Jeff Wysaski
Hello, it’s great to be back here in my own indigenous tribe’s village. I tell you, I just flew in on one of those giant hollow birds that the anthropologists are always talking about, and boy, is my primitive brain confused and angry!
Kidding, of course. But speaking of impossible magical items, I sure wish I had some sort of enchanted stick that could mysteriously amplify my voice. Can you tribesmen at the back of the dirt pit hear me?
Seriously, Shaman Tonku, you can mix a potion that keeps evil spirits from turning me into a wooden plank, but you can’t conjure up something to make my voice louder? Come on, get on that one for me, will ya?
Anyways, what is up with these gods and their mood swings? I mean, one second we’re enjoying a bountiful harvest of potatoes and honey, the next a volcano erupts and molten lava buries the entire village. Hey Yulap the Creator, how many goats does a guy have to sacrifice before you’re appeased, huh!?
And it seems like even the smallest things are setting off our gods these days. Like last week, I’m on my way to morning chant, when I realize I left my prayer stones back at the hut – oooh, yeah I know. Shame on me, right? Well, you can be sure I bowed and chanted extra hard to make up for it, but obviously it wasn’t good enough for old Yulap. So yeah, ladies, if one of those stillborn babies we dumped in the river yesterday was yours, oops. My bad.
Speaking of dumb gods, how about those Christian missionaries? Yeah, sure guys, a religion with only ONE god? Right. And he doesn’t even have the head of a snake? Yeah, okay guys, sign me up – that makes a lot of sense. And they think WE’RE the idiots!
Let’s see, what else is going on? Oh, so how about this rain drought we’ve been having, huh? What has it been, nearly a hundred days now? And we call this a rainforest? Ha, more like a NO rainforest. Am I right?
I’d like to take a moment to wish our village chief a very happy birthday. Can you believe this guy is already THIRTY years old? Wow. That is ancient. Hey chief, I’m not sure what kind of deal you made with Vu’lsack of the Underworld, but next time you talk to him, be a pal and put in a good word for me, okay?
No but seriously, 30 years old. That is quite a milestone. As you all know, very few of us make it past 25 – thank you very much, gorilla attacks! So, you know, I was racking by brain trying to find you the perfect gift to honor such a special occasion. And then it hit me: what is the one thing that all of our village elders needs? That’s right! A shallow grave on the edge at the village!
Chief, I’ve got the perfect spot picked out! I’ll start digging tonight, I promise!
No, I’m kidding of course. Seriously, folks, respect your elders. Respect your elders. They diligently killed the offspring of other fertile men so that you and I could thrive and prosper. Much props, chief. Much props.
Though, I got to tell you guys, I was more than a little nervous when the chief asked me to perform at his birthday. I mean, if I don’t appease his funny bone, I just might find myself being sold into slavery to another tribe! Hauling stones up a hill to help build a giant idol for a god I don’t even believe in? Yeesh! No thank you.
But then I thought, hey it could be worse. At least I’m not that virgin we sacrificed last night!
What? Too soon?
Alright folks, looks like Gualdar is giving me the torch. That’s my time. My name is Cua’ltak. I’ll be performing at the big rock down by the river all week. No cover. Two fermented paste minimum. Come by and see me. Thanks, you’ve been a great audience.
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