Turning Genocide Into Fun Fun Good Times

In the U.S. (of A. in case you were confused) this Thursday is the celebration of the giving of thanks. The one time of year where its citizenry take the time to self-assess and take stock of their good fortunes, yet distract ourselves from that self-reflection with the national pastime of unfathomable feats of gluttony.

I know, Turkey, it's surprising, but you're gonna get ate, then pooped out. Sorry. Image Source
I know, Turkey, it’s surprising, but you’re gonna get ate, then pooped out. Sorry. Image Source

While people criticize Thanksgiving (said detachedly as though I hand’t just called it a carnival of food-centric bacchanalia) due to its origins being steeped in the genocide of the American Indian. What I want to do is make those of you who are still anxious about celebrating Thanksgiving because of all of those historical woes, feel a bit better about sitting down and stuffing your drooling maws with factory raised, steroid-injected, freak turkeys.

Apocryphal story we learn as children: Puritans, religious zealots with questionable fashion choices, moved to the new world where they realized, “oh damn, where are all the supermarkets and overpriced artisinal jellies,” and were probably going to die, when some friendly Native Americans with an affinity for feathers and toplessness, rolled up like a posse of of hippies and taught those buckle-hatted Jesus freaks how to grow food. The natives with their sweet abs and the Puritans with their glowing whiteness all sat down together to celebrate their new found friendship at a feast. Hooray!

An actual movie. Watch it, I dare you.

Real Origin Recap:  British colonialists, in particular Puritans, were massive genocidal dicks. That’s all.

Okay, for a little more detail, Europeans arrive in North America, spread Smallpox on accident and then willfully, and enslave many others. The Puritans arrive after this first wave and see all this lush land and decide since there’s no fences, it’s theirs, including the tribal land of people who were already there. Since those native people were so unwilling to share, the Puritans along with some mercenaries show up at the Pequot Indian’s village during their “Green Corn Festival” and slaughter 700 men, women, and children. The governor of the colonialist colony declared that “A day of thanksgiving.” Hooray? And it gets way more horrifying from there.

Why is it okay to still celebrate Thanksgiving?

Simply, we aren’t celebrating anything to do with Puritans or Native Americans or anything to do with harvesting or (hopefully) the wholesale slaughter of people whose skin tone is a shade darker. We’re so far removed from that, the holiday has evolved to being a familial gathering…which is more a wholesale slaughter of emotions. So you’re still honoring those who were brutally murdered by slowly, ruthlessly murdering your emotional well-being and liver.

It's always nice to add a historical (?) painting of unfathomable bullsh*t to reinforce the blistering stupidity of the idealized version of history.
It’s always nice to add a historical (?) painting of unfathomable bullsh*t to reinforce the blistering stupidity of the idealized version of history.

Childish ignorance of the true, gruesome nature of the holiday has lead to us punishing ourselves by spending our precious hours with people who will make us feel guilt over something much more trivial than genocide. True, having your parents relentlessly hound you about your marital status or why you never became a doctor isn’t the same as the massacre of the indigenous people, but the historic guilt coupled with the histrionic stigmatizing of your life choices has lead to the descendants of the colonists (aka Whitey Von Palenips) genociding themselves, engaging in self-carnage, and uh, holocaustabating (sex is to masturbating what mass death is to…you get the idea).

So, enjoy! The best revenge against your homicidal relatives is to enjoy the holiday. Yes, we need to understand history, but we also need to be cognizant that sometimes myths, even those blanketing the true history like a smallpox blanket, can give people hope. Oh, and if you’re a black person you get to celebrate any holiday without historic guilt. Now let’s talk about that obesity epidemic…


Add yours →

  1. Yep, you know how I feel about thanksgiving. Fuck it. And columbus day, for that matter.

    That being said, yes i AM bringing a casserole to my mom’s house on thursday, thankyouforasking.


  2. Buckle-hatted Jesus freaks is my favorite line, but it was hard to choose. I will spend this Thanksgiving as I do every other, working tirelessly to eradicate small pox.


  3. Is the turkey in “Thankskilling” one of the Skeksis from “The dark Crystal”? Looks like someone found one of the old costumes sitting around some studio second hand store and used it.


    I know this is a minor, minor tangent from your profound Thanksgiving post, but “The Dark Crystal” was very important to me growing up.


  4. Cynicism, bitterness and historical truth-telling are dishes best served cold.


  5. There is no doubt there are some awful times in our history because of our greediness. And we are so quick to point the finger at other countries where genocide occurs. The pot calling the kettle black. It so happens that my family is scattered for Thanksgiving, so we are celebrating with some friends. We will all be together for Christmas.


  6. abeerfortheshower November 24, 2014 — 9:49 am

    Nice try, whitey! As a Mexican who’s going to celebrate with my Mexican family, I feel no guilt over my ancestors… well, at least in regards to this one particular day.


  7. My husband and I don’t celebrate thanksgiving. I think it’s a stupid excuse for greed and gluttony. I don’t like celebrating the Christian holidays at all. It’s just a waste of our time and money.


  8. Oh, fuck. Now I can’t enjoy Thanksgiving. Oh, I forgot: I won’t enjoy it anyway.



  9. Ok we don’t have Thanksgiving here I what I know about it I got from tv, which is it has turkey, something to do with Indians and football right…………..


  10. I’m staying home – in jammies. No family this year. Sticking big bird in the oven while I watch the Pennsylvania parade. 12 noon – parade will be over and said bird will be ready.Taking some to a few friends who can’t swing the price of a whole bird. I got lucky with a sale!


  11. Thanksgiving is, for my aunt’s family (who I will spend the day with) kind of like the dry run for the big day of Christmas familial angst. The fights have already been going on for the last several weeks and it’s anybody’s guess as to who will show and who will storm out. But poor Thanksgiving will always live in the shadow of Christmas, because the fights are always more epic at Christmas.

    Me, I’ll be sitting in the corner, stuffing my face with all the stuff I haven’t been eating for the last five months. Awesome.


  12. I found the perfect solution to both the historical & family drama-related guilt associated with Thanksgiving (besides being black, that is). All you have to do is live in a country that doesn’t celebrate it. Problem solved.


  13. This is the best Thanksgiving post I’ve read all year.

    I like the historical fiction painting, by the way. They really went all out to wait upon the locals before murdering them!


  14. This was the most entertaining and accurate telling of the story of Thanksgiving I’ve yet to read. I mean, I’ve ever read. Because, see, I read it and laughed but realized it’s pretty damn sadly true. Theretofore, how do I end this comment? Happy Genocide of the our innocent Natives Day? Happy obesity inducing, diabetes encouraging, heart attack priming day? Maybe I’ll simply expel the Jewish way of life: feel guilty and eat, eat, eat.


  15. As a British chap I would just like to say we dont do thanksgiving and we save eating turkeys until Christmas where the tradition is to buy one that is huge like seriously huge. But we dont have turkey in our house because . . . . . well because. . . there are things folk should not know.

    I have come here the pretty way again via that old blog of yours. Technical issues means my computer hates your blog. . . . . NOT ME I like it, but computers are a bit like British Colonialists and generally a pain in the arse. . . NOT ME I am nice and dont eat turkeys (well hardly ever).

    I will return, but probably the pretty way again. . . . be good, I am in general


  16. Unfathomable feats of gluttony… Pure poetry that makes me kind of, you know, excited. And check out that bird. Who says strange birds don’t have bananas? Also, I know someone who I suspect is a freak turkey that needs to be stuffed. My neighbor has no fences. Does that mean his land is alllllllll mine? Yes? Well, you said it. What do you mean I need to read between the lines? Are you a green pickster? I didn’t think so.

    Hope? What’s that?


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