Go Ask Your Auntie(s)

Colonialism got you down, and got you confused...and confused...and a little more confused (so confused) by the problems of living in an occupied territory? Attracted to a basic-ass white person AGAIN (AGAIN?!?!)? Trying to divest from oil money, only to discover SHIT IT'S ALL OIL MONEY?? Tempted by the irresistible lure of fancy comfy yoga pants? Your anti-colonial agony Aunties, Climax and Social, are here to untangle the colonial snares that keep you from committing your all to the obliteration of the state, the dismantlement of capitalism, and the fulfillment of decolonial lovin & snugglin with that hot hot HOT neechie you know is out there.... somewhere... sigh...

Dear Aunties,
I have a very embarrassing problem, and you are my last resort! I have trouble even writing this down, the shame is nearly overwhelming... I am attracted to English accents! I work with a middle manager from Manchester, and every time I hear him say, "cuppa tea, guv'ner?" I just want to tear off his red coat, powdered wig, and epaulets, and "think of England." I consider myself a badass Indigenous feminist from [NATION REDACTED], and just can't reconcile my politics with his captivating colonial cadence. What do I do?
- Weak in Winnipeg

Dear WiW,

First, thanks for writing in. While this is a deeply, horrifyingly, apocalyptically heinous problem to have, it's one that a lot of Indigenous people struggle with. White supremacy has inculcated our hearts, minds, the reptilian parts of our brains, and, clearly, the sexy-focused parts of our anatomy with an undeserved respect for and attraction to imperialism in all its forms, and it takes a powerful and critically-minded soul indeed to destroy its malicious influence. Personally, we blame such British whites as Patrick Stewart, Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Amy Winehouse, Julie Andrews, and that Lawrence of Arabia fucker* for indoctrinating us with a propensity towards pompiosity of parlance, even in cases where the owner of such an accent is unremarkable and/or vaguely nauseating in every other way.

Don't consider this a weakness, consider it a process. We suggest a vigorous deprogramming regime. The goal: to replace unearned attraction with extremely justified revulsion. The method we have used in the past requires stamina, perseverance, and a lot of antacids. Stock up on wasabi, and eat fistfuls of it whenever you think Britishly-minded thoughts. Give yourself a daily dose of the @crimesofbrits twitter feed to learn about and remember the horrors of English global violence. Develop an averse Pavlovian reaction to all things Queen & Country. And when you slip, and find yourself weak-kneed when Manchester Middle Manager bids you "top o' the morning!," don't treat yourself too harshly, mix yourself up a little of our Sage-Scented Lard Sugar Scrub (recipe below), have a hot bath, and scrub all traces of Anglophilia away.

This is not an insurmountable problem, WiW, and if you put your mind and wasabi to it, you'll eventually find yourself immune to counterfeit colonial charms.



  • 1 lb lard, or vegetable shortening (for a vegan alternative)
  • 1 cup dry, shredded sage
  • 6 cups sugar (to help the medicine go down)

Put on powwow music (we recommend Northern Cree). Soften lard and mash with fork until sploopy. Dump in sage, stir until the lard is infused with the ineffable Indigenous healing goodness. Slowly stir in sugar, until mixture becomes thick and (politically) consistent. Apply radically, scrub energetically, rinse thoroughly, watch it go down the drain with satisfaction.

Best of luck, WiW.

Anti-colonially yours,

Auntie Climax and Auntie Social



*We were trying to think of more problematically-sexy British ladies, but realized most of the POHMs (Prisoners of Her Majesty) with obvious accents were men- is this because colonially-accented ladies are perceived as snooty, frigid, uptight? It's not that these women don't exist, but often their accents are downplayed or Americanized. Weird.


Back 2 the Land: First callout for help!

by Vin Chiesel*

Going back to the land isn't easy. It's not like you jump aboard your robot space-unicorn of science and WHAM!** There you are, on the land, with the birds singing and the mice making you a meal of bannock, bison sausage and dill mustard. IF ONLY.

Molly and I have plans. Plans within plans. But to do our planning effectively, we need a temporary roof over our heads so we can build a permanent roof over our heads. An ante-shelter, if you will. A penultimate place of protective repose. In this case, also know as a basement.

My parent's basement, actually. And currently it is full to the brim of stuff my parents have been storing down there since my sibs moved out.

As of June 23rd, Molly is going to be busy for days, driving and blogging (driveblogging, drogging, bliving?) all of our worldly possessions across so-called Canada. Meanwhile, my brood and I will be flying home on June 24th. On the 25th, we need to begin the arduous process of moving parental detritus out of the basement so we can clean and repair said subterranean sanctuary.

Unfortunately we lack adequate muscle power. My father won't be there for some time. My mother broke her arm a while back and is still not healed up. Also, she is not very mobile. Basically, my parents can't (and shouldn't) help us. So it's just me, the city-boy husband I am dragging into rural reality (minus the kicking and screaming) and the baby. While this may surprise some of you, the baby will not actually be much help here.***

This is where you (possibly) come in. If you are in the amiskwaciy-wâskahikan (Edmonton) area, and you want to start getting involved in this land collective Métis in Space is kicking off, then we could seriously use your muscle!****

If you can be available that weekend to help us out, please get in touch at metis.in.space[at]gmail[dot]com! We will bannock you right up!

* Don't say I never did nothing for you, Moll Walker!

**Your robot space-unicorn of science is really only good for whiling away the time (http://unicorn.jocke.no/).

*** Other than moral support, of course. She's got cheeks for weeks, and that's going to cheer everyone up!

****You don't have to be asiniy awa (the Rock), but we would definitely accept Dwayne Johnson's help.