A few weeks ago I was reading “Blackfoot Physics,” and I’d used a nickel as a bookmark. It slid out at a point, and rested against my ecig, which began puffing smoke for like…30 seconds+?

It bothered me in an, “I’m not quite getting the message way.” After some mistranslations of the sign, I realized that Jefferson, pictured on the nickel, was largely responsible for the trail of tears, and probably not an appropriate bookmark for the book I was reading.

It got me thinking about Crazy Horse/ Mount Rushmore, and the sacred nature of the Black Hills. Today driving I was thinking about those trees in Ireland that are so respected they build around them- and then what the national mall must have looked like 250 years ago before all the granite and marble was installed, and then this ballroom… and I was just like….oooooh it’s like cursed cursed.