Plastic Shamen Alert (cultural appropriation) PLEASE DISTRIBUTE

He appears to go by Harley Swift Deer, Star Warrior, Twisted Hair, Soke Reagan 

contact them at:info@dtmms.org

From His Dojo Website:

CONTACT
PHONE
EMAIL
Soke Reagan
(480) 905-1779
DTMMS
(480) 443-3851

DTMMS, the Deer Tribe Metis Medicine Society, is our parent organization, committed to the healing of Mother Earth and her children.

We invite you to visit the Deer Tribe Gun Club, also run by Soke Reagan as part of his commitment to providing complete self defense instruction.

Plastic Medicine People Circle:

Debunking of Swiftdeer Star Warriror:

From phoenixnewtimes.com  Originally published by Phoenix New Times Jun 13,
2002  2002 New Times, Inc. All rights reserved.

Sacred Orgasm  The followers of Harley Swift Deer Reagan call him a lot of
things ? a sex guru, a shaman, a Cherokee, a patriot. His critics have more
colorful names for him.  By Susy Buchanan

Lucy didn't pay $1,200 and fly across the country just to watch naked
strangers in cowboy hats probe their anuses.

A widow and business owner from the Deep South, Lucy says that, since her
husband's death, she has been fascinated with spirituality and is intent on
exploring a variety of religions and belief systems.

"I believe there is a connection between our spiritual and sexual beings,"
she says, "not the way most humans interpret it, not through intercourse,
but a sense of being at bliss. That's what I was looking for."

It was that search that brought her and her then-fianc to Scottsdale this
spring, where they had enrolled in what was billed in slick brochures as a
seminar on "sacred sexual living."

But Lucy didn't find anything sacred about it. Day one was enough to make
her suspect that she and her fianc had unwittingly enlisted in a New Age
sex club. Day two, she says, confirmed it.

"The first night we were told to dress like we were on a hot date," she
says. "We walked in and there were all these ladies in negligees with their
breasts and a lot of other things exposed."

After attendees filled out extensive paperwork, including a nondisclosure
clause (Lucy is not her real name), the organizers spread towels on the
floor and placed a pipe and tobacco in the center of the room. Then, Lucy
says, the two female instructors quickly set the tone for the weekend. One
pulled her dress above her knees, sat on the couch "and totally flashed
everything. I mean everything." The other instructor was wearing a bra with
no cups. Lucy says she didn't know what to think.

"On one side were these breasts just hanging out there, on the other side
this woman who had never shaved in her life..."

Lucy tried to be open-minded. "I thought well, OK, maybe they're just
trying to make us more comfortable with being naked. I was trying to
convince myself there was nothing wrong with this."

Then came Saturday: Cowboy Day. Lucy and her fianc arrived late, with the
intention of asking for their money back and leaving. They walked into a
room full of people wearing nothing but cowboy hats and bolo ties. The
instructor from the previous night's cupless bra had switched to assless,
crotchless chaps. Lucy decided to wait politely until the exercise was over
and then ask for a refund. It wasn't easy, as the exercises were more
intense than the previous evening's warm-up session.

"The smell was terrible," she remembers. "They wouldn't allow anyone to
flush the toilet, and there was no air conditioning. Everyone was sweating
like you wouldn't believe. It was disgusting."

But before Lucy could talk to anyone, the class segued into the next
exercise  chakra cleansing, which the instructor demonstrated with a male
partner. "The guy grabbed the lady, laid her on her back on the floor, took
her legs and made a figure four with them, putting the bottom of her foot
against her knee. She had her total crotch open, and you could see
everything."

Lucy remembers the instructor saying, "'Now we will clean chakra number
one. Put your finger in the first chakra, inside her vagina, and turn it
clockwise 21 times.'"

"She was explaining this; meanwhile, the woman was getting a great
masturbation right in front of us."

Lucy and her fianc tried to leave again but were coaxed into a back
bedroom, where they were told they could try the exercise in private. They
also were told that the only way to get their $1,200 back was to complete
the course.

Once inside the bedroom, Lucy and her fianc were weighing their options
when two bisexual women knocked on the door. "They asked us if they could
do us. They said they really wanted to have sex with us, right then and
there."

Lucy declined, only to be scolded by the couple. "They said, 'C'mon, you
have to be more open.' We walked out of the bedroom, and everyone was naked
on the floor with their fingers inside their butts."

Welcome to the world of Harley Swift Deer Reagan, leader of an
international empire of martial arts, guns, sweat lodges and sacred
orgasms, all headquartered in a quiet business park in North Scottsdale.

Reagan calls his followers the Deer Tribe Metis Medicine Society. He calls
their activities the Sweet Medicine Sundance Path. And he calls himself a
patriot, a sorcerer, a cowboy, a Cherokee, an alchemist, and an elder of a
mystical order, dating back to prehistoric times, called the Twisted Hair
Society.

His critics, who include just about every major figure in Indian Country,
call him a charlatan and a cult leader. They say he's more sham than
shaman, and that he appropriates Native American rituals and ceremonies and
markets them to New Agers.

Reagan's sex seminars  which he calls Chulaqui Quodoushka, supposedly a
regimen of Cherokee and ancient Mayan methods of aligning spiritual and
sexual energies  draw most of the fire. But there's more than sex seminars
to be concerned about. To his followers, Reagan is a near messiah. And he
may well have more in common with Jim Jones than with Hugh Hefner. Reagan
sees dark days ahead for America, and  between orgasms  he is quietly
training a tribe of warriors for the battles ahead.

"From 2004 to 2011 will be a time of real testing and a challenge of
people's hearts, minds, bodies and spirits," Reagan warns from his
Scottsdale dojo. "It's called the razor's edge." Reagan adds that he
intends for his warriors to be ready. "That's also why I include a lot of
firearms training. I see us moving toward a civil war."

And where Reagan goes, his Deer Tribe follows.

Reagan sits in a corner of his dojo behind a low table. He wears a
patchwork stars-and-stripes shirt and a baseball cap that shades his steely
blue eyes. He looks a little like Roy Clark with a bee up his ass. Reagan's
62 years have been rough on him, and despite the grit of his gravelly voice
and piercing stare, he looks much older than his age. His long arms are
dotted with liver spots, and his face is splotchy and bloated. But he's the
first to boast that he's lived more in his six decades than most people do
in six lifetimes.

"The day I was born was a very exciting day. My mother was riding a little
pinto pony; my dad was riding a little Morgan," he says as a twitch of a
smile flutters like a moth through the silver hairs of his moustache. "The
mare that my mother was riding was also with foal. All of a sudden, my
mother started going into labor pains, so my dad jumped off the horse and
went over to the shade. As soon as I was born, the little foal was born,
and consequently, my dad reached in his saddle bag and pulled out a Dr.
Pepper, poured it in a bottle and gave it to me. I jumped on the foal and
we rode off into the sunset."

He chuckles, reaching for a lighter concealed inside a red plastic shotgun
shell and lighting one of an endless parade of clove cigarettes, which move
seamlessly from his lips to a turquoise ashtray in the form of a
rattlesnake. Like any raconteur of tall tales worth his salt, Reagan
delights in the telling of the story, not in the truth behind it. And he is
a man with a lot of stories to tell.

Reagan is cantankerous and riveting. He is outspoken and outlandish at
times, grandfatherly at others. Turquoise and gold cling to his wrists like
scabs; his fingers bear chunky rings. There's an electric-blue
Para-Ordnance .45 pistol on his belt, the handle engraved with a red, white
and blue eagle and "Gunnie" in black gothic script. "Gunnie" is what he
goes by on the range, and nowadays he admits, "People call me Gunnie more
than they do Swift Deer."

He seems to have tired of the spiritual rhetoric with which he has filled
books and the heads of his followers for the past 20 years. He'll discuss
it, but he's much more animated when he starts describing some of his views
for which he is less well-known  like the mess that the liberals have made
of the United States. Anger spits from his lips as he growls about the
government, the U.N. and the Latinos who are ruining this country for the
true patriots.

Reagan says he was born in Texas, of mixed Irish and Cherokee blood. He
straddled the two cultures, appearing white but raised Indian. His greatest
influence as a young man was his grandmother Spotted Fawn, a Cherokee
medicine woman.

It was she who arranged for Reagan to be sexually initiated by an adult
woman when he was 14 years old. It was this "Phoenix Fire Woman," or sexual
teacher, who showed Reagan the art of making love, the nine different kinds
of vaginas and penises men and women possess, the five levels of orgasm and
other ancient secrets, which, half a century later, his disciples are
hawking in seminars  like the one Lucy attended  across North America and
Europe.

Reagan says he joined the Marines in 1959 after being kicked out of the Air
Force Academy. His habit of staying up all night and sleeping during the
day  plus his love of masturbation  made it difficult for him to fit in
with the rest of the recruits. Reagan completed four tours in Vietnam as a
gunnery sergeant before being blown out of a helicopter by enemy fire and
tumbling 300 feet to the earth. He then was sent to recover at the Bethesda
Naval Hospital and was discharged in 1969.

Killing, he says quickly, didn't bother him at all. What did upset him was
the way he was treated upon his return. Reagan says he felt "betrayed, not
by my country, but by my government."

"I had dog shit thrown on me. I had people piss on my utility bag that I
was carrying my clothes and stuff in. I was called baby killer, child
killer, rapist, a war monger."

After his stint in the service, Reagan goes on, he became a Mormon, a
philandering husband, a father of five sons, a doctor of philosophy, a
world-champion martial artist, a shape-shifting sorcerer and, at some
point, a secret agent.

"I'd really rather not go there," he says solemnly. "Let's just say I did
black operations for the U.S. federal government, and that's all I'm
saying. I was recruited in the Marine Corps, and I had a great deal of
blame and shame about that  not about my service as a Marine, but the
other things I was doing in covert operations. And I thought I was really
doing something for the country when I found out it had nothing to do with
the country, but the government and their own personal agenda."

About his roles as a husband and father, Reagan is candid. "I was a
horrible father, a horrible example, a very violent, rash, disturbed human
being. In fact, I was not a human being. I was a typical two-legged
animal."

What saved him, he says, although too late for his family, was a
relationship that would forever change him, a friendship and apprenticeship
with Navajo Shaman Grandfather Tom Two Bears Wilson.

Wilson taught Reagan to be a sorcerer. He taught Reagan how to shape-shift,
which he still does today as a party trick when he's feeling frisky. On one
occasion, Reagan claims, he and his girlfriend were high on peyote at his
house in California when his wife came in and caught him in mid-shift, with
black wings coming out of his head.

Native burial remains (cultural appropriation)

COURTHOUSE NEWS SERVICE-A Hawaiian woman has standing to challenge the disinterment of native burial remains, the Hawaii Supreme Court ruled.

     Paulette Kaleikini sued Hawaii's Department of Land and Natural Resources to stop a plan to disturb Native Hawaiian burial grounds, which were discovered at the site of General Growth Properties' commercial development at the Ward Village Shops on Oahu Island.

     The island's burial council approved a burial treatment plan, but Kaleikini objected. She did not find success in the trial court or the appeals court, but Chief Justice Ronald Moon of the Hawaii Supreme Court ruled that although her appeal is now moot, the law required Kaleikini to receive a contested-case hearing.

     Moon vacated the appeals court order dismissing Kaleikini's appeal and sent the case back to trial.

     "The public has a vital interest in the proper disposition of the bodies of its deceased persons, which is in nature a sacred trust for the benefit of all," Moon wrote.

What is a twinkie (cultural appropriation)

http://www.geocities.com/planettwinkie/WhatIs.html

What is a Twinkie?

What exactly is a twinkie? Is it a delicious cream filled snack cake? The nickname of the Minnesota Twins, or an Asian American who acts like a whiteman? Well, a Twinkie may be many of those things but when real live indians talk about Twinkies, they're not talking about any of these things.
A Twinkie is a person, almost always a white, privileged person who peddles spiritual junk food. Just as the Hostess version is all sugar and chemicals containing very little nutritional value, the New Age Twinkie is artificial and valueless in a spiritual sense.

Twinkies all have different interests, but there is one trait that they all have in common: an auditory impairment that makes them incapable of hearing or comprehending the word, "No!" This impairment is particularly prominent when a person of lower social class, especially Native Americans, are uttering the word. Some Twinkies have been known to remain completely oblivious to the fact that an entire Nation, the Lakota, have declared War on them. Cat owners may be able to relate to this phenomenon. A cat can hear a can opener three blocks away, but its auditory canals cannot pick up the word, "No!" while engaged in climbing the curtains. The feline brain is approximately the size of a walnut, so one can deduce that Twinkies probably posses brains of comparable size.

Another common trait is a sense of entitlement. Twinkies are often heard preaching about how everyone is entitled to Native American Spirituality. However, no one can have their graphics. It's a subtle distinction that often proves hard to grasp.

Twinkies always stick together. Whenever one Twinkie is exposed, all the other Twinkies rush to its defense with crocodile tears. They make elegant testimonials as to the Twinkies "good intentions" and its kind and "caring voice." It's a kind of professional courtesy among thieves. Good intentions are the New Age equivalent of a "Get out of jail free card". They are an all purpose excuse for any type of exploitation or charlatanism.

A fool and his money are soon parted. The Twinkie counts on this. Just like McDonalds, they know how to please the masses. They know how to mix just the right combinations of Christianity, psycho-babble, Astrology, re-incarnation, Wicca, crystal healing, Tarot card reading and astro-projection to appeal to the general public, desparate for spiritual enlightenment, but not really committed to doing anything that requires too much time or effort, especially on week-ends.

All Twinkies absolutely must have a fake Indian name. It's a must. This can be easily achieved by chosing two or more words from any column of the following table:

Animals Colors Cliches Birds Plants Relationship Indicators Misc

Wolf Blue Medicine Eagle Parsley Brother/Sister Moon Buffalo Red Shining Owl Sage Gramma/Grampa Morning Star Bear Grey Proud Hawk Rosemary Clan Mother Thunder Coyote Lavender Weaver Raven Thyme Chief Rainbow

For instance, Gramma Lavender Rainbow Owl Weaver or Chief Grey Morning Star Rosemary Medicine, or Sister Shining Blue Moon Buffalo Parsley would make really good Twinkie names. Now all you have to do is get yourself set up to accept Visa and Mastercard and you're on the road to spiritual fulfillment! Some people are so good at Twinkiedom that I've decided to start giving out awards for it. Visit the next page to see who's really out standing in the field.

Twinkie New Age Cult (cultural appropriating)

More info at: http://www.newagefraud.org/smf/index.php?topic=739.0


Begin forwarded message:

From: Andre Cramblit <andrekar@ncidc.org>
Date: April 10, 2010 10:11:34 AM PDT
To: Postposterous Blog <post@posterous.com>
Subject: Twinkie New Age Cult (cultural appropriating)

Hey Tamra,
Since the leader claimed to be a "Cherokee Medicine Man" the EBC attorney general can get the info to the appropriate people to take legal action no matter where they are on Turtle Island to take legal action against these people.
Dave

On Fri, Apr 9, 2010 at 11:15 PM, NDN News <Tamra@ndnnews.com> wrote:

Hey everyone,

Looks like a twinkie newager cult to me. They are mixing all kinds of things. Looks like another group like Brooke Medicine Eagle’s camps.

Not sure what EBC has to do with this one, these folks are in Oregon.

Everyone now days has to make a buck of culture and traditions, it never seems to end.

I will send it to Mo and Graywolf, see if they want to do something with it.

Hope everyone is doing well. I’m working like crazy 60-70 hr work weeks right now, so barely keeping up with things right now.

Tamra


From: Save The Sacred Sites Alliance [mailto:davidckitchen@gmail.com]
Sent: Friday, April 09, 2010 2:35 PM


To: Marcie; andre cramblit
Cc: tamra
Subject: Re: Fw: Re: Website

Hey Folks,

It's Dave I called the Eastern Band of Cherokee Attorney General's Office.

They were interested enough for me to forward it to them.

So I did.

That's about all I know for now. They won't tell me what they did.

They'll just quietly take care of it , if they decide they need to.

Dave

On Fri, Apr 9, 2010 at 2:47 PM, Marcie <catehokte1@yahoo.com> wrote:

Hey sis, check out this site and let me know if any of these people are legit. I doubt it and feel it is another James Ray type deal but before I jump in with a nasty letter, I want to be sure my take was right.

h




Twinkie New Age Cult (cultural appropriating)

Check out the group's website here:  ttp://www.nanish.org/

Hey Tamra,
Since the leader claimed to be a "Cherokee Medicine Man" the EBC attorney general can get the info to the appropriate people to take legal action no matter where they are on Turtle Island to take legal action against these people.
Dave

On Fri, Apr 9, 2010 at 11:15 PM, NDN News <Tamra@ndnnews.com> wrote:

Hey everyone,

Looks like a twinkie newager cult to me. They are mixing all kinds of things. Looks like another group like Brooke Medicine Eagle’s camps.

Not sure what EBC has to do with this one, these folks are in Oregon.

Everyone now days has to make a buck of culture and traditions, it never seems to end.

I will send it to Mo and Graywolf, see if they want to do something with it.

Hope everyone is doing well. I’m working like crazy 60-70 hr work weeks right now, so barely keeping up with things right now.

Tamra


From: Save The Sacred Sites Alliance [mailto:davidckitchen@gmail.com]
Sent: Friday, April 09, 2010 2:35 PM


To: Marcie; andre cramblit
Cc: tamra
Subject: Re: Fw: Re: Website

Hey Folks,

It's Dave I called the Eastern Band of Cherokee Attorney General's Office.

They were interested enough for me to forward it to them.

So I did.

That's about all I know for now. They won't tell me what they did.

They'll just quietly take care of it , if they decide they need to.

Dave

On Fri, Apr 9, 2010 at 2:47 PM, Marcie <catehokte1@yahoo.com> wrote:

Hey sis, check out this site and let me know if any of these people are legit. I doubt it and feel it is another James Ray type deal but before I jump in with a nasty letter, I want to be sure my take was right.

h


Mardi Gras Natives (cultural appropriation)

Talk about irony. Some folks who dress up for Mardi Gras in pseudo-American Indian attire say they want legal protection against people they say have misappropriated their images without permission.
The fake Indians use names like the “Monogram Hunters tribe” and the “Yellow Pocahontas tribe.” They wear feathers on their heads, call themselves chiefs, and have a grand tribal council.

As 
Indianz.com writes
, “Many costumes contain elements of traditional Indian regalia that could be found at powwows across the country.
“But the Mardi Gras ‘Indians’ say they are the ones being exploited. Their likenesses, and costumes, are being used in photographs without their consent and they usually don’t have any recourse.”

Howard Miller, who’s referred to as “big chief” of the “Creole Wild West tribe” in 
a New York Times article
 on the issue told the paper his “tribe” has “a beef” with those who exploit their images.
One must wonder: did the “big chief” get permission from real American Indian tribes to use their regalia, traditions, and cultures to celebrate the drunken New Orleans festival?
According to the Times, the pseudo-Indians have existed for at least a century, and they started as a way to “pay homage” to American Indians.
Looks like they’ve come full circle.

Making Fun of Native Spirituality (cultural appropriation)

 

 Chasco Fiesta Executive Director Wendy Brenner recently made news when she denied the float application for the Republican Party. The reason she gave was that floats aren't permitted in the Chasco street parade if they reflect certain subject matter, such as a political campaign, social issues, or special interest groups. The Krewe of Chasco, however, which stereotypes Native Americans and mocks Native American spirituality, meets the parade criteria.  Full at: http://tinyurl.com/yfcb57

Shredding & Culture (community)

RYAN WASHINGTON, 21, said he can perform over 100 gravity-defying tricks on his skateboard, which has given him a place of honor at the local skate park. “There is no limit to what you can do on a piece of wood with plastic wheels, he said. “Whenever I master a trick, I feel like I am on top of the world.”

Mr. Washington, a member of the Lakota Sioux tribe, started skateboarding at age 14 and quickly fell in love with a sport that requires tenacity. Elaborate tricks can include dizzying midair flips and twists, and mastering them takes the discipline to get back on the board after falling. Full story at: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/18/arts/artsspecial/18SKATE.html