Ten Little Indians
As of right now, I still don't know how many indians there were at the first thanksgiving. But thanks to the power of Google, I have determined that 10 Indians are generally the expected number for any given occasion. Certainly, that's what the Yardbirds think:
Ten little Indians,
Standing in a line.
One stood looking at another man's wife,
Then there were nine.
Nine little Indians,
Their hearts were full of hate.
One took his neighbor's goods,
Then there were eight.
Eight little Indians,
They just got down from heaven.
One told a lie about another's best friend,
Then there were seven.
Seven little Indians,
All trying to get their kicks.
One thought he'd found another way to get to heaven,
Then there were six.
Six little Indians,
Trying to stay alive.
One took another's life,
Then there were five.
Five little indians,
All trying to find the door.
One pulled his mother down,
Then there were four.
Four little Indians,
All thinking that they gotta be free.
One little Indian forgot to say his prayers,
Then there were three.
Three little Indians,
Deciding what they're gonna have to do.
One took the name of God in vain,
Then there were two.
Two little Indians,
Thinking that they oughtta have some fun.
One took a liking to a picture of himself,
Then there was one.
One little Indian,
Out looking for the sun.
At six o'clock, the moon came out,
Then there was none.
As further proof, see this old standby of a bus song, too:
One little, two little, three little Indians
Four little, five little, six little Indians
Seven little, eight little, nine little Indians
Ten little Indian boys.
Ten little, nine little, eight little Indians
Seven little, six little, five little Indians
Four little, three little, two little Indians
One little Indian boy.
It lacks the depth that the Yardbirds bring to the issue, but it's far easier to remember.
And as a third entrant into this debate, I present the Beach Boys, with their take:
Ten little Indian boys
The first little Indian gave squaw pretty feather
(Little Indian boy)
The second little Indian made her an Indian dollar
(Fighting over a squaw)
Well the third little Indian gave her moccasin leather
(Little Indian boy)
The squaw didn't like 'em at all
The fourth little Indian took her riding in his big canoe
(Little Indian boy)
The fifth little Indian took her down the waterfall
(Fighting over a squaw)
The sixth little Indian taught the squaw how to woo-woo
(Little Indian boy)
But the squaw didn't like 'em at all
One little, two little, three little Indians
(Keep us humming we're the ten little Indians)
Four little, five little, six little Indians
(Keep us humming we're the ten little Indians)
Seven little, eight little, nine little Indians
(Keep us humming we're the ten little Indians)
Ten little Indian boys
The seventh little Indian took her over to his teepee
(Little Indian boy)
The eighth little Indian tried to give her a love poem
(Fighting over a squaw)
The ninth little Indian said "You're my Kemosabe"
(Little Indian boy)
The squaw didn't like 'em at all
The tenth little Indian said it really didn't matter
(Little Indian boy)
He acted like himself and he didn't look at her
(Fighting over a squaw)
The squaw didn't care if he never did a thing
(Little Indian boy)
Cause she loved the tenth Indian boy
Loved the tenth Indian boy
Loved the tenth Indian boy
Loved the tenth Indian boy
As you can see, 10 Indians is the consensus, though their varying degrees of depravity makes it difficult to guess how large their families may have been. If only we had a time machine! Hell, if we had a time machine, I suppose we could solve a great many more problems than the oh-so pressing concern of just how many Indians there were at Thanksgiving.
So, in a bizaarely eerie piece of kismet, the Washington Post has a story that touches on, of all things, the different hair cuts of the democratic candidates. I mean, it was just yesterday that I brought up the fact that Kerry is banking on his presidential hair alone. How 'bout that! It's as if the style editors of that paper read my blog, and were thus moved.
But probably not, I freely admit that.
And while I am back on the subject of Presidential candidates, and also due to the fact that my political compass is about as reliable as a blind, senile man is in a maze without any lights, I have come to a new appreciation for Howard Dean. I read this op-ed piece, and I was given reason to think. Maybe Dean needs to win, and he needs to be the radical catalyst that will give this country, if not the Democratic party, a much needed energy, and he can shape the face of this neo-Democratic party such that it will thrive in this millennium. Ritija pointed out, too, that Dean is able to inspire people, and he's able to win over their hearts and minds. And if he can do that, than that's what will be more important. While I may not have the fullest faith in Dean to make decisions, the fact remains that the Republicans control the legislature (and some might say the judicial, as well), and he'll have advisors to tell him to do smart things. And in the meantime, then, Dean can be Dean - he can, like I said, energize, motivate, inspire people. Much as he has already done.
Also, I had read that someone was like, "I may not for sure that Dean can do a great job, but I have to feel as though I can give him that chance." And you know, maybe that's how I feel, too. I say, give him that chance to succeed. He certainly can't do anything worse than our current President, and while that should in no way be the true measure of any candidate, it does give me cause to want to take this leap of faith.
What is sad about the Dean campaign is that he seems to be pulling apart the Democratic party. Not that i think that that is fault at all, and in the interest of bringing something new and yet still valuable to the table, I say tear the beast asunder, Howard. No, instead I am frustrated that the DNC isn't moving with the times, so to speak, or is reading the writing on the wall. I mean, if Dean does have such a following, what does that say about where the DNC is? Maybe they really ought to take the risk and consolidate their resources so that Dean can win. At least the nomination, really. Let's move this party forward. The people seem to want it, and goddamned if something doesn't need to happen in this country that's interesting, or dynamic, or - well, just something.
And again, I think in my fervor, I've gone incomprehensible. Damn, I hate it when that happens.
And in one last bit of... well, something, here is an email that my roommate sent me last night. I don't know why he did, as i don't think I'm suffering from hermorraghic (sp?) fever, but just the same, I'll file this under "things that are nice to know, just in case".
From Armand:
Hi Dan,
Did you know that there are over 250,000 cases of Hemorrhagic Dengue Fever
each year. It can cause death from bleading [sic] everywhere. It is caused by
a mosquito born virus related to the yellow fever virus. Yellow fever
causes "black vomit" from bleading [sic] into the gastrointestinal tract. That
sounds nice. These are also related to West Nile by the way, but I don't
think they are related to monkey pox.
Armand
There you go kids, look out for mosquitoes.
- dan
email me
As of right now, I still don't know how many indians there were at the first thanksgiving. But thanks to the power of Google, I have determined that 10 Indians are generally the expected number for any given occasion. Certainly, that's what the Yardbirds think:
Ten little Indians,
Standing in a line.
One stood looking at another man's wife,
Then there were nine.
Nine little Indians,
Their hearts were full of hate.
One took his neighbor's goods,
Then there were eight.
Eight little Indians,
They just got down from heaven.
One told a lie about another's best friend,
Then there were seven.
Seven little Indians,
All trying to get their kicks.
One thought he'd found another way to get to heaven,
Then there were six.
Six little Indians,
Trying to stay alive.
One took another's life,
Then there were five.
Five little indians,
All trying to find the door.
One pulled his mother down,
Then there were four.
Four little Indians,
All thinking that they gotta be free.
One little Indian forgot to say his prayers,
Then there were three.
Three little Indians,
Deciding what they're gonna have to do.
One took the name of God in vain,
Then there were two.
Two little Indians,
Thinking that they oughtta have some fun.
One took a liking to a picture of himself,
Then there was one.
One little Indian,
Out looking for the sun.
At six o'clock, the moon came out,
Then there was none.
As further proof, see this old standby of a bus song, too:
One little, two little, three little Indians
Four little, five little, six little Indians
Seven little, eight little, nine little Indians
Ten little Indian boys.
Ten little, nine little, eight little Indians
Seven little, six little, five little Indians
Four little, three little, two little Indians
One little Indian boy.
It lacks the depth that the Yardbirds bring to the issue, but it's far easier to remember.
And as a third entrant into this debate, I present the Beach Boys, with their take:
Ten little Indian boys
The first little Indian gave squaw pretty feather
(Little Indian boy)
The second little Indian made her an Indian dollar
(Fighting over a squaw)
Well the third little Indian gave her moccasin leather
(Little Indian boy)
The squaw didn't like 'em at all
The fourth little Indian took her riding in his big canoe
(Little Indian boy)
The fifth little Indian took her down the waterfall
(Fighting over a squaw)
The sixth little Indian taught the squaw how to woo-woo
(Little Indian boy)
But the squaw didn't like 'em at all
One little, two little, three little Indians
(Keep us humming we're the ten little Indians)
Four little, five little, six little Indians
(Keep us humming we're the ten little Indians)
Seven little, eight little, nine little Indians
(Keep us humming we're the ten little Indians)
Ten little Indian boys
The seventh little Indian took her over to his teepee
(Little Indian boy)
The eighth little Indian tried to give her a love poem
(Fighting over a squaw)
The ninth little Indian said "You're my Kemosabe"
(Little Indian boy)
The squaw didn't like 'em at all
The tenth little Indian said it really didn't matter
(Little Indian boy)
He acted like himself and he didn't look at her
(Fighting over a squaw)
The squaw didn't care if he never did a thing
(Little Indian boy)
Cause she loved the tenth Indian boy
Loved the tenth Indian boy
Loved the tenth Indian boy
Loved the tenth Indian boy
As you can see, 10 Indians is the consensus, though their varying degrees of depravity makes it difficult to guess how large their families may have been. If only we had a time machine! Hell, if we had a time machine, I suppose we could solve a great many more problems than the oh-so pressing concern of just how many Indians there were at Thanksgiving.
So, in a bizaarely eerie piece of kismet, the Washington Post has a story that touches on, of all things, the different hair cuts of the democratic candidates. I mean, it was just yesterday that I brought up the fact that Kerry is banking on his presidential hair alone. How 'bout that! It's as if the style editors of that paper read my blog, and were thus moved.
But probably not, I freely admit that.
And while I am back on the subject of Presidential candidates, and also due to the fact that my political compass is about as reliable as a blind, senile man is in a maze without any lights, I have come to a new appreciation for Howard Dean. I read this op-ed piece, and I was given reason to think. Maybe Dean needs to win, and he needs to be the radical catalyst that will give this country, if not the Democratic party, a much needed energy, and he can shape the face of this neo-Democratic party such that it will thrive in this millennium. Ritija pointed out, too, that Dean is able to inspire people, and he's able to win over their hearts and minds. And if he can do that, than that's what will be more important. While I may not have the fullest faith in Dean to make decisions, the fact remains that the Republicans control the legislature (and some might say the judicial, as well), and he'll have advisors to tell him to do smart things. And in the meantime, then, Dean can be Dean - he can, like I said, energize, motivate, inspire people. Much as he has already done.
Also, I had read that someone was like, "I may not for sure that Dean can do a great job, but I have to feel as though I can give him that chance." And you know, maybe that's how I feel, too. I say, give him that chance to succeed. He certainly can't do anything worse than our current President, and while that should in no way be the true measure of any candidate, it does give me cause to want to take this leap of faith.
What is sad about the Dean campaign is that he seems to be pulling apart the Democratic party. Not that i think that that is fault at all, and in the interest of bringing something new and yet still valuable to the table, I say tear the beast asunder, Howard. No, instead I am frustrated that the DNC isn't moving with the times, so to speak, or is reading the writing on the wall. I mean, if Dean does have such a following, what does that say about where the DNC is? Maybe they really ought to take the risk and consolidate their resources so that Dean can win. At least the nomination, really. Let's move this party forward. The people seem to want it, and goddamned if something doesn't need to happen in this country that's interesting, or dynamic, or - well, just something.
And again, I think in my fervor, I've gone incomprehensible. Damn, I hate it when that happens.
And in one last bit of... well, something, here is an email that my roommate sent me last night. I don't know why he did, as i don't think I'm suffering from hermorraghic (sp?) fever, but just the same, I'll file this under "things that are nice to know, just in case".
From Armand:
Hi Dan,
Did you know that there are over 250,000 cases of Hemorrhagic Dengue Fever
each year. It can cause death from bleading [sic] everywhere. It is caused by
a mosquito born virus related to the yellow fever virus. Yellow fever
causes "black vomit" from bleading [sic] into the gastrointestinal tract. That
sounds nice. These are also related to West Nile by the way, but I don't
think they are related to monkey pox.
Armand
There you go kids, look out for mosquitoes.
- dan
email me
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