They Need to Call In a Shaman

Washington’s Puyallup Indian Tribe has made deals with demons; the demons being the State of Washington and the City of Tacoma.

As you already probably know, as of January, the entire state I live in went “Smoke Free”, banning lighting up in public buildings and withing 25ft of the doors and windows that access these areas.

Now, I say the entirety of the state, but the federally protected Indian Reservations are exempt, meaning their alcohol and tobacco shops and, most importantly, their casinos, are exempt.

The tribes dumped big money into the Citizen’s Initiative campaign to help get the smoking ban passed because they knew that markets being what they are, the smokers would stop going to their normal hangouts and wing-it on down to their Slot-Machine Teepees.

Unfortunately for the Puyallup Indian Tribe, they made a deal with the City of Tacoma a couple years back so that they could move their ‘riverboat casino’, the Emerald Queen, from a waterfront spot in the Port of Tacoma to a location much closer to Interstate-5, and therefore closer to the palefaces who are so willing to leave their wampum at the Slot-Machine Teepee.

Now the Pierce County Health Agency has begun issuing citations for smoking at their Fife location, saying that since the casino isn’t on federally protected land, the tribes now have to stop letting people smoke in that establishment.

And as is normal in America, a court case in ensuing.

So I’m going to attempt to break this down into language that maybe the Puyallup tribal leaders may understand:

You makem deal with palefaces to move your teepee to fairer land. Then you gave heap money the Sons fo the Great White Father to help them bind the hands of their fellow palefaces who makem big stink with their smokesignals. You hoped that handing them money paper to them would help you to gather wampum as far as the eye could see. You did not notice that all these palefaces speak with forked tongues and you have soiled the honor of your tribe.

You now hope that a paleface witchdoctor with heap paperwork will cure your tribe, but he will not. Your tribe will not be happy until your return to your own land and learn to stop dealing with the Sons of the Great White Father who treat you like buffalo chips.