Cherokee Nation?

Here's a little game for you to play. Next time you're in a bar and you meet someone new, when the question of ethnicity comes up (which it always does), count how many times you hear the word "Cherokee."

I guarantee you'll hear it every time.

"Oh, I'm part English, French, Irish, and Cherokee."

"My mom is Scottish and Belgian, and my dad is Welsh, Greek, and Cherokee."

"Me? I'm Tahitian, Laotian, Lithuanian, and a little Native American."
"Native American? What kind?"
"Cherokee!"

We truly do live in a Cherokee Nation!

These Uniforms Just Scream "Indian Sympathy"

It's comforting to know that although our country effectively stamped out an entire culture, one portion of that culture got busy with at least one member of every single family tree in the nation, ensuring that their blood would forever course through the veins of everyone from frat boys and club girls to sad-bastard singer-songwriters and love-bead-selling professional hula-hoopists.

"O Great Father Sun, Please Shine Upon Your Cherokee/Danish Earthchild in This Journey of Great Tribulation Called Burning Man"

But why just the Cherokees? Were they more prone to feel the effects of beer goggles than all other tribes? They had to have been; have you seen what your ancestors looked like after that ocean voyage and the good times they had at Ellis Island?

Seriously Tore-Up Immigrants

Why weren't any other tribes making babies with white people? No one ever says "I'm part Belorussian, Finnish, and Pokanoket," or "Spanish, French, Albanian, and Ho-Chunk." I think the answer is to be found in Linguistic Darwinism. People simply like to say "Cherokee." It sounds strong and gentle at the same time. Tough, yet poetic. Badass, yet ready to shed a solitary tear at the drop of a bag of trash. Okay, so Iron Eyes Cody was actually a Sicilian, but c'mon! That's what we're talking about here, people... Accepting each other for the Native Americans we all deep down truly believe we are. But I digress. Linguistic Darwinism holds that the human mind subconsciously predicts what words or types of words its owner's kin will enjoy repeating or at least will have no trouble repeating, and leads the person to gravitate toward people called by that word, eventually mating with them and providing a secure future of delightful and culturally with-it conversation for their hipster offspring.* When was the last time someone told you they were part Tlinget or Miwok? That's right, never.

*I am totally making this up.

"Stands With a PBR" and "Dances With Whorish Sorority Sisters"

So what I'm wondering is, where are all the free scholarship students? I can't think of a single instance when someone told me they were one of the People and then followed that up with tales about how bitchin' college was without the stressful burden of tuition. If I was part Cherokee, you'd better believe I'd be up in that Family History Library in the SLC looking to prove that shit and score my formazione libera. I'm pretty sure that's how this guy learned to speak English, solve complex equations, and order the perfect martini:

"Owl. Grey Owl."

Hey, Pierce, a truly integrous actor would have said to the casting agent, "Hey, thanks, but I don't think this role is really for me." Now, Daniel Day Lewis as Hawkeye... AWESOME. Friggin' mountains of awesome.

I would TOTALLY stay alive no matter 

what occurred for this guy.

Speaking of Hawkeye Pierce, here's a photo of a tattoo that completely reaffirms my belief that whomever coined the phrase "no regrets" should totally be given a Nobel-Super-Wise-Person Prize:

"Uh, yeah, man, your new tat is wicked awesome. You wanna borrow my power sander now?"

So seriously, play the game, have a good time, and don't forget who told you about it: Chief Laughing Bull of the Winnebagos.