George an earful, “I will not go!”
Listen to your partner’s people, “no means no!”
11.) NO, MEANS SNOW – Tamsen and George
T: Oh look at us now! I told you to listen!
G: You’re blaming me for the group’s decision?
T: You are a leader, a man who could sway them
Instead you let hastings influence and play them
G: No, woman, no! Don’t you talk back to me!
I am your husband, do not disagree
Mine is the last word and I said go
T: All right then, George, but I told you so.
G: I said “yes,” we were going too slow
You must understand, “No means snow!”
T: Snow, George! I know! I know “no means snow!”
But the Wasatch was slower and now snow means snow!
G: What do yous know, Ms. (s)know it all
I know that the salt flats snow free for all
Tamsen, I sense (s)no issues ahead
T: Snow issues! Exactly!! That’s what I said!
G: He said 40 miles, (s)no more
T: Lance? (s)no! He lies, like a floor!
G: There’s (s)no snow on the short cut
You’re just tense, (s) no if and or buts
T: Is (s)no what you’re hearing, George?
‘Cause (s)no happened in the gorge
We lost a week plus four
It’s (s)no better than before
G: Is snow what you said? I said no and I know!
T: Like when moisture condenses and freeze(s)no?
G: Just like I sez, (s)no, I swear you said snow
T: You listen to me, George, “No means (s)no!”
G: Well if no means snow, and snow means (s)no
Then dammit woman, off we go
T: There’s (s)no argument, George, if you sez (s)no
Then know it alls (s)know what is going to blow
12.) SALT FLATS
They call them the salt flats, They’re salty and flat
(and there ain’t a lot you can do about that!)
It’s a long stretch of salt and the ground’s really flat
(the midwest is flat – but this ain’t that!)
In so much as the rockies are not like Milwaukee
(You don’t have to say it, the Rockies are…rocky)
The “short cut” had sent them straight into the Wasatch
Short cutting right through to this terrible hot patch
We set modern land speed records here
Cause there’s nothing around to interfere
No cacti, no lizards, no annoying oasis
Just the sun beating down on your homeostasis
Setting a wagon speed record is tough
Cause as fast as you go, it ain’t fast enough
The train stayed together till the water ran low
And the oxen got thirsty and started to slow
And while no gun was fired to start off this race
Clear as death was the moment they started to pace
And unique to this race that was driven by thirst
The first was last, and the last came in first
See, a big heavy wagon was a symbol of wealth
Of many possessions, of financial health
Super duper Winnebago
Windy City to San Diego
Double decker super deluxe
Ox drawn honky tonka trucks
The Reeds brought with them more than one wagon
Jonathan
Oh Wow, super cool…till the oxen start draggin’
Margaret
Now suddenly, lighter was better and faster
The tables were turned on the wheels of disaster
And what seemed like the must haves in Indiana
They were chucking stuff overboard, even Grandma’s piana
As the lighter wagons peeled away from the train
The heavier laden kept praying for rain
Ditching their heirlooms, prizes, possessions,
They had to keep up with this funeral procession
Onward they trudged through an endless montage
And the only good news was just a mirage
Shedding their valuables, lightening their load
Dishes, cast iron, the porcelain commode
The oxen were going downhill without drinking
An uphill battle while morale was sinking
What the hell Lansford Hasting, what the hell have you done?
Sending our people to die in the sun
You said the salt flats were forty across
It’s eighty at least, and we bear the cross
You said water we’d find water in one day at the most
You lied to us, Hastings, now our cattle are toast
Then on the horizon a dark mass appeared
Could it be they were gaining? They peered as they neared
For sure, it’s a wagon! It was cause to rejoice
Wait, it’s abandoned, our friends had no choice
But to cut loose their cattle and press on by foot
With death close behind them, they couldn’t stay put
Oh what can be worse than the troubles I’ve seen?
Don’t ask – but you did…so yeah, check your canteen
It’s hard to watch oxen dying of thirst
But dying yourself? I’d say that’s probably worst
Feel that little “eh hem” in the back of your throat?
That starts as a tickle and dries to a choke?
It’s a thirst so intense that you fear for your life
(and you should! People die!)
Say goodbye to your wife
And your kids, and your oxen
(already dead!)
Say goodbye to the voices inside of your head
Screaming why did I follow advice from a liar
Who led me into this baptism by fire
We thought that he knew stuff, he’d written a book!
The art of the wagon wheel, art of the hook
Cory
Maybe so, I don’t doubt that he’s partly to blame
I also have heard it’s a much deeper game
Hastings is saying that the south’s going south
(They’re sayin the same about you, cottonmouth)
He wants a new south that will rise in the west
He needs people to help him and only the best
With his help he can make us great again!
He said his sword’s even mightier than his pen!
Wow! A super big sword? He must be the man!
Take it easy there, junior, what we need is PLAN!
We need law and order or it’ll get all chaotic!
If we don’t silence dissenters, we are not patriotic!
Hello? He lied to us, why believe what he’d say?
Until we listened to him, we were doing okay
Did he mention slavery or something akin?
Then he needs to make immigration great again
Now here we are dying, no water, no nurses
Our wagons are coffins, our horses need hearses
Hold on, take a minute, this party’s not over
(Though you may wish you’d saved that last four leaf clover)
The luck of the Irish may yet see us through!
If we survive this, we’ll be mulligan stew!
Most of the audience knows what comes next
An ordeal by hunger – the truth’s more complex
We all love the saying, “accidents happen”
But even an asteroid hitting Manhattan
Is a causal result of a series of actions
events, circumstances, repulsions, attractions
And all man made disasters, from war to facism
are born from decisions, half Darwin, half schism
Misinformation, lies and denials
Are the taproots of most of societies trials
The Donner’s are half way to heaven’s salvation
And they still haven’t tasted the pangs of starvation
Bruised from the wasatch, parched from the flats
The odds are against them, terrible stats
But it wasn’t just Hastings, it wasn’t just snow
It was not just an accident…on with the show.
13.) MANFEST PART 3
Man:
Well I hate to admit it but Tamsen was right
Marty:
See?!? everyone knows it, because of our fight
Man:
She’s lucky your mother taught you not to hit ‘em up
Marty:
Tamsen better run when I say giddy-up
She did it on purpose, this is all her fault
“I told you so!” like a frontal assault…
On my manhood! In front of the whole damn train!
She’s a silly old woman with a peanut butter brain!
Men:
Do we also have to struggle to keep women in their place?
When we’re already policing every other possible race?
We need to help others behave more like we do
Narrator voice
What you need, sugar pie, is a paradigm redo
Science confirms man’s mancentric psyche
Dream studies show what we all knew was likely
Men dream about men, it’s the world that we live in
It is what it is but you still shouldn’t give in
Feelings aren’t facts, not all impulses are good
Be aware of your lack of awareness, you should!
Think hearing and caring is femmy? It’s not!
In fact most of your partner’s think empathy’s hot!
Toxic and manly, filled with aggression
Clinging to hate and his dreams of secession
Homophobic, afraid of a therapy session
Rage is his go-to for self-expression
I get it, I hear you, the world’s moving on
You are less educated and so put upon
Hate is for incels, you know that it’s true
PS women are making more money than you
All that antipathy, anger, aggression,
Stunted development, repressive repression
All that misogyny, oedipal longings
Who is you daddy, unpacked belongings
Even as science burns bright through our fogginess
We have sleep in our eyes and hung over grogginess
The donner’s party was just one of the benders
Drunk on white power we’re all repeat offenders
Four hundred years of pure asshole behavior
And we still think we’re some kind of aryan savior
I wish we could say 2020 is hindsight
That the racisms over and everything’s all right
But this shit just keeps going, we love hierarchy
If all men were equal – there’s is still patriarchy
14.) SET UP FOR COTTON KILLS: NARRATOR
What happened to the Donners in the snow
Need not happen to you if you buy a chateau
But should something happen and you get lost
Here are some tips to make friends with Jack Frost
15.) COTTON KILLS
That snow don’t want your dollar bills
To stop the chills
You need the secrets of the hills
for example….Cotton kills
If you fall into a
River or start to Sweat
You need wool to insulate you
It’s warm when Wet
Cotton freezes and stays frozen
And so will You
Non Plant fibers and synthetics
Or silk will Do
Start with a base layer
something light and whicky
then your fleece and gore-tex parka
it’s not so tricky
no cotton socks
throw out your jeans!
make sure your undies
are propylene
Water freezes from the top
Then bottles burst
Pack them top down in your parka
Hydration first
Bodies lose heat from the top
the neck and head
Keep your thinking cap on always
like ma-ma said
If you get lost
or separated
build a shelter in the snow
and stay hydrated
crawl in you bag
stay where you are
and if you’re driving
stay in your Car
Flashlights don’t work below thirty two
uh huh
Pack in your coat
keep them close to you
Your brain is your best asset
when lips are blue
If you’re running out of food
don’t eat your Neighbor
Fish and trap for lit-tle game
then cook and savor
Melting snow is less efficient
than melting ice
Be sure and water proof your matches
They don’t strike twice
Say I’m approached by a bear?
Black bears bluff, fight back and scare
If it’s a grizzly instead?
Lie face down pretend your dead
What if I fall off a crest?
Use your axe to self arrest
What if the pick doesn’t slow?
Stick your crampons in the snow
And if I Fall in crevasse?
Try to land upon your ass
And if I can’t see the sky?
Say good-bye
You may think this does-n’t apply to you
You’re the type to sit in hot tubs
and Bar-B-Q
You like beds and indoor plumbing
I bet you do
Doesn’t mean you don’t need info
about the snow
cause guess what the climate’s changing
Just so you know
Cotton kills
16.) NARRATOR: GORE-TEX FREE
And by the way – and just so you know
There are folks gore-tex free who thrive in the snow
Generations of naturalists, we call them First Nations
With languages, cultures, secure populations
Ask your sherpa how this kind of community
Lives in peace in the wilderness, and unobtrusively
Okay! Sorry! back to our story, remember the alamo?
Cultural genocide, Kiowa, Navajo?
The united states was still a slaveholding nation
Still is, just rebranded – “mass incarceration”
The trail of tears, unforgivable cruelness
Now note the first nation’s incredible coolness
As we have learned, sometimes colonist suffer
They lose their bearings, don’t have enough buffer
The natives were known to help them as guides
Give food and shelter, even buffalo hides
This was their answer to the white man’s inanity
Simple acts of compassion, basic humanity
Indenginous folk gave the white folk a hand
While the white folk were taking and raping their land
Whose land? Exactly! And that’s part of the story
The colonist brain needs ownership, inventory
Indigious people see earth as their mother
How can one own something living? …oh brother
First nations were slaughtered by white pioneers
But it happened so long ago, a hundred plus years
Do we cut them slack? Those were olden days
They didn’t know better, different times, different ways…
Well, By that logic our time is also unique
We don’t have to replay their tragedy greek
Their past must inform our current morality
our racist systems we accept as normality
Use their perspective and make better choices
Quit oppressing the planet, her children, her voices
We like to look back and think “gee, I wonder”
While they’re like, wtf, y’all still have world hunger?!?
This is the best you could do with democracy?
Stop looking at us like we’re filled with hypocrisy
We don’t want your judgment, your slack or your pity
We want all you with privilege to stop acting so shitty!
Oooooh!
Thank you, George Donner, for that intervention
Let’s go with that opening, y’all pay attention
For all of us privileged – yes, that means you
We need to get started, there is so much to do
It’s no longer enough to be well intended
We must be impactful, get amendments amended
Access to health care for all communities
Equal treatment in courts, the same opportunities
Stop red-lining neighborhoods, projects and schools
Level the playing field, use the same rules
Respect ancestral burial grounds
Make land reparations, what goes around comes around
Don’t steal people’s land, be a good neighbor
Oh and hey, here’s a good one! Pay for your labor!
We screwed it up, we made this mess
How about some airtime for those we oppress
Close up the race based income gap
Lift every voice – start by shutting your yap
Fact check your logic then own your religions
Be aware of your bias when making decisions
Open your eyes, we are blind to our bias
We practice exclusion and call ourselves pious
We profile people, we micro-aggress
So creative in finding new ways to oppress
Do you only feel right when others are wrong?
Still “Us and Them?” let it go, get along
Uncomfortable? Nervous? Don’t know what to say?
Then study, inform yourself, read everyday
The path moving forward is no big mystery
We need to acknowledge the truth of our history
Respect, reconcile, and make reparations
We have models provided by plenty of nations
And you don’t have to love everyone all the time
No more than you have to make everything rhyme
But you do have to listen and don’t be corrective
Review what the Trekkies call “The Prime Directive”
Let folks self-determine, respect people’s rights
Especially on intergalactic flights
NARRATOR:
Now back to you, George Donner, back to your story
We rejoin our hero in camp purgatory….
17.) DONNER LAKE: George Donner
So, all of that prep that we did? All the things I have seen to?
We’re huddled and cold in a makeshift lean-to
The mighty have fallen, we’ve little to eat
Some coffee and sugar, no salt, scraps of meat
Our wagon abandoned, our oxen dismissed
The snow was too deep, if you get my drift
The rest of the party are set up in a compound
I’m a little relieved they’re all 6 miles westbound
Reed is gone, he killed a man, Keseberg doesn’t care
Dolan and the Breens have food but aren’t inclined to share
the Graves have one foot in it, who will save the Reeds?
The Eddy family goes without while hunger sows it’s seeds
Mrs. Murphy’s low on chowder, the family Foster’s freeze
The only winter crops we’ve got are sickness and disease
…..
And here’s the topper, if I may, my personal nadir
In the face of death to everything and all that I hold dear
I cut my hand upon my axe, the stupidest mistake
The kind of error farmers joke a city man would make
And now it is infected, though Tamsen cleans it everyday
A hand infection in the woods means death is on it’s way
So I can’t even hope or dream, of all the stupid errors
I will die by my own hand…and what of my pallbearers?
If I’m remembered or survived, by Tamsen and my offspring
My lovely wife, my towhead girls, the source of life, my wellspring
Will they forgive me my mistakes? My ignorance and pride?
Or will the Donners die forgotten, withered in the hillside?
Lord upon who’s door I knock, will Thou let me enter in?
Forgive me Lord, I tried so hard, forgive me in my sin
I followed Thy commandments, I did the white thing, Lord
I glorified myself in Thee, I forged my plowshare, made a sword
18.) SET UP MAZURKA: NARRATOR
So, Reed, for wrong reasons, had made it into the valley
He put up some money, paid some locals to rally
To get up and over and rescue the immigrants
Each one of them promised their doest of diligence
But it takes more than money to cross this divide
More than hopped up, youthful masculine pride
The wall that divides califor from Nevada
‘S made of fault block escarpments, there ain’t nothin baddeh
7000 feet high, 2 million feet long
This wall got you beat, it’s so right that it’s wrong
Made of rock, check it out, hundred million years old
Go on take it for granite – ‘cause it is – like I told
“Sierra Nevada,” for those from the plains
Means “Snow covered mountain,” read “fear in your veins”
Even mountain men know that the snow is irascible
Putting impossible back in impassable
How does one do it, make a safe journey west?
The Oregon Trail – go around – it’s the best
Proven and tested, for all purposes paved
Wait! You took Hasting’s cut-off? You might not be saved
Hastings was bluffing, he’d never done that route
The cut-off was a one-off guess, without a parachute
He chose his words, his crossing was something he implied
Would it hold up in courts you ask? That’s something you decide
Think it over while you’re starving, dying for some lunch?
Eat a bullshit sandwich, wash it down with sucker punch
Make peace with your maker and march till you drop
And don’t beg, “pretty please with sugar on top”
‘Cause that sugar is powdered and ten feet deep
All fluffy and slushy and slippery steep
“Yeah, well I’ve got a Subaru, four wheel drive”
We call that, “Subarubris,” you’ll need more to survive
i-80 in winter, the renowned “Donner Pass,”
(The name helps remind us to check our sass)
Sixty car pile ups, trucks sliding sideways
Lines of cars sliding backwards down an interstate highway
Check weather, be cautious, let’s use our brains!
What’s this? Stop my car? I have to use chains?
So here was the deal with these big rescue missions
They were more, “oh wow! You need food and physicians!
I’ll take a small child and put him in my pack
I’d leave you some food but I need it to get back”
A few more attempts were made from both sides
A few times the stranded had indigenous guides
…for dinner, I mean, they killed them and ate them
I know they were desperate but it’s hard not to hate them
On one such attempt, the man William Eddy
Told the guides to escape or they’d end up bloody
The other men, angered, made side eye contact
At Eddy for breaking the social contract!
“What the hell, man, we’re WHITE! What’s the matter with you?
Are you soft on the natives? Cause that’s a taboo!
You’re white and they’re red! You’re a pinko commie!
Then both started thinking of cheese and salami
They were racist for sure, also crazy with hunger
Drooling at Eddy, fresher and younger…
19.) MAZURKA MELANCOLIQUE – Eddy
I fear the coming night, I fear not all will make the morning
I feel their burning eyes on me, I do not look but feel their yearning
Without a bite tonight they’re surely done,
They see me as the meal they can kill and live to see the morning sun
If I can stay alive to-night they’ll surely die from natural causes
And will I starve my life or kill my moral soul and cut my losses?
Show me the thinnest line ‘tween life and death
Who’ll cross that line and eat
and call their neighbor meat
and kill while there’s still breath?
And does it even matter anymore?
It’s all we’re going to be remembered for
The immigrants whose bodies ate themselves by starving
Ate the bodies car-ving what was left
While frostbite ate away the rest
Of the survivors hopes of the west
Dear Lord, protect my life and my little boy and wife from death
Not very long ago back before the snow, we worked together
We’d share our daily chores, toast s’mores, never mind the weather
Little Jinny and her pony
were not so bony,
friends forever
We had our petty words
but we were still all birds of a feather
With our wagons circled round, we had common ground, and common sense
The wagon train that could, knock on wood, free of incidents
Breaking bread and killing deer,
with our children near,
such innocence
With diligence and pride,
marching side by side
as immigrants
When human hunger speaks it struggles for some moral reason
We’ll eat the oxen first, then horses, dogs and ponies in their season
Then god forgive us as we prey
upon the fifty shades of emigre,
this horrid act of social treason
When hunger takes a human voice, the things it says are tasteless
“Let’s kill the natives first, they’re less,” I’m sorry, that’s just racist
Next eat the drivers, they are childless
Then we begin by class
All of this is absolutely baseless
I warned the guides to run, not to wait
And now they want my head upon the plate
If I nod off they will do
And they will kill you
And eat your mate
Acclimate
The Wolf at least does not discriminate
We humans get to choose, deliberate
To kill is not a fate
Let me die before I choose to hate
20.) THOUGHT DEFINES HUMANS: NARRATOR
Eddy, oh Eddy, he still gets to choose!
He still has his moral sense, something to lose
Stay with us, Eddy, you kind voice of reason
We need good men like you come the end of this season
The power to think, to choose, to give
Defines us as humans, as long as we live
Our revered frontal lobe, so small when compared
To the weight of it’s duty, especially when scared
To stay level headed, do not enter fear
While others are processing, don’t interfere
The cradle of reason, of ethics of empathy
The home of our betters selves, kindness and sympathy
……
Take away thought – what have we got?
Central and nervous…that’s not a lot
Bottle in front of me
Frontal lobotomy
You’re still responsible, don’t say you forgot
Who are these immigrants in their decline
With so many stressors, can they still define?
Whom and whose?
Rhythm from blues?
When do they cease to “be,” where is the line?
When will they shrug at systems complex
Can they even still fathom what happens next?
Back to the basics
Plugged in the matrix
What is a person outside of their context?
Walking around in human forms
Outside of all their societal norms
Money is worthless
Humor is mirthless
Shit’s getting real as the winter storms
Ranch hand, landowner, seems class is erased
Race has become just a matter of taste
Appetite’s victory
Honor’s defeat
If you don’t feel shame, you can’t be disgraced
……
No personal borders, no sense of awareness
No civil discourse, no striving for fairness
We forget that inside everyone has a soul
We are more than thing or a threat to control
…..
I don’t know how I would act if I were in their situation
Do you?
I love the warmth of fire in snow
Do you?
I love to laugh
Do you?
I try to understand how the world has shaped me,
Do you?
I hate when my feet bleed from freezing and cracking
Do you?
I like to sleep with loved ones near
Do you?
I like a well cooked meal
Do you?
I love to dance
Do you?
I hold a place for peace
Do you?
I live in hope
Do you?
I know what is best for me
Do you?
I know what I think
Do you?
21.) WHO THREW MY LEATHER SHOE: Donner party
Oh, who threw the leather shoe in Mrs. Murphy’s chowder
Nobody spoke so he shouted all the louder
It’s an Irish trick that’s true
To lace starvations stew
With harnesses, rawhide or leather shoes…
22.) DESCENT INTO LULLABY: NARRATOR
It’s hard decipher lad from lassie
When it’s all stripped away
No hub caps, no chassis
Hard to decipher rich from poor
Lying still on the floor
Face down
No shoes
grey
Still
Good bones, you say
It’s hard to decipher
23.) AM I SAFE? – Child
Am I safe anymore?
Mama is sleeping, there’s nobody here
Mama, oh Mama, nobody’s here
All of the grown ups are acting so strange
Mama, oh mama they’re acting so strange
I used to feel safe, now everything’s changed
The grown ups are angry and fighting for bread
The children are hungry and crying for bread
I’m afraid what will happen, I’m afraid to be dead
Eat or be eaten, I heard someone say
But I am so small, I have nothing to say
The dead don’t eat, the living prey
Among all my people the larder was shared
Now it’s all changed since the larder went bare
I feel that they hate me, they will take me, mama
Oh mama I’m scared
(interlude)
Mama wake up! No one is near!
Brother is cold in his sleep, mama hear!
Where once I felt safe, there is hunger and fear
Mama, stop sleeping, somebody’s here
They’re taking my brother, mama, mama
Should I speak or lie still, either way
I disapear
24.) STAGES OF STARVATION: NARRATOR
Ancient recipe, bring water to boil
In desperation, add a mortal coil
“No way! I would never!” Oh! You’re different than them?
Cause midwestern Christians know it’s a sin
Sunday school teaches it’s gross and taboo
To convert other people into a stew
The truth’s hard to swallow and harder to chew
If the Donner’s could do it – what about you?
And is not metabolism…
A form of cannibalism?
Starvation is
When the body eats itself
The Slow food movement
Months in the making
Stripping away the non-essentials
The sense of thirst
Brain function
Giving a shit
Humanity
Thoreau..
Donner lake meets Walden pond
Go!
Spartan-like? How so?
Reduce life to its lowest terms?
You mean, worms?
25.) TEDIUM DIEM – Donner Party
We
In we
Ennui
Thin we
No pee
Dumb
Bore
Um
Boredom
Lists
Less
Listless
Food
Less
See
Drowsy
Cant see
Focus
Folk us
See
Eyes
Lack
Slack
Squalls
Stalls
Squalor
Dark
Tallow
Pew
Trid
You tried
Sote
Silt
26.) WHO THREW MRS. MURPHY IN – Donner party
Who threw Mrs. Murphy in Mrs. Murphy’s stew
Her body smells so good…was it me or was it you?
It’s an Irish stew it’s true
It was either her or you
Floating in that aromatic stew
Mrs. Murphy was already dead, you know
She didn’t feel any pain or hurt…
On the other hand – lady fingers for dessert
Mrs. Murphy
Stew
27.) WRAP UP: NARRATOR
Spring has come, and with it the thaw
Most had succumbed to nature’s law
The mountain men began to appear
To loot the caches of wealth buried near
Tamsen was failing, too weak to travel
She’d been watching her husbands infection unravel
The winter brutal, the hunger relentless
And her three little girls, if they lived would be parentless
Here were the choices she saw before her
Each single option a singular horror
If she left her husband, he would die alone
The chilling thought chilled her already chilled bone
She knew she would die before she could advocate
For her three little girls with so little on their plate
And did she want their last memory of their mother to be
Collapsed on a trail, buried ‘neath a tree?
Better to lie to her little ones? Is it?
Y’all go ahead, we’ll catch up and we’ll visit
In our big Hacienda on the street made of gold
Where we’ll all be together and plant marigolds…
If the girls stayed put, they’d watch both parents die
Then all alone, how could they scrape by?
Frances was six, little Georgia just five
And Eliza, the baby, was barely alive
With days left to live, for both her and George Donner
She appealed to the mountain men’s sense of honor
She entrusted her children to these strangers, unknown
Two white men, C.L. Cady and Charles Stone
Five hundred dollars was a lot in those days
More than her trust in these men and their ways
But what were her options, what could she do?
She wanted to save them – all mothers do!
Yet we vilify brown parents at our southern border
Desperate, like the Donner’s, trusting all to some strange porter
When your child’s death nearing and the last resort is traffic
Tamsen proved the act is human and not about a demographic
She kissed them goodbye in their little silk dresses
Blessed them with promises, love and successes
She packed silver spoons and small things to barter
For safety and kindness till they grew and were smarter
With great ceremony, the men promised Ms. Donner
And take them did, on their white man’s word of honor
Six miles and left them at the compound of death
Where Keseberg was cooking soups of young flesh
The party started out with 87
46 lived, the rest are in heaven
Just over half, is that what you think?
Let’s look again at a familiar link:
The wealthiest families had the least mortality
The other white families had at least solidarity
If you were a driver or a hired hand
Four out of five of you died, understand?
Since smallpox arrived, that’s how it’s been
Death rates are tied to the color of your skin
For people of color, from covid to birthrates
This division trumps the promise of these united states
28.) THE WALL
I’ll give you Berlin and the great wall of China
But nothin, but nothin will ever be finah
Then that kick ass Sierra, formidable foe
Checkpoint Charlie for the westward ho
The switchbacks are brutal the incline prohibitive
Climbers choose expletives over an adjective
But unlike most borders you don’t need an ID
You just have to hoof it, admission is free
Man Made walls are to keep people out
Fear for the bricks, hate for the grout
Nature is cruel but it does not know hate
Mountains are mighty but don’t discriminate
Political borders change with the season
Maybe yes, maybe no, either love or high treason
So hard to predict from one term to the next
If the border patrol will be friendly or vexed
Will they grant you asylum or deny you’re existent?
In this, mother nature is way more consistent
Just wait for the summer, wear sensible shoes
With the sun on your back and a birds eye view
There, on the summit, the landscape extremity
El Capitan and valley, Yosemite
Look, there’s Sacramento! Named after the river,
“Most holy sacrament,” yeah! It delivers
Then off in the distance, the famed golden gate
With a big neon sign, “You Hoo! Emigrate!”
The sunset glows at the sea washed shore
Lifting it’s lamp by the golden door
Welcome to Mexico, Hola Amigo!
Home of the Esselen, Hupa and Kato
Plus a hundred and three more Indigenous Nations
And some ex-pats from China and cotton plantations
Welcome to all in this human condition
Moving around is a human tradition
All humans journey, we often get lost
But we are who we are because borders were crossed
Land bridges, ice bridges, boats and canoes
Good on you, humans! Migrating’s good news!
It’s good for the merchant, it’s good for the trade
It’s how scientific advances are made
Sharing ideas, mistakes and solutions
Solving our problems, diseases, pollutions
It’s good for the offspring to share DNA
Stay away from your cousin! It’s better that way!
And it’s stressful to meet people new, Yeah, I feel ya,
But that’s how we learn and avoid hemophilia
Now back to the summit, our own immigrant
Blistered and aching, no name, not a cent
Talk to the mountains, it’s time to breathe free
You’re tired, you’re hungry, but you made it! You’re free!
You belong to this planet, this is your journey
And we’ll get you a court appointed attorney
Ann Ellsworth 