Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Texas Chainsaw Massacre


"What can you say about a movie so horrific
even its title scares people away?"
--Stephen King


I
have seen it
and like it: The blood,
the way like Sand Creek
even its name brings fear,
because I am an American
Indian and have learned
words are another kind of violence.

This vocabulary is genetic.

When Leatherface crushes the white boy's skull
with a sledgehammer, brings it down again and again
while the boy's arms and legs spasm and kick wildly
against real and imagined enemies, I remember

another killing floor

in the slaughter yard from earlier in the film,
all the cows with their stunned eyes and mouths
waiting for the sledgehammer with fear so strong
it becomes a smell that won't allow escape,
I remember

the killing grounds

of Sand Creek
where 105 Southern Cheyenne and Arapaho women
and children, and 28 men were slaughtered by
700 heavily armed soldiers,
led by Colonel Chivington and his Volunteers.
"Voluteers".

Violence has no metaphors; it does have reveille.

Believe me, there is nothing surprising
about a dead body. This late in the 20th century
tears come easily and without sense:
taste and touch have been replaced
by the fear of reprisal. I have seen it

and like it: The butchery, its dark humor
that thin line "between art and exploitation,"
because I recognize the need to prove blood
against blood. I have been in places
where I understood "Tear his heart out
and eat it whole." I have tasted rage
and bitterness like skin between my teeth.

I have been in love.

I first saw it in the reservation drive-in
and witnessed the collective history
of America roll and roll across the screen,
voices and dreams distorted by tin speakers.

"Since then, I have been hungry
for all those things I haven't seen."

This country demands that particular sort of weakness:
we must devour everything on our plates
and ask for more. Our mouths hinge open.
Our teeth grow long and we gnaw them down
to prevent their growth into the brain. I have

seen it and like it: The blood,
the way like music
it makes us all larger
and more responsible
for our sins,
because I am an American
Indian and have learned

hunger becomes madness easily.


Sherman Alexie.........from Old Shirts & New Skins