Monthly Archives: January 2019

Nazi Hunter Seeks Stone Certificate

I was surfing the computernet, when I ran across this curious news story:

Berlin (IP) – Nazi hunter Dreck Yeger, famed for bringing war criminals Dummkopf Scheisse and Hasslich Hintern to justice, has set his eyes on a new target. In a press briefing in front of the Holocaust Memorial on Sunday’s Holocaust Remembrance Day, Yeger announced he is seeking the birth certificate of embattled adviser to Trump, Roger Stone.

Yeger unveiled a shocking theory to a stunned crowd of reporters and admirers that hypothesizes Roger Stone might actually be the offspring of Nazi Germany propaganda minister, Joseph Goebbels.

The intrepid Nazi hunter believes Goebbels did not die from suicide, as we have read in history books, but actually fled Nazi Germany during the last days of the war, and found refuge in Argentina.

According to Yeger, Goebbels and his wife murdered their children with cyanide, in Hitler’s bunker. Of course we all know this. But then, states Yeger, instead of committing suicide with his wife, as history tells us, he shot her, and then shot a man who looked like him. Or perhaps it was a ferret. He then fled the country, leaving authorities to believe he was actually dead.

When he settled in Argentina, he assumed the surname of “Stone” and started a new life and new family. And in 1952, his son Roger was born, according to Yeger.

Yeger next described a family trip to Mexico, where they sneaked across the U.S. border by climbing over a wall. Or perhaps a steel fence.

“Growing up in the U.S.A.,” alleged Yeger, “Roger was closely mentored by his dad, Joe, and from him developed a keen interest in politics. Especially the politics of propaganda.”

At age 20, he dropped out of college and went to work for the 1972 re-election campaign of his idol, Richard Nixon. He seemed a natural, and after the campaign was recruited by other political candidates, such as Ronald Reagan and Donald Trump, to assist with their messaging.

Yeger claims Stone has been instrumental in many dirty political tricks since 1972, that hauntingly remind us of his alleged dad, Joseph Goebbels. These tricks have involved oft-repeated barefaced lies, race-baiting, and whistling at dogs. We suspect Yeger meant “dog whistles”, but lost something in the translation.

And now Yeger wants to see Stone’s birth certificate.

“Is he really a natural born U.S. citizen?” Yeger muttered with a heavy tone of suspicion, “or was he born in Argentina? Let’s see the birth certificate.”

Then Yeger held up photos of Goebbels and Stone, side-by-side, and pointed to what he claims to be a strong family resemblance.

Yeger challenged, “Examine these two faces carefully. Notice how they both resemble the face of a ferret? Long head, beady eyes, narrow nose, thin lips. And then there is the behavior of a ferret, and the personality of a ferret. How can these two not be related?”

Ferret

It’s a good question. Check out the photos and decide for yourself. But to really know for sure, maybe Dreck Yeger is right. We must see the birth certificate.

This has been real, fake news. Satire. Nuh-uh, didn’t really happen.

Mission La Purisima Concepcion

Mission La Purisima Concepcion was founded in 1787, near present-day Lompoc, California. It’s the only California mission that is not named after a saint. Rather, its name is a promotional for artificial insemination, the pure manner in which Jesus was conceived.

In year of grace 1800, a whistleblower named Father Horra accused the Franciscan padres of Mission La Purisima Concepcion of mistreating the natives. This set off a real pain-in-the-ass sequence of events, requiring bureaucratic paper shuffling and feigned concern. California Governor Borcia was required to investigate. He sent an inquiry to the Father of the mission, and required a written reply.

Mission La Purisima Concepcion is one of three missions owned by the State of California. The other 18 belong to the Catholic Church.

The written reply he received was historical, because it remains one of the few writings in existence that tell us about life at Mission La Purisima Concepcion.

The Father of the mission explained that the natives, whom he called neophytes, were all instructed in the principles of the Catholic religion, before being baptized. They were also taught to speak Castilian Spanish.

The State of California, and the National Park Service, has gone to great lengths to restore this mission as close to how it appeared 200 years ago, including this forerunner of the semi-tractor trailer truck.

They were fed a cornmeal dish called atole in the morning and evening, and for lunch they got pozole, which is a hominy dish, and which is almost homonymous with atole. They were allotted woolen blankets, and a set of clothing that was expected to last a full year. And they were housed in huts made of tules, similar to the kind of huts they lived in before the Spanish arrived. Yep, they lived way out there in the tules.

Today you can find the same farm and ranch animals at the mission that were raised by the missionaries, including this longhorn steer.

The workday of neophytes never exceeded five hours, and children, the old, the infirm, and the pregnant were all required to do at least a small amount of work. Even the fetuses were required to pitch in, even if it was just kicking a belly or tossing some water down a deep, dark chute.

Neophytes did not like working for the soldiers, because the soldiers overburdened them, or deprived them of necessities enjoyed by those at the mission. They were the real hardasses.

In 1804, the mission baptized 1,520 natives. About that same time, nearly 500 succumbed to outbreaks of smallpox and measles. I guess Jesus saveth, and Jesus taketh away.

The neophytes were punished if they left the mission furtively, especially at night. Other peccadillos the padres punished the neophytes for included concubinage and theft. Punishments for both sexes included whippings, shackles, stocks and being locked up. Crimes against the common good, such as killing cattle or sheep, or setting fire to pastures, were given to the corporal of the guard.

The main altar of the church. The mission was destroyed by a great earthquake in 1812 (along with a bunch of other missions). It was then relocated four miles away, and rebuilt. This church, and the rest of the mission buildings, were constructed with walls four-and-a-half feet thick, reinforced with stones, to withstand any future temblors.

The governor studied this written reply and concluded that the charges against the missionaries were unfounded. Apparently, whippings, shackles, and stocks did not fall under the rubric of “mistreatment” in those days. Or perhaps everyone at that time was into BDSM.

By the way, the natives were never asked for their own opinion on how they thought they were being treated. But what could those ignorant souls know?

I assume this is the tallow candle-making shop, and not some sick adult toy factory.

But in 1824, they finally did give their opinion. After years of whippings, shackles, and stocks, the natives at three missions, including Mission La Purisima Concepcion, rose up and went to war against the missionaries.

This appears to be a three-legged stool factory. After 1834, the mission was sold to some non-Mexican white dude, who let it continue to fall into ruins. Then, in 1903, he or his family, or whoever owned it after him, sold it to the Union Oil Company. The company realized the historical importance of the mission, and collaborated with the National Park Service to restore it to its original state. Just as you’d restore an old piece of furniture, I guess.

At La Purisima, a Chumash carpenter named Pacomio led the revolt. They ran off the padres, soldiers, and their families. 1,200 Chumash natives, including 400 warriors, occupied the mission compound. But after about a month of occupation, a detachment of 109 Mexican soldiers laid siege upon the mission.

As usual, the natives had no exit plan, so they decided to fight. They deployed musket fire, arrows, and a cannon, and the Mexicans matched them with the same, except the arrows. But the Mexicans were more skilled with the use of cannons. When the dust cleared, 16 natives had lost their lives, with many more wounded, while the Mexicans lost five soldiers, with many wounded.

The missionaries were good for the natives, instilling hard work as part of the warp and weft of their character.

The Chumash surrendered, marking the end of the bloodiest Native American uprising in California history. A tribunal was held by the Mexican Army, which resulted in the executions of seven of the rebels. Pacomio and three other leaders were sentenced to 10 years hard labor on a chain gang. Two of these leaders managed to escape and return to their tribe, but Pacomio and one other had to serve their sentence.

There were rules to follow at the mission, and those natives caught disobeying were really put through the mill.

But of course, these were good, wholesome lessons that were being taught to the natives, and were not mistreatment at all. And they learned their lessons well. After the rebellion, more and more of them abandoned the mission, seeking their own way with their newly smartened brains.

And with less and less natives attending to its welfare, Mission La Purisima Concepcion gradually fell into ruins.

Ye Olde Blacksmith Shop.

Today it stands rebuilt, and is considered the most authentically rebuilt of all the California missions. Visitors will find atavistic tools, a blacksmith shop, a tallow candle shop, a loom with real wool, and much more. It even sports real, live farm animals of the kind raised at the mission 200 years ago.

But the one thing not present are tortured natives. Today nobody works at the mission with striped backs or hobbled ankles. Eventually someone finally heard Father Horra and all those native rebels. And their own definition of mistreatment was wisely accepted.

Today Mission La Purisima Concepcion is a State Historical Monument, and is considered to be the most completely reconstructed of the 21 California Missions.

Pasquala

I’ve taken a few jabs, in the past, at the Catholic missionaries who settled California. That’s because we all know they held natives prisoner in their missions. And they treated them like slaves and made them work the fields, weave baskets, and shine their shoes. And they forced them under penalty of torture to adopt Christianity.

Right?

Ahhhnnnkkk! Wrong answer, according to Catholics.

Catholics have a way of painting halos over the heads of the old missionaries. They point the finger at the conquistadors. It was the fault of the Spanish soldiers, they say. They’re supposedly the ones who exploited the natives and so badly mistreated them.

The priests were actually saints and heros, according to the Catholic Church. They were always intervening, pressuring the soldiers to back off and leave the innocent natives alone.

And there’s some truth to this. It was hard to recruit soldiers for mission-protecting work. As a result, many of the recruits had tainted pasts, and some were even recruited straight out of prisons. The Spanish government often had to scrape the bottom of the barrel to find volunteers for such remote frontier work.

These low-life soldiers resented the priests and all their rules, while the priests kept a wary eye on the soldiers. The tension between these two groups could have been sliced with a sword.

And yet the two depended on each other. Four or five soldiers were stationed at every mission. Their job was to drink, wassail, gamble, fornicate, and occasionally defend the mission whenever the natives became hostile. They were scorned by the priests for their debauchery. And in return the soldiers despised the goody two shoes priests, whom they were entrusted to defend.

This dysfunctional relationship existed at every mission, including Mission Santa Ines.

Mission Santa Ines was established in 1804, in the middle of Chumash country, about 10 miles northwest of Mission Santa Barbara. The Chumash tribe was every priest’s dream come true. They were friendly, industrious, and welcoming to the missionaries. And they were always eager to help out these strangers from a foreign land, whom they thought they were hosting.

Danish immigrants settled next to Mission Santa Ines in the early 1900s. They named the town Solvang (meaning “sunny field” in Danish), and they constructed their buildings using authentic Danish architecture. This Danish windmill stands just a few hundred feet from the mission walls. Today Solvang is a major tourist trap destination, attracting a million visitors a year, who enjoy the photogenic buildings and Danish bakeries.

The Chumash were like Li’l Abner’s shmoos. They happily went to work building the mission, an aqueduct system, and agricultural enterprise. Their sacrifices made the mission a rocking success. And so the mission thrived, raising bumper crops, and growing vast herds of livestock.

And that attracted other tribes. Soon the Tulare tribe joined the mission activities. These folks were tough hombres, always making war and causing trouble. But at Mission Santa Ines everyone lived together in peace. It was kum ba yah time.

Mission Santa Ines was named for Saint Agnes. She was a 13-year-old Christian martyr of ancient Rome, who struck men blind when they tried to rape her. I wonder if this is how groping got started.

The priests felt righteous and satisfied. The soldiers were spoiled with abundance, belching, farting, and wallowing about like fat hogs. And the natives learned new ways to support themselves, living off the land.

Perhaps the good harmony continued because the natives were unable to decipher and translate a book one of the priests had sitting around, entitled, “How to Serve Man.” That’s what I suspect, anyway.

But in 1821 the good times went off the rails and tumbled down a rocky arroyo. Mexico won its independence from Spain. And the new Mexican government wasn’t as much into religion as the Spanish Royal Court. They said, “screw the goddamned Catholics,” and cut off support to the California missions.

The front portico of Mission Santa Ines. This mission was one of several that were destroyed by an earthquake in 1812. It was rebuilt in 1817 with thicker walls, in order to pass stricter building codes for earthquake protection.

Now the soldiers were left unchecked by the priests, and unpaychecked by the new government. They had to make a living somehow, so at Mission Santa Ines they began forcing the natives to work long, hard hours without pay, against the wishes of the missionaries. And no one came to their rescue. Not even Zorro.

One day in 1824, a soldier beat a Chumash woman. Or rather, he tried to “encourage” her to work harder. This cowardly act was the last straw. It felt revolting to the natives. And so the Chumash and Tulare tribes did just that. They revolted, and confirmed the soldiers’ beliefs that the natives were, indeed, revolting.

These indigenes were soon joined by Chumash and Tulare natives at nearby Mission Santa Barbara and Mission La Purisima Concepcion. And it became the largest organized uprising during the Spanish and Mexican periods in California. The day of reconciliation had arrived.

The mission fell into ruins after 1824, then restored more than a century later. Except for this column, which shows off the original adobe bricks.

Buildings were burned to the ground, and those that weren’t, were occupied by angry tribe members. They evicted the soldiers, priests, and their family members, forcing them to flee.

But surprisingly, few lives were lost during this revolt. This may be due, in part, to a little native girl named Pasquala.

Pasquala belonged to the Tulare tribe. This young girl got sick one day, from food poisoning. That’s right, even Native Americans occasionally eat the wrong berry or mushroom. She was brought by her loving parents to Mission Santa Ines, and the missionaries kindly helped her recover.

The entrance to the church.

The Tulare tribe didn’t like this. Not one bit. They were already getting tired of the padres, and they wanted to break off the tribe’s friendship. And maybe they were missing all the great fun that comes from making war and causing problems. So they decided to force Pasquala’s parents to return to the tribe.

One day they attacked the mission and killed Pasquala’s father while he was working in the vineyards. Then they kidnapped Pasquala and her mother and hauled them back to the Tulare village some miles away. They must have been rough on the little girl’s mother during all this action, because soon after, she died.

This was at the same time, in 1824, that the great revolt against the missions was fomenting. Pasquala was a nosy little girl, and she overheard her people discussing plans for a much larger attack on Mission Santa Ines.

She’d had enough. They’d killed her parents. And now they were going to kill the very people who saved her life. So as soon as she could, she slipped away from the village and ran back to the mission to warn the padres.

This is what you see after you enter the church. Especially when mass is not being held.

The Padres happened to be playing against the Dodgers at the time, but when Pasquala arrived, looking frantic and disheveled, they dropped their bats and balls and gave her their complete attention.

She cried out, “Padre! Padre! War! War!” She breathlessly warned them about the imminent attack, then collapsed and died from exhaustion.

This was too bad for Pasquala, but just peachy for everyone at the mission. Her warning came just in the nick of time. The padres and soldiers quickly prepared for battle and were able to repel the attack. Had it not been for Pasquala’s warning, the whole mission would have been completely destroyed and everyone inside massacred.

The church altar. Saint Agnes is the large figure at the top. Don’t touch her, guys, or she’ll be the last thing you’ll ever see.

Mission Santa Ines declined rapidly after the revolt of 1824. Most of the natives said, “ah, to hell with it.” They lost their enthusiasm for helping the mission, and few remained to keep it maintained. It soon fell into ruins and became a fixer-upper for the real estate market.

But let’s be fair. And I’ll even eat part of my hat. This was not due to the Catholic priests. It was the fault of the soldiers who mistreated the natives and who sparked the revolt.

Madonna, with baby Jesus, adorns this nook in the church wall.

Okay, I’ll admit it. Perhaps the Catholic Church has been unfairly maligned in the portrayal of their treatment of Native Americans. Perhaps even by me, although it’s not my fault. I must have been drinking at the time I wrote all those mean posts.

It’s a controversial issue, and maybe there’s been hyperbole on both sides. But one thing is certain. At least some of the natives were very impressed with the padres, and treated them with a love and hospitality that was reciprocated. There’s evidence of this. And some of the evidence can be found in the life of a young girl.

A little Tulare child who ran her heart out, named Pasquala.

Pasquala was buried with honors at Mission Santa Ines.