When one thinks about “ancient” Native American civilizations and ruins… the thing is that… most of them, they weren’t ancient. The Inca were not fully conquered by the Spanish until 1572… for reference, the Mona Lisa was painted in 1502 and Martin Luther made the 95 Theses in 1517.. the “ancient” Aztec Empire was younger than the university of Oxford founded in the 11th century, Montezuma lived at the same time than Leonardo Da Vinci… There are castles that are younger than Machu Picchu, those cities were inhabited by millions just a few centuries ago, and some (Cuzco, México), many actually, are still inhabited today. People speak about the Ancient Maya as if it was some mysterious civilization that was lost, and while it was past its prime at the time of European conquest, the Maya still had city-states and were living in the same areas they live today.
There are still millions of people, right now, who speak Quechua, Nahuatl, and Maya in all their dialects, and I’m just talking about the three most well-known civilizations here… there are millions of Native Americans who still speak their languages and practice their culture and beliefs alive, both thriving and struggling today.
Talking about the “Ancient Inca” or “Ancient Aztecs” makes as much sense as talking about the “Ancient Dutch” or the “Ancient Swedes”, and it’s another way of erasing them, saying that they just aren’t around anymore just like say the Sumerians, or that they just weren’t relevant to world history. They were contemporaries to modernity and they’re still alive today.
You can talk about the Ancient Olmecs or Ancient Chavín though. Because the Inca and the Aztecs are relatively “modern” but their cultures were just the latest from a cycle of civilizations stretching millenia before Christ.
Goose Shit by Evil Mary Oliver Who Lives in Your Head
You do have to be good. In fact, you have to be perfect. Having even one perturbation will disqualify you from going to the grocery store. You are obligated to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting, backwards, in underwear made of red-hot puff adders. You can’t let that soft, fallible animal of your body love what it loves. Are you kidding? Tell me about despair, yours, and keep telling me, and don’t stop, or you’ll completely explode and go to jail, and then hell. Meanwhile the world goes on without you. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of hailstones are beating down on your head, pouring into the buildings and deep gutters, the corpse-laden mountains and the rivers– did you read that article about the one that turned bright yellow from pollution? Meanwhile the wild geese, hissing and shitting everywhere will not leave your yard. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, you can always get lonelier! And I can help. I call to you like the wild geese, harsh and intimidating, over and over announcing your place– oop, sorry, never mind, someone else took it.
