Académique Documents
Professionnel Documents
Culture Documents
by Byron W. Scott
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 2
Table of Contents
Forward…5
Prologue…7
Part 1
1 Something Good………….8
2 Buffalo River…………….11
3 Comanche………………..14
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 3
4 Portents………………….18
5 Time to Go………………22
6 Legacy…………………..26
7 Sun Father………………29
8 Halfway To Karnak…….31
9 Milvian Bridge…………35
10 Ali Raki-haji……………38
11 Troubadour……………..41
Part 2
1 Tyrants…………………47
2 Freedom……………….54
3 Maize…………………..58
4 Blue Flute……………...63
7 Ball Game……………..98
9 History……………….121
10 Antelope Mesa……….125
11 Vista Bonita………….130
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 4
12 Maria de Agreda……..134
14 Pope……………….....143
15 Liberty Tree………….147
Part 3
3 Voyager………………158
4 Lemmings……………162
5 Life…………………...167
6 Legends………………172
7 Silver Shadow………..176
9 Good Friends…………182
10 This Desert……………186
12 Bernalillo……….……..194
Epilogue….199
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 5
Forward
And editor once asked me about the title of this book. “The Songs part is self evident,”
The American Indians had a term for this existence of ours. They called it the Road of
Life. I find it to be an apt analogy, for along that road we find unimpeded straight-aways,
twists and turns, bumps, detours, and dead-ends. The term applies not only to the life of
the individual, but to generation after generation. From the dawn of human history, it has
Belize and Mexico and into the four corners area of the United States. Each Indian tribe
will insist that it has developed its own unique culture, but there are certain myths,
legends and beliefs that seemed to span the entire region. One of those myths is the pre-
Columbian belief that a bearded white man once lived with the Indians and then left them
and headed for the East. According to the legend, he would one day return to reunite the
two great peoples; the red man and the white. The Maya called this man Kukulcan; the
Aztecs and Toltecs called him Quetzalcoatl, the “feathered serpent.” The prophesied date
for his return in the Aztec calendar was Ce Acatl, which corresponds to the Christian year
1519, the year that Hernan Cortes appeared off the coast of Mexico. The Spaniards
destroyed nearly everything during the Conquest, and so very little remains of those
legends from the “high cultures”. But thanks to Frank Waters, who wrote The Book of
the Hopi, we have a compelling and comprehensive version of their legend—the Hopi
Pahana.
The prophesied date of Pahana’s return was the same as Quetzalcoatl’s. According to the
myth, if he did not return on that date, it would be hundreds of years more before his
The Songs from Long Road is an attempt to incorporate this legend into the historical
perspective.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 7
Prologue
If you happen to meet a mahu along your Road, you should stop and visit for a while.
Part 1
Hey guys,
It’s been a long time coming, but I’ve finally finished the Songs from Long Road. I’ve
divided the text into three parts because there are three CD’s. There are also three main
categories to the songs: history, American Indian mythology, and personal subjectivity.
There’s probably a little bit too much of the latter category, but I’ll let you decide about
that.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 9
The best place to start in any book about history is in the present. Why? Because that’s
Something Good
But hey!
You’ll find many good people who are going your way
USA
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 11
Western expansion played a major role in the early history of the United States. Circa
1865, Horace Greeley advised “Go West, young man!” And that statement reverberated
throughout this country for almost a hundred and fifty years. Gold had already been
discovered in California, and also in the Black Hills of North Dakota. For westward
expansion, there would be no holding back. No gold would ever be discovered in the
During the winter of 1874, General Ranald McKenzie and the US Cavalry caught the
Comanche and Kiowa Indians napping in Palo Duro Canyon in the Texas Panhandle. The
ensuing slaughter was not pretty. Needless to say, not everybody on the American
continent was thrilled with the westward expansion of the white man.
Comanche 1874
Today we’ll keep sliding back in time. This song takes place just before the Conquest.
Strange things are happening in Tenochtitlan, the Aztec capital. Moctezuma, the Aztec
I can’t take full credit for this song. Most of the sentences came from two sources; Great
River and Conquistadors, both written by Paul Horgan. This man could make absolute
poetry out of history. I merely did a little paraphrasing, rearranged a few words and put
them to a melody.
Portents 1517
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 19
Here at Tenochtitlan
As we go further back in history, we enter the realm of American Indian mythology. You
may have noticed a couple of names in the last two songs; Quetzalcoatl, from Portents,
and Pahana, from Comanche. The myth that a bearded white man would some day return
to set things right and reunite two great peoples was widespread throughout
Mesoamerica. As I have already pointed out, the most dynamic of these myths belong to
the Hopi Indians of NE Arizona. The Hopi possess four stone tablets that they’ve had for
hundreds of years; their Creation Tablets. According to the legend, the corner of one of
those tablets was broken off and given to Pahana, their white friend, so that when he
returned, there would be no mistaking his identity; Pahana will bring this stone piece with
him and the tablet will be made whole. The next few songs depict Pahana beginning his
journey.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 23
Time to Go 1388 BC
Legacy 1387 BC
Affect reality
Sun Father
Circa 1365 BC Amenhotep IV became Pharoah of Egypt. Right off the bat he took 1500
years of Egyptian religious beliefs and threw them out the window. He changed his name
to Akenaten, moved the capital from Memphis to a new city he built in the desert at
Amarna, and instituted worship of the sun. By doing so he totally insulted his priests and
everybody else in the Kingdom. He made foreign dignitaries stand in the hot sun until
Oh, that’s right. Our hero, Pahana, was heading that way.
There’s a whole lot of time that elapses between this song and the last. That’s because
there are a lot of songs that never got written. I was going to do one on Moses, in order to
include the religion of Judaism, and of course one on the coming of Christ. I think I’ll
Between 610 AD and 632 AD Mohammed established the religion of Islam. Within the
next 100 years it had spread across North Africa and into Spain, as well as to other
directions; to Turkey, Persia, and into Pakistan, which was pretty incredible for that span
of time. Although their march northward was stopped at Tours in France in 732, over the
next several hundred years the Muslims established top universities and contributed much
to world culture.
Their Christian minds are twisted, but they look to God’s words
He said they’re People of the Book, they deserve our good will
Viking ships are closing in; I can see them eye to eye
There is terror in their hearts; you can see their fear set in
Troubadour 1100 AD
I come lately from the Holy Land; the journey’s been long
They had raped and pillaged all through the Balkan states
Going to save the Holy Land from that wicked Muslim race
But the dumb beast turned south and I crossed the Lebanon
Now I had the time to talk with both Muslims and Jews
Now it’s true that I’m a pauper, I’m just dust in your eyes
Part 2
OK. You knew this was coming. I’ll give you a little break from all this history. Instead,
it’s time to subject you to some personal subjectivity. The thing about history is that one
can look back and see how we got here from there, but everybody seems to see it from a
Some of you may have seen on the late night TV infomercials a particular joker trying to
sell his health books. He talks about the pharmaceutical companies not wanting to make a
product that will cure any of us. After all, if they cure us of our illnesses then we won’t
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 48
be eating their pills anymore and then they won’t get rich off of us. Drug companies love
addiction.
History is the same way. World leaders won’t lead us to the Promised Land because if we
arrived there then we wouldn’t need leaders anymore and they wouldn’t be able to get
rich off all of us. So basically, we’ve got 5000 years of the same stuff happening over and
over again.
Tyrants is from my angry days. In a lot of ways, Western man has never gotten over his
crusader mentality.
Tyrants
and Overkill
Islamism, Zionism
of Palestinians
of AmerIndians
You couldn’t breathe the air nor ‘ford your fossil fuel
They think they own the world and they can buy and sell you
They stick their ism up their ass and they call it belief
I don’t think it really matters which political system we live under or what our religious
beliefs are, there are things we can do to make ourselves a better person. We kind of get
hung up in the pursuit of wealth and fame and forget that there are other goals to achieve.
Very simply put, the more we change ourselves, the more our perspective of the world
changes. There is still magic out there. We can find it and we can utilize it.
Freedom
Do what is right
Caught up in realpolitik
Don’t be no fool
Total freedom
You can find the road that will set you free
Don’t be no fool
Total freedom
Most of the world’s major civilizations started three to four thousand years before Christ
in major river valleys; the Yellow River in China, the Indus in India, the Tigris/Euphrates
in Iraq (Mesopotamia), and the Nile. There was fresh water, a ready food supply and
There were two main obstacles to overcome for the Americans. There were no pack
animals, no oxen or horses or mules or water buffalo to be beasts of burden. The animals
in America looked at the Indians and said, “Piss on you. Do your own work.” It really
didn’t matter because the second obstacle was that there was no convenient source of
grain. No wheat, barley, oats or rice. There was nothing to feed a growing mass of
people.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 59
The coastal people of Peru overcame these obstacles and were building monumental
public architecture by 3000 BC. They had a huge source of protein just off the beach.
Anchovies. Billions of them. They’d jump into your mouth if you held your jaw just
right. This was a pre-ceramic society, which made it hard to cook food, but they were
master weavers. They could weave baskets that would hold water. Some pretty incredible
women.
The people on the rest of the American continents kind of just languished. Everyday they
And then one of those incredible miracles happened around 1500 BC: The coming of
corn.
Teosinte was the predecessor of corn. It was a grass that would give off two or three
kernels. You’d have to plant a field the size of Texas to feed your family for a week. But
then something happened. God, nature, or a very skilled geneticist developed a plant that
would yield ears of corn. But there was still a major problem. The human body cannot
metabolize the protein found in corn. You could eat and poop to your hearts content and
still die of malnutrition. But mix in lime (from limestone, not the fruit), and corn becomes
Tortillas are earth, water, and corn. There is something very profound about that
relationship.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 60
Maize originated in Mexico, and within two hundred years had spread the length of North
This is the Mayan version of the coming of corn. In the Mayan language, corn and jade
are the same word, discernible only through context. A milpa is the little plot of land they
burn out of the jungle every spring in order to plant their crops. Enjoy.
P.S. Got a wedding anniversary this week-end. Look for Blue Flute on Monday or
Tuesday.
Maize 1500 BC
To be His scout
Circa 1200 BC a cataclysmic event shook the Mediterranean Sea. Seismic activity and a
stupendous volcanic eruption destroyed the Minoan civilization and rocked the Aegean
Islands. The sea level around the world may have risen by several feet. It’s a stretch, but
According to the Hopi, in order for them to be able to claim a place on this Earth, each
clan had to make a migration to the four pasos of the American continents; to the east and
west coasts, the tip of South American, and the Bering Sea surrounding the North Pole.
Implores us to summon
They bring the Sun so close that we must shade our eyes
Of the elements
The Indians of the American Southwest have done an excellent job of marketing
Kokopelli, the humpbacked flute player. He’s got a snappy name that has a good ring to
it. And he’s a cute little figure to boot. I’ve got a Kokopelli key ring and I drink coffee
Actually, there were two flute players; one grey, one blue, leaders of the Grey and Blue
Flute Clans. I can’t remember who is who, but evidently the other one never got famous
because no one can pronounce his name. His parents are probably still laughing about
that.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 68
I’ve got something different this week for my favorite readers. Instead of a song from
Long Road you get a chapter from one of my novels, Flipside, Part Two. We meet the
flute player on the plains of Peru. Yes, I agree, it’s an outlandish scenario. No, I don’t
believe it for a moment. But within the novel it’s all a dream, so take it with a grain of
FLIPSIDE
Chapter 4
The transition felt easy and natural as he slipped from one state of awareness into
another. And yet, at the very moment that he crossed the threshold, his previous world
faded into mystery, a slate wiped clean, a dream that he could no longer remember. It
He didn’t have the slightest inclination about where he had arrived. He was standing on a
gently rolling plain that stretched to fairly distant, stark brown, eroded mountains. They
in turn were followed by higher, mist filled ranges, violet in hue. The air was cool and
dry.
The plain immediately surrounding him was covered with shards of brown rock in a
consistently thin, even layer. Nearby, a shallow, dry arroyo snaked lazily into the broad
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 69
expanses. It had not seen water in months, perhaps years. There wasn’t the first sign of
vegetation anywhere along its course. The whole area was nothing but a desolate,
forsaken environment.
As he scanned the mountain flanks for a canyon that might contain water, he spied a
group of people not three hundred yards away. Their actions intrigued him, for they
Surely they didn’t intend to farm this arid plateau, he asserted to himself. He was
Intent on resolving the mystery, he began to make his way toward them, but instead he
became sidetracked by the sound of an alluringly beautiful melody. To his surprise and
enchantment, he found the source to be a humpbacked flute player; a creature that stood
three feet tall on thin, spindly legs and resembled a giant, blue grasshopper. He had a
human face with long antennae protruding from his forehead. He was obviously a master
“That was beautiful,” he complimented at the conclusion of the song. “What sort of
“I am a mahu!” the flute player exclaimed with a bubbling smile. His face appeared old
and wrinkled, but his voice was a surprisingly youthful falsetto. “The music from my
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 70
flute warms this cool mountain air. In my hump I carry seeds; those of maize, beans,
“Is that why those people are clearing rocks from the ground? To plant seeds?” the
“With the magic from my flute we can grow crops in any environment. But that is not our
sole purpose. We do not live here, but follow a star. These people are leaving their
signature on the ground as proof of their passage. I dare say the markings should last for
quite some time in this desert.” He flashed a broad grin before continuing. “As you can
see, other clans have already preceded us to this place.” He held out his arm in a broad
The wanderer half-heartedly scanned the featureless grounds before replying. “I see
“Perhaps there is nothing to be seen because of where you stand,” the mahu suggested.
“You of all people should know that. You shine brightly with the gift of the Sunfather. If
The grasshopper put his flute to his lips and the music poured swiftly but gently from the
instrument. The wanderer saw the notes as large, rainbow-hued bubbles that streamed
into the sky. When he reached out to touch one, he was lifted firmly from the ground and
swept into the air. A ticklish sensation in his stomach caused him to wrap himself around
The note rotated slowly until he found himself staring straight into the bright blue sky.
Apprehension gripped him when he realized that he was rapidly approaching a group of
intensely brilliant stars or lights. Or something. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was that
he was seeing.
And then an amazing transformation took place in his perception, and he realized that the
lights were actually people. Other people were walking the sky with him! Intuitively, he
understood that they were the same people who were clearing the rocks from the ground
below.
The magic note that he clung to rotated once again and his vision became focused on the
ground.
The plain was covered with markings! A multitude of lines ran straight and parallel for
miles or criss-crossed in random patterns. There were geometric figures and animal
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 72
figures, stylized birds and a whale. The figure presently being formed was that of a flute.
He realized that he was on the pampas of Peru. The Plain of Nazca was below him.
The flute playing ceased and the bubble that he was clinging to could no longer
regenerate itself. However, when it burst he did not fall. He analyzed the markings a
Myriad questions numbed his mind as he gazed back into the sky. Again he saw the
people as lights. While some of them remained perfectly still, others made varying
He watched in admiration. “They shine so very brightly. Like stars in the daytime.”
A proud glint and a tear of joy lit up the eyes of the grasshopper. “Yes. They use the gift
The wanderer understood the allusion well. By separating their awareness from their
bodies, these people could utilize their dual nature; the Earth Mother and Sun Father.
They needed no fancy gadgets or calculations to create the figures on the plain. They
simply directed their actions on the ground with the perspective from above.
“The figures on the ground I understand, no doubt being signatures of the migrating
“The lines represent many things,” the mahu answered. “Some mark the time of our
passage, while others time the passage of previous clans. But most of the lines are a
tribute to the Grandmother Spider. It is her web that surrounds the Earth to keep it from
separating. Where you find a great many lines intersecting on the plain, that is where the
power of the Spider Woman is greatest, for that is where the web touches the Earth”.
The concept of the web intrigued the wanderer, but before he could formulate another
question, they were interrupted by a deep, flapping noise accompanied by a gust of wind.
He was huge! He was every bit the size of the grasshopper, but exceedingly more
massive and threatening. While the mahu seemed unfazed, the wanderer stared stupidly at
the bird.
“I figured we would meet again, white boy!” the parrot cackled. “Yes, it’s me. Mochni!
Mochni, the parrot. Don’t look so surprised. You look stupid enough without your mouth
“I look much better with a touch of yellow, don’t you agree? It makes me feel so much
more zestful!” Mochni nodded his head from side to side and did a little dance. His eyes
sparkled.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 74
The wanderer didn’t give a shit about the yellow feathers. It was the outrageous size of
the bird that concerned him. He remembered Mochni as being a larger than normal
“How come you’re so much bigger than before?” he finally managed to ask.
“Because I’m younger!” the bird shouted, exceedingly pleased with himself. “I see that
you haven’t changed at all. You’re still as stupid as ever. Have you remembered your
name yet?”
“Can’t remember, huh? Well tell me, mister man of wisdom, from what time period do
you hail? How will you ever find your home in order to make use of all this knowledge
“Hasn’t that blue bug taught you anything? I haven’t changed! The conditions have. Ask
him. Time’s been shrinking his appearance for over four thousand years!”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 75
The wanderer was stunned. While he had certainly wondered about the mahu’s age, four
thousand years seemed like a preposterous assertion. He looked at the old grasshopper.
The mahu had been standing by impassively, apparently uninterested in Mochni, but a
smile broke out when he heard the wanderer’s question. “I’m not quite as old as he
claims,” he snickered. “But close! I am not a man, remember, but a grasshopper with a
“I apologize for laughing,” he said after regaining his composure. “But you look so
serious. Mochni and I become smaller as the Age passes. That is the way with ones such
as us. We are relics from the Third Age. Our purpose here is to guide.
“Of more immediate concern is why you speak to this foul creature. Especially since you
two have already met. My people will not listen to him. Surely…”
“That little band of wanderers!?” Mochni interrupted. “Hah! I spit on them! Most of your
urchins have already left you anyway. That’s why civilizations arise!”
The mahu ignored the protests of the parrot and looked at the wanderer. “Much like
myself, Mochni is a spreader of seeds. Only his are the seeds of doubt and confusion, for
he is the Deceiver.”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 76
The flute player began to protest, but the parrot cut him off.
“Tell me, locust, do you know where I first met this time walker? It was in the future at
Tenochtitlan! That’s right. He was admiring the way Cortes deals with the native people.
While you and your puny little clans claim this land by walking the breadth of the
continents, north to south and east to west, your friend here knows that it is only wasted
effort. It will all come to naught! Absolutely nothing! The white ‘gods’ will claim
ownership of the land by simply planting a flag, and will then proceed to trample the
Earth asunder. Only when there is nothing left will they allow your people their freedom
He cackled derisively as he turned towards the wanderer. “If you came here to spy on
these stupid natives, white man, you would do much better to spend your time at
Tiwanaku. There, at least, you can learn what they are capable of accomplishing. You
will learn nothing whatsoever by staying with these pathetic rag—a—muffins, these…”
“They are Hopi,” the wanderer interjected sternly. “Why don’t you just leave?”
“Hopi! That is a good name,” the mahu concurred with a thoughtful smile. “’People of
peace.’ That is a fine title for those who heed the word of the Creator. We really must talk
further, my friend.”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 77
“We could if this parrot would quit squawking in our ear,” the wanderer replied.
Without further ado, the mahu purposefully raised the flute to his lips. Sparkling, opaque
Mochni’s eyes shone with terror. “I blame you for this, time walker! I’ll get you for this!”
he shouted. “That bug won’t always be around to protect you.” He was then lifted
forcefully from the ground and whisked away by the notes. Within seconds he had
“Well, that’s certainly one good way to get rid of the jackass,” the wanderer applauded.
“He is rather appalling, isn’t he? There simply is no debating that devil, for his words are
“I’m sorry,” he moaned. “But that parrot drains me. He leaves me twisted and frustrated.
“Mochni is like that. He brings out the worst in you. He plays upon your aspirations, your
fears and your insecurities, and tries to plant you with the seeds of confusion. But I really
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 78
must say, your race is a silly thing to worry about. All men are the same. They have life
“About your identity, I cannot help you. Is it true that you are lost in time?”
“I don’t know who I am or where I belong,” the wanderer admitted solemnly. “Perhaps
I’ve always been wandering. I remember certain historical events, so I must come from
“No; only my previous meeting with Mochni and a visit to Oraibi, where your people end
their migrations.” And in a petty pathetic state, too, he added to himself. The thought did
“Well, you are welcome to stay with us for as long as you’d like. You look tired. Perhaps
The mahu sat down on the ground and proceeded to play a soft, enchanting lullaby that
induced heavy drowsiness in the wanderer. He slumped back to find a more comfortable
Hey guys,
I meant to send this last Saturday but my typist pooped out on me. All she had to do was
weed eat, mow the lawn and bush hog the front forty, clean out the barn, tune up the car
and change the oil in the tractor, prepare three meals and put on her make-up. And of
course, bring me my beers. I tell you. Women these days. Mom would have had things
covered.
Be careful. Sam read this introduction before I could send it off, and now she’s going to
try and make it sound like I’m totally useless around here. She’s probably going to try to
make you believe that I don’t even refill the soap in the shower when it gets low. You all
know me. I wouldn’t do anything like that. I’m just not that devious. When that bar of
It just goes to show that the woman doesn’t have enough to do around here to keep
herself occupied. I’ll probably have to start drinking more beer to help keep her busy.
Where did you first read about the purple light (mist)? That’s right—Legacy.
Where did you first read about the converging lines? Halfway To Karnak! Boy, ya’ll are
good.
Keep paying attention. There’s bound to be a test when this is all over.
FLIPSIDE
Chapter 6
“I see him!”
“He’s opaque.”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 82
“He’s returning!”
“…materializing.”
The mist dissipated the moment he opened his eyes. He saw that the excited voices
belonged to a throng of people that had gathered around him. The mahu sat directly
across from him, a weak smile upon his face. His flute rested across his lap.
“Yes!”
The wanderer rubbed his eyes. “It’s a wonder I came back here and not to another time
slot.”
“I continued to play my song, even after you summoned the purple mist,” the flute player
explained. “I watched as it took you away. I surmised that if you had a beacon to focus
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 83
upon, you might have a chance to return. And it worked! My magic notes followed you,
Although memories were beginning to crystallize, it was still a struggle to keep his
thoughts from drifting. The crowd leaned forward, eagerly awaiting his word. Hesitantly,
He described a vast, absolutely flat, smooth plain, cream colored under a steel gray sky.
Three colossal pyramids hovered stationary above the landscape. His desire had been to
move closer in order to learn the reason why they remained suspended in the air, but he
had been unable to traverse the huge crevice in the plain, an enticing, black chasm that
soaked up all light. He had the oddest sensation that he had been within that crevice, yet
Eventually, he had lost interest in the pyramids as he became intrigued by the translucent
bubbles that came out of nowhere and yet seemed to be everywhere. The bubbles were
massive enough that he had considered using them to transport his body across the
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 84
chasm, but he was afraid that they wouldn’t be able to support his weight. He finally
came to associate the bubbles with the incessant music that he heard. Only then did he
sense that there was a two way stream from a mother source. He latched on and ended up
“Now that you mention it, it was a deeply rich blue, very enticing in some respects,
horrifying in others.”
“Now I understand why you have trouble recalling where you belong, why you have that
gap in your memory. You have described perfectly the Plains of Metamor. Within that
crevice there awaits a personal journey, unique to each individual. In most cases, it takes
years of preparation before one feels capable of challenging the chasm. It can be a very
dangerous journey, and you were gone a long time. I hope you know what you are
doing.”
Inwardly, the wanderer admitted to himself that he didn’t have the slightest clue as to
what he was doing, but he also had a feeling that he was on the verge of remembering
“The purple mist is the gateway to the seven worlds,” the flute player pronounced.
“Of the seven worlds, the Third and the Fifth are much like this Fourth World, and are
easy to maintain and relate to. The other four become increasingly alien. All of them are
unique. Metamor is the last world, and as its name implies, it is a transition. A
“The tendency for most men is to hover in the purple mist, only briefly touching on the
other worlds in their dreams,” the mahu continued. “Needless to say, you enter the Blue
World. But upon leaving there, something makes you trip, and you end up catching only
the fringes of the white light. You end up dancing through time with no control.”
Memories suddenly inundated the time walker. Of course! It was all so simple! When he
was in the purple mist, the Earth was the white light. If he would enter the very center,
the most intense portion of the glow, he would find his own time period. He would find
his home!
He felt that he was about to experience further revelations when the spell was broken by
“I know that you are probably eager to test the mist again, but since you are here now,
won’t you please spend the day with us? I, for one, would be delighted.” His enormous
The wanderer was touched. The mahu had helped him immeasurably. He had offered his
friendship and had shown him the way to return home. Of course he would stay the day.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said as he grasped the flute player’s hand. Whatever the
The wanderer stood and stretched. Several people in the crowd, up until then attentive
and polite, suddenly closed in on him, attempting to touch him. He felt a moment of
apprehension.
“They want to feel your clothes,” the grasshopper explained. “What can I say? They are
like that. They know that you come from the future and they are curious.”
Blue jeans and a sweat shirt, he reflected. Big deal. But he was also certain that no one
intended him any harm, and he felt silly about his nervous reaction.
The mahu chuckled. “You really need to lighten up, you know? I haven’t seen you truly
smile since you’ve been here.” He gave a friendly wink. “Think about it. Here you are
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 87
talking with a grasshopper, an unusually tall one at that, and you’re all frowns. And a
couple of days ago there was a mammoth parrot. You know?” The flute player nudged
him good-naturedly on the knee. “Smile! Laugh! You put too much pressure on
yourself.”
“I try to take things in stride,” the time walker moped. A couple of days ago? Had he
spent that much time in the Blue World? What in the world did he do while he was there?
The mahu smiled at him with fatherly admiration. “Do you still wish to visit Tiwanaku?”
A broad smile crossed the time walker’s face. Ancient even to the Incas, Tiwanaku was a
mystical lure that he could not refuse. His excitement began to mount.
But he immediately reverted to form and began to fret. He knew that the city was several
hundred miles from the Plain of Nazca, high up in the Andes Mountains near Lake
Titicaca. Exceedingly rough terrain separated them, and his enthusiasm began to dull as
Before he could respond, the time walker was engulfed by the music and carried away,
swiftly but light as the breeze. The next moment he found himself in a narrow alleyway
in a residential section of Tiwanaku. He was following the mahu towards a wider, sunlit
They passed by stalls of ducks and geese and booths full of fresh vegetables. The
wanderer noticed that they were beginning to attract considerable attention, not to
mention a ripple of confusion. While some of the people were respectful and reverent of
the mahu, and understandably curious about himself, he couldn’t shake the impression
Even so, they had gathered quite a following by the time they reached the outskirts of the
ceremonial center. The mahu paused there to let the magnitude of the city sink in. And
Across the moat the center was filled with massive platforms that were topped with
elaborate buildings and temples. Some of the structures utilized fifty ton blocks of stone
in a precise and vital architectural style. Inside one open temple stood a carved stone
monolith of a priest or deity, one of the two structures that he recognized. The other was
the Gate of the Sun, part of a larger temple complex that stood behind them. Although
smaller than the city of Tenochtitlan, Tiwanaku was on a grander, more dynamic scale.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 89
“The temple complex within the moat and the one behind us are ancient,” the mahu
announced. “They are already centuries old. Compare them to the more recent temples at
the far end of the court and you can see that the civilization is in decline.”
“The beginning stages of any civilization bring fresh, diverse ideas, and for a time great
deeds can be accomplished. But the survival and prosperity of society requires
specialization; food production, masonry, crafts, government. Laws are enacted and the
rules are expected to be obeyed. Children are taught to conform. As society becomes
more structured, laws become more inclusive. And when individual perception and
perspective are tuned to a narrow band to fit the rules, creativity begins to erode and
abilities decline.
“The early leadership of Tiwanaku learned that ritual could focus attention, and for a time
they were able to maintain momentum. The masses were misled into believing that they
kept the true faith, when in reality their thoughts were tuned to the building of the city
and maintenance of the culture. Instead of the Creator, they worship a monument to
themselves.”
“A what?”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 90
“A free society.”
“Well…”
“The Creator has given each one of us the gift of unlimited perspective. True freedom. It
is up to us to balance and maintain the entire gift by utilizing each side of awareness, the
Sunfather as well as the Earthmother. Many people here cannot see us now because they
have not polished their link to the Sunfather, and that is sad. What is sadder is that they
“But the monolith in the temple depicts a priest holding pahos, male and female. Surely
they keep open their door to the Creator,” the wanderer protested.
“If they walked with the Creator, there would be no need for idols, no need for
pretensions. Listen to me!” the mahu exclaimed suddenly. “I’m beginning to sound like
you. So serious!
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 91
“But I believe that I have answered the questions that Mochni raised. Your concern the
other day was not so much about being a white man as it was about being a traitor and
“You would not be here otherwise. Let’s say that it is a prerequisite for what you do,
although it intrigues me that you choose to visit the high cultures. Be careful that you do
not escape the clutches of one civilization, only to be trapped by another. Remember,
only freedom can lead you to the mysteries that you need to uncover.
“Come now,” he prodded jovially. “I will show you my favorite place in this city.”
They made their way across the moat and into the tangled web of the temple complex.
The soldiers and priests at the gates let them pass unmolested, as if they feared or were in
awe of the mahu, but they kept the following masses out. Many of the walls that they
passed were covered in murals, but the wanderer caught only a casual glimpse of the
imagery because he was afraid of losing sight of the fast moving grasshopper.
They finally came to rest inside the sunken court, another part of Tiwanaku that would
survive the years. The forty by fifty foot court was eight foot deep, comprised of blocks
of stone that weighed from five to fifty tons each. At least sixty human faces carved out
of stone protruded from the walls. Painted in natural pigments, they were completely life-
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 92
like and represented people from around the globe, from Africa, Europe, Asia, Australia,
and America. The craftsmanship was superb, and with very little effort, the wanderer
could imagine the faces imbued with the life force, staring thoughtfully and serenely back
at him.
“Every continent on the face of the Earth is represented here,” the wanderer mumbled in
“During the beginning stages of the city, the people had not yet strayed so far from the
Sunfather. There were still many who possessed the ability to see the lines of the
Grandmother Spider. A few of those people knew how to grasp those lines. The strands
carried them across the sea or to wherever they wished to go. When they returned, they
carved the likeness of those they met on their journeys. The murals on the walls we
passed depict some of their stories. There haven’t been any new faces now for several
hundred years because the present people can no longer isolate the lines of the Spider.”
“You, on the other hand, give me hope for the future, for you utilize your dual aspects.
You are able to see my people as they truly are, spirit fire from the Sun, as well as their
Earthly, bodily aspect. You walk the sky and have the ability to see Mochni and myself.
It is people like you who give us stature. The fewer people there are who are capable of
seeing us, the smaller we become. We are truly in the eye of the beholder.”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 93
“For the same reason that many Tiwanakans don’t see us now; your attention was turned
“Do they touch the Earth anywhere near here? Can you show them to me?”
They departed the city and then followed a lightly worn footpath across the rust colored
hills of the Altiplano, and for the first time the wanderer became aware of the extreme
altitude. He was having difficulty catching his breath in the cold, thin air and it was
beginning to make him feel weak and sluggish. He stumbled along as if he was drunk,
while the mahu skipped effortlessly along in front of him, which made his mood even
more ill-mannered.
“Is this the place?” he asked irritably when they finally came to a halt.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 94
Although the wanderer could discern no difference in that spot from the rest of the vast
plain, he had to admit that he no longer felt sluggish. In fact, he felt just the opposite;
“I want to convey my good wishes, for I believe this is the moment of our parting,” the
mahu announced solemnly as he held out his hand. “I am happy to have met a man from
The wanderer was shocked and confused by the pronouncement and was reluctant to take
the flute players hand. He had grown very fond of the hunchbacked grasshopper; had
come to think of him as being a friend and mentor, and he had no intention of leaving
him now.
“I know your curiosity. You will grab hold of one of the lines and then you’ll be gone.
You would not otherwise be satisfied,” the mahu explained. “And once you leave, you
“I’ll be back! The other people returned to carve the faces. I’ll return.”
The mahu shook his head sadly. “No. You will get lost. You will not return.”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 95
“You can play your flute and I’ll follow your music back,” the wanderer persisted. Why
“I’m sorry, but in this instance I’m afraid my song will be needed for other purposes.”
Other purposes? In a bad mood to begin with, the wanderer became extremely
exasperated. He sat down on the ground in a snit. Hell, he didn’t see any damn lines to
begin with!
“My music will be needed to show you the lines,” the grasshopper explained, obviously
amused by the time walkers stubbornness. He sat down on the ground and readied his
flute.
“It has certainly been a pleasure. If ever you find yourself in a quandary, facing
impossible odds, think of me. Perhaps it will help you gain a new perspective. I wish you
well on your quest, time walker, whether that quest is for knowledge or for your home.”
And then he grinned that huge, wrinkled grin before becoming one with his magical
instrument.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 96
As the melody gathered in volume and richness the wanderer witnessed the world begin
to change. The physical features of the land and air dissolved, becoming a translucent
superimposition over the true source, the life force, the fire from the Sun.
The wanderer saw that he was surrounded by energy and it overwhelmed him. Everything
glowed. Every rock, every shrub, every particle of dirt was alive with energy. No single
part of the Earth was dead! Everything pulsed with the life force and was connected to
everything else by filaments of light that resembled strings. It was true! He marveled.
He looked up and saw hundreds of fine, gossamer lines of a different texture criss-
crossing the sky. Many of them converged above him and dropped to the ground on the
very spot where he was sitting. Reaching out his hand, he grasped a particularly
appealing strand and was immediately pulled from the ground and whisked away! The
nevertheless knew that it corresponded to his traveling the lines at a fantastic rate of
At the precise moment that the pressure became unbearable, he found himself bodily on
the ground once again. No longer was he in the Andes, but instead was standing in amber
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 97
sand on the top edge of a desert plateau. A broad river flowed below in the near distance,
its flood plain green and lush and cut with canals. The air was hot and heavy.
When he glanced around, he was shocked and confused by what he saw. On the horizon
stood three giant pyramids, and he wondered if the lines had taken him to the Blue
World.
No!
He realized right away. Nestled unmistakably between the pyramids sat the Sphinx. He
was in Egypt!
Before he could slump to the ground in exhaustion, the mist came and snatched him
away.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 98
Every major archaeological ruin across Mexico and Guatemala has one thing in common;
the ball court. Some ceremonial centers have clusters of ball courts around them. This
game was played amongst the Mesoamerican Indians for over 1500 years running, with
probably very little change in the rules. Today we don’t know how this game was played.
The idea that competitive teams were sent to different cities to play the ball game is my
own construct. Maybe it happened, maybe it didn’t. The problem with trying to do
history in the America’s is that there isn’t any history until Columbus and Cortes arrived
to wreck havoc on the civilizations. Only in the past twenty years has the Mayan code
been broken so that we can read their language. Names and events are starting to come
into the record. Of course, as with any government, there are a lot of tall tales being told,
One thing is fairly certain; Teotihuacan, outside Mexico City, was the dominant power of
its time (200 BC-600 AD). It influenced city-states from the Gulf coast to Guatemala.
While the ball courts stand out at El Tajin, Monte Alban, Xochicalco, Chichen Itza,
Copan, Tula, Tikal, and so forth, it is hard to find the courts at Teotihuacan. Go figure.
Encouragement is so nice
OK. So we’re back to the Conquest. At one time Long Road had twelve songs, but there
were too many holes in the story. And then the outline grew to sixty. I have actually
written 34, so there are still a lot of holes. That’s why I have included some chapters from
Flipside.
I keep hearing little voices in my head. They say, “I know this flakey character, this
Wayne. He has no musical ability whatsoever. He can’t sing, doesn’t play an instrument
of any kind, and there are too many words for these things to really be songs. He’s
delusional. He’s nuts. He really can’t even tap his fingers. He’s got to be full of kaka-
poopoo.” Go ahead. Believe what you want. Stand outside our shower. Hell, I’ve even
Yeah, right.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 103
Once again, many thanks to my lovely assistant. Putting these chapters into the computer
is time consuming, and it probably wouldn’t get done without Sam, my wife and partner
(not typist).
FLIPSIDE
Chapter 2
Even though his thoughts were as thick and cumbersome as the swirling gray fog that
surrounded him, he felt physically stronger. He knew his rest had been beneficial.
He breathed deep the crisp, pine scented air and then began to make his way slowly down
the steep, wooded slope. When he stepped from the forest into a golden brown meadow,
the stifling mist thinned and a spectacular panorama opened up before his eyes.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 104
It was a stunningly beautiful valley, fifty miles or more across at its widest point. The
North side was open, and veed away in a broad plain a mile or so below him, broken here
and there by a low, lonely mountain. The converging end of the vee consisted of tall,
rugged ranges. The highest peaks were snow covered. The one nearest him was actively
But the most compelling feature of the valley lay at the foot of the opposite range; a sky
blue lake that flashed and sparkled in the sunlight. Near one end was a large island that
was linked to the mainland by three long causeways. They reached out like spokes to the
As if in answer to his unspoken question came a strange, grating voice. “Welcome to the
Conquest! Before you is the Valley of Mexico, the island/city of Tenochtitlan, the jewel
He turned quickly and to his surprise discovered an unusually large parrot eyeing him
from a perch. It was a strikingly beautiful bird, resplendent in its rich, green plume.
His name?
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 105
What exactly WAS his name? Did he even have one? He could not think clearly. There
was a disconcerting gap in his continuity that he simply could not access. He could
“Never mind. It’s not important,” the bird consoled. “After all, what’s in a name? You
“You are a man of wisdom!” Mochni corrected gleefully. “And you have arrived at the
most opportune moment! We are about to witness the fall of Tenochtitlan and the
The wanderer felt a tug of apprehension as he attempted to fit himself into the time
frame.
“Is that truly the Aztec capital in the valley below?” he asked weakly. Why could he
remember some history when he couldn’t remember his name? He was well versed in the
lore of the Aztecs. Could he have actually traveled into the past?
“The Conquest is taking place at this very moment,” the parrot wheezed. “You should
take advantage of your good fortune and project yourself over the city.”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 106
Noting the pitiful look of despair on the wanderers face, Mochni prodded him. “Go
ahead. I know you can do it. Walk the sky! I will be your guide. Give you history from a
Stricken by those last words, the wanderer wavered. Could he truly trust the parrot?
Mochni’s eyes betrayed keen intelligence, but they also cast a sinister glint. And the
grating, mocking tone of voice had put him on edge from the very beginning. Still, he
The wanderer’s indecisiveness ceased to matter when he discovered that he had already
begun to walk the sky. Even though he was standing in the meadow, he was also flying
with the parrot. Even though he was a man, and not a bird, still he was soaring through
the air, gleefully riding the wind currents down the side of the mountain.
When they reached the valley floor and neared the shoreline of the lake, a giant clamor
caught his attention. The water surrounding the city was literally teeming with canoes.
There were thousands of them filled with warriors battling one another. From six or
seven larger, more cumbersome boats came the flash of fire and roar of cannon. A full
The wanderer watched the desperate, determined fighting along the causeways and at the
main gates of the city. And though it was mostly native fighting native, he took special
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 107
note of the Spaniards fighting bravely on their horses, confident in their armor. Musket
shot pocked the air. The banner of Castile waved gloriously in the breeze.
“Noche Triste, the Night of Sadness, is over,” Mochni lamented. “Moctezuma is dead.
Disease has swept Mexico. Cortes has returned for the final time and set siege to the city.
It will be only a matter of days now until we see the end of this proud Aztec empire.”
Groans and rallying cheers ebbed and flowed as they continued their flight across the
water. The rhythms of drums, the blare of horns and conch shells, and firing of musket
and cannon intermingled to rake their senses. But when they reached the city proper, the
awesome magnificence of the canals and gardens made the wanderer forget about the
“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Mochni shuddered with pride. “These ingenious people
reclaimed the land from Lake Texcoco and created the Venice of the New World! In fact,
Absolutely astounding!”
They swept low over a ball court as they neared the ceremonial center, where the
wanderer was swept by the grandeur and dwarfed by the immensity of the enormous
pyramids and temples. At the same time, he was repulsed by the repugnant odor of dried
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 108
blood that emanated from the main structure, the Templo Mayor. The stench was strong
As they commenced to glide above the residential and market areas toward the sister city,
Tlatelolco, the wanderer realized that the parrot was still speaking.
paradise…the grand epitome of civilization. The largest city in the world! It was with my
advice and influence that they attained such cultural heights, you know…”
But the wanderer was not interested in the bird’s commentary, preferring instead to
concentrate on his own disturbing thoughts. He knew that the Aztecs had a thriving,
vibrant society. They produced tremendous art and architecture; had an understanding of
astronomy and a finely honed calendar. To witness it all first hand was deeply satisfying.
And yet at the same time it was utterly distressing because this was their end. The whole
city was in a spasmodic state of panic. Within a matter of days it would be reduced to
rubble and plunder; the women raped; the surviving men crippled by the conquering
horde.
He felt a penetrating shiver and then found himself back on the mountainside, gazing
down upon the valley. Mochni was perched on the limb beside him.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 109
“It’s a shame, isn’t it? Such a tragic shame,” the parrot commented sadly. “My proud,
powerful empire, my glorious Aztec civilization, over three-hundred years in the making,
mind you, brought unmercifully to its knees in a matter of days. Hundreds of thousands
The parrot paused to let his words sink in, and then uttered an obscene, traitorous laugh.
The comment caught the wanderer by surprise. “I wasn’t thinking that at all!” he
stammered. He wondered if Mochni was truly aware of the events that were about to
unfold. Or had the parrot deliberately led these people to the brink of disaster, as his
callous tone suggested? “Did you know that this point in time was approaching?” the
“I grew giddy waiting for the moment,” the bird replied with a sparkle in his eye.
The wanderer felt enraged. “In one hundred years this culture will be all but extinct; their
spirit crushed! You could have prepared them to meet the challenge and instead you’ve
“You filthy traitor,” the wanderer accused. “I detest the loss of cultural diversity as much
as environmental diversity.”
Mochni spat on the ground. “Don’t give me that self-righteous blather,” he sneered.
“With your arrival, I am no longer even needed here. You will do my work for me!”
“You truly don’t know yourself, do you?” the parrot countered. “Well, take a look, white
boy! You are one of them. Do you hear me? You are a white man! It is your people who
are responsible for this holocaust, not me. It’s your people who bring misery, disease, and
oppression. Not only will you exterminate the native population, but you’ll crush the very
spirit of the Earth in order to attain your cultural domination, the name of your game.
“As for you personally, mister man of knowledge, you don’t even know your own name.
You have no idea who you are and yet you presume to judge me? Well, look at yourself
His tirade over, the parrot cocked his head and waited for a reply.
Shocked and confused by the scathing accusations, the wanderer remained speechless.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 111
“Now you’ve forgotten how to use your tongue as well,” the bird taunted. “Well, I’ve got
better things to do than wait for you to regain your senses. I’m sure we’ll meet again. I
The wanderer watched in stupor as Mochni flapped his wings and flew off, gliding
serenely into the valley. Smoke was rising from Tenochtitlan, making viewing hazy.
It’s just as well, thought the wanderer. He was in no mood to watch the destruction
Confused and upset, he turned from the valley panorama and strode towards the pass in
the mountains. He was well aware that he had let the distasteful parrot get to him. Still, he
couldn’t help but wonder whether or not Mochni was right. Did he share responsibility
No! The damn bird was wrong! How could he be responsible for what was happening to
the Aztecs, or to any of the other native Americans? He wasn’t even from this time
period. He was from the future! How else could he have knowledge of the outcome of the
Conquest”
Distraught, he closed his eyes and clenched his fists, but as he stretched his arms toward
the sky, a strong premonition forced him to reopen his eyes and re-examine his
surroundings.
smooth, rock ledge. Before him, the cliff fell away for almost a thousand feet. Fighting
When he reached more comfortable footing, he glanced around and noticed a cluster of
rock and adobe houses on top of a protruding mesa spur. There were people in the
village, mostly women, who were attending to their daily routines; whitewashing walls,
mending clothes, and preparing meals. Children were playing games, chasing one
It was mid-day, bright with a cloudless sky. A warm, steady breeze buffeted his face. It
was obvious that he was no longer in the alpine region above Mexico City. The entire
scope of the scenery had changed miraculously in the blink of an eye. How was it
A little girl popped up suddenly in front of him, and the questions were chased from his
mind. He had been oblivious to her approach and her sudden appearance startled him.
She couldn’t have been more than five years old. Except for a simple bead necklace that
stood out prominently against her dark body, she was stark naked. She was also very
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 113
nervous and fidgety. She kept her gaze on him at all times as if she was afraid to break
eye contact.
He was becoming increasingly hypnotized by her stare. Her eyes were huge and round,
“Where am I?” he inquired, attempting to break her spell. “What is this place?”
The little girl wouldn’t keep still. She arched her arms high behind her back and then,
lifting her knees nearly to her chin, marched around him in an ever tightening circle. And
then she dramatically unwound, shouting, “Oraibi, simpleton! Third Mesa! Don’t you
She eyed him suspiciously and then began to circle around once again, hyperactively
“The star has led us to the end of our migrations. The clans have completed their
wanderings, and now we wait for the Creator to reveal the outcome of His plan.”
As she turned a cartwheel, she came frightfully close to the edge of the mesa.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 114
“In the meantime, as you can see, things have gotten pretty ridiculous.”
Ridiculous indeed, he thought nervously. Totally outrageous was more like it.
“Not me, silly. Everybody else!” she retorted as if she could read his thoughts. “Come on,
He followed her into the village. His intentions were to be polite and friendly to
everybody, but nobody paid him any attention. In fact, as they continued towards the
“See?” the little girl intoned. She continued to squirm and hop about as if she had to
relieve herself. “Nobody even sees you! And they all think I’m the crazy one. They all
say it, you know. ‘Sparrow of the Broken Ledge is crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy!”
She continued her chant until they reached the edge of the ceremonial center, a fairly
large area that contained six to eight kivas, seemingly spread haphazardly. Hopi men
were lazing about, some clothed in exotic, colorful garb, but most dressed in drab cotton
No sooner were the words out of her mouth when the wanderer noticed one of the men
notice him. The man’s expression of disbelief was unforgettable. Once he composed
himself, and made sure that the visitor was still watching, he strode purposefully towards
the edge of the mesa and then tossed some kernels of corn into a pit. He picked up a
fifteen foot long pole, ten inches in diameter, as if it weighed nothing at all, and began
effortlessly working it up and down in the pit, pulverizing the corn into meal.
The wanderer was amazed. It seemed beyond reason that the man could work the tall,
cumbersome pole in such an easy manner. The post had to weigh more than the man
himself!
The other men had joined together in a chant. The corn grinder eventually grew bored
and left the pole standing in the hold. He gathered the chanters behind him and then led
them past the wanderer in a single file. Each man who passed gave him a quick, furtive
The wanderer followed the line with his gaze. The withering, side winding motion
reminded him of a snake. He saw each man dip a hand into a container of whitewash and
then continue on to the edge of the mesa. When the last man arrived, a command was
given and, in unison, they began to wave their whitewashed hand into the air, as if
Bewildered, the wanderer questioned the little girl. “What are they doing?”
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 116
“Absolutely nothing,” she responded dryly. “They merely show off for you. There is no
She directed his gaze across the valley floor to another mesa two or three miles away. At
first glance he noticed nothing out of the ordinary, but as he continued to watch, he saw a
whitewash spread slowly but distinctly across the ocher cliff side of the distant ridge.
“See what I mean?” she groaned, once again becoming animated. “There is no purpose to
what they do. Whitewashing the cliff! The morons! With all this work to do in Oraibi,
they have nothing better to do than their cheap, useless magic. They’d be better off if they
looked to feeding themselves! Every year now more and more Tasavuh come to steal our
maize. They know that, and still they sit around all day like they’re something special.
Overcome with despondency, she stopped waving her arms and plopped to the ground in
a heap.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 117
“Only a one-heart can learn what they learn,” she lamented. “But they lose direction so
quickly! They all end up being a two-heart, and then they can’t be trusted. They’ve
regressed to spiteful witchcraft, shooting pellets of corn into people to make them sick or
“Walk the sky? P-tah!” She spat on the ground. “You ask such silly questions. Some of
us can. But what good does it do to see Tasavuh coming? There is nothing we can do to
prevent it.”
A sudden urgency swept over her and she jumped to her feet. “Father says that YOU can
renew our purpose, give us new direction that will make our efforts worthwhile. But
“What’s wrong with you anyway?” she scoffed as she once again began to circle him in a
scrutinizing manner. “It’s as if you can’t remember or something. Is it because you are
white? You are, aren’t you? It’s so hard to tell with you fading in and out like that!” She
kicked dirt towards him in a spiteful manner. “Who are you anyway?”
He didn’t have a clue. And yet he clearly understood most of what he had witnessed. He
was now at the Hopi mesas in northern Arizona, probably during the same time that
Cortes was crushing the Aztecs. He had not seen any horses in or around the village. But
while he could define his present place in the chronological order, he had no recollection
of his own personal history. Why? He didn’t know who he was or his purpose in being
Was he white? Mochni had made the same assertion. And while he certainly wasn’t the
color of the whitewashed cliff, his skin was lighter than that of the little girl’s. Did it even
matter?
“Does Mochni appear to you here?” he asked, attempting to change the topic.
“The parrot? I have heard of him, but have never seen him. Don’t worry. If he ever comes
here, we will not be swayed by that evil spirit’s voice. Everyone here is too lazy.”
Sparrow’s pessimism matched his own opinion. Mochni would have no reason to meddle
with these people. Why should he? Even the Spaniards would overlook these unassuming
clans living in the middle of a barren land. It would be the Hopi’s salvation.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 119
He numbly examined his outstretched arms. There was no use denying it. He was indeed
a white man.
“You aren’t going to help us, are you?” Sparrow admonished, half accusing, half
“There is nothing I can do, little one. Absolutely nothing.” Hell. He couldn’t even
remember his own name! How could he hope to help these people?
He felt ashamed by his insensitive answer, but he felt that he owed her the truth. Finding
She fidgeted with her necklace for a moment and then held out a huge paho, a prayer
stick that was nearly twice the size of her own little body. He admired the large eagle
“The prophecy has come true,” she declared. “When our white Friend finally returned, he
no longer knew who he was. My prayer is that you get well soon.”
And then he felt a tremendous rush of wind, and the little girl was nowhere to be seen.
Glancing up, he saw an eagle soaring aloft, on its way to the sun.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 120
Saddened and demoralized, the wanderer sat down on the edge of the mesa, oblivious to
the surrounding men. He concentrated instead upon the intriguing purple mist that
billowed up from the clear desert below. He solemnly awaited its arrival.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 121
So here’s the thing. The Aztecs could have crushed the Spaniards as they tried to set foot
on the Gulf coast. Instead, Moctezuma pulled a Hamlet and couldn’t make a decision.
(Re-read Portents). The Aztecs were a conquering people and demanded tribute from all
the people they dominated. Needless to say, all the subjugated Indian groups in Mexico
hated the Aztecs. So Cortes conquered Mexico with 500 Spanish soldiers and 500,000
Indian allies. He then turned on those allies and brutally subjugated them, too. This was
made easier by the fact that European diseases had already halved the population of
Mexico, and the people who survived were in a terribly weakened state.
In 1540 Fray Marcos led Coronado and his soldiers into New Mexico. They defeated the
Zuni at Zuni and then proceeded to the Rio Grande Valley in New Mexico. They were
looking for gold; especially the fabled golden cities of Gran Quivira and Cibola. The
pueblo Indians caught on fast. “Keep going,” they said as they pointed into the distance.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 122
“It’s just over the next rise!” Coronado wandered around the high plains, lost a few
horses and drove stakes into the Llano Estacado to find his way back. “Damn,” said the
Indians. One hundred years later, the Comanche were the master horsemen of the plains.
Would history have been different if the Aztecs had crushed Cortes at the coast? I doubt
it. Wave after wave of white people were coming to the New World. Only the
History
So, what were the Hopi doing when white men arrived on the continent? Not much. They
were sitting around waiting, like Sparrow of the Broken Ledge said. Their prophesies
were for the same date as the Aztecs, Ce Acatl, 1519. They heard rumors. Pahana was
late. He was supposed to go directly to Oraibi. Instead, Coronado sent an emissary who
first met the Hopi at Antelope Mesa. It was not a pretty picture. When the Hopi put corn
meal on the ground to bless the reunion, the Spaniards thought the Hopi were drawing a
Kisiwu is a sacred spring fifty miles north of Oraibi. It is where they plant their paho’s,
their prayer sticks. Hawikuh is the home of the Zuni. The nakwach is a particular
handshake. Home Dance is Niman Kachina, the summer ceremony. A kachina is a spirit.
He spends half his time in this world, half in the Underworld. Soyal is the ceremony of
the winter solstice. The true Pahana will return at the end of Soyal.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 126
As you can see, the Hopi are a simple people with very complex beliefs. Sort of like the
Maya were when Columbus arrived in America. All the great cities of the Maya had
crumbled and returned to the jungle by that time. No one would have ever thought that
the ancestors of those simple people found living in the jungle could have been the one’s
who’d built the great centers of Tikal, Calakmal, Caracol, Copan, Palenque, Yaxchilan,
Uxmal, Edzna, Chichen Itza, Quirigua, Piedras Negras, Bonampak, Naranjo, Tonina, and
so forth and so on, but they did. Appearances can oftentimes be very deceiving.
And though I’ve kept the knowledge and still walk the sky
Still, it’s the moment we’ve been waiting for all our lives
***
Thunder!
Antelope Mesa
Antelope Mesa
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 128
Antelope Mesa
***
...........................
Glittering trinkets!
Sad disappointment
Sacred tablets
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 129
...................
***
Niman Kachina
Can’t be wrong
Together as one
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 130
About one hundred years after Columbus arrived, the Spaniards decided to colonize the
upper Rio Grande Valley. Juan Onate won the governorship and marched his soldiers and
colonists north from Mexico City, and simply claimed New Mexico for Spain. Kind of
like gang warfare. Juan announced that the new kids were the toughest kids on the block
and so the land was theirs. If anybody didn’t like it, they could go screw themselves.
What’s that you say? Thou shall not steal? Land ownership has always been kind of
fuzzy for me. How can anybody really claim to own the land when the land has been here
for a zillion years before us and will be here a zillion years after we’re gone? If anything,
the land owns us and lets us live here for a few years. Life is a gift. Perhaps we should try
to solve the mysteries of our own awareness instead of worrying about what the next guy
thinks he owns.
Once again, a nod goes out to Paul Horgan for the following song.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 131
All right. You might want to get your Google machines cranked up for this one. In 1629 a
nun of the Franciscan order lived on the border of Aragon and Castile in Spain. She never
left the nunnery, probably for her entire life. But Indians in eastern New Mexico and in
the Texas panhandle and further south below the Conchos River reported seeing her.
They would go to the missions on the Rio Grand and ask the Friars to be baptized. They
said Maria de Agreda had sent them, and described this woman. One time she even
accompanied them to San Felipe Pueblo. When the Friars asked the Indians to step
forward, she pushed them from behind, a ripple effect through the crowd. This was 1629.
Travel time was slow. I mean, it made “a slow boat to China” seem like a jet airplane.
What gives? Tomorrow might bring an explanation. Or it might bring a lot of imaginative
bull.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 135
On the plains
So. How did Maria do it? I have a feeling I’m going to get two possible answers here. For
those of you who have really been reading these things, you’re probably going to say she
grabbed hold of one of the lines and was whisked away. A couple of you might say that it
was simply and surely by the will and grace of God. Of course, you know that this is a
trick question, and I don’t buy either one of those answers. If she had disappeared bodily
from the convent, I would go along with the line theory. But whenever a nun, (or, heaven
forbid, a Friar) would look in on her, she’d be asleep in her bed. She never left the
convent. That would also pretty much blot out answer number two.
But we have also heard tell of something called “walking the sky.” This is akin to the out
of body experience, where one looks down on himself sleeping or laying in a hospital
bed. It is an ability that can be cultivated. Awareness splits and exists in two places at the
same time. If a person can learn to maintain the sequences of his dreams while at the
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 139
same time dreaming of the real world in real time, instead of dreaming about the usual
gobbly-gook, there’s no telling what all a person could be capable of doing. It’s all very
simple, really.
FLIPSIDE
Chapter 20
He stood outside the tent, fully intending to urinate. Nothing was happening, and he
decided to give it more time. Overall, he felt physically strange, light and light-headed,
The night was very still except for the sound of a faint, but howling wind further down
the valley. It was coming his way, approaching slowly for something that sounded so
forceful. When it finally arrived, it hit with short, strong gusts that increased to a steady,
hard blow before passing quickly. The chirping of crickets and the barking of tree frogs
He gazed around the campsite. His vision had adjusted remarkably to the night and he
could see everything clearly. Paul was rolled up inside his tent. Richard was sleeping
soundly in the back of the pick-up truck. He was either very drunk or the intermittent
He thought about his own tent and realized that he hadn’t zipped it shut. The mosquitoes
would eat Bonnie alive! He put his penis back into his pants and then knelt to zip the tent.
To his surprise, it was already tightly closed. He looked inside to check on her.
The observation overwhelmed his sense of reason. He fell backwards, shocked by the
duality that confronted him. Up until that moment he had assumed that his thoughts were
originating from within his “dreaming” body. But there he was, obviously sleeping next
The command seemed to come from an outside source within him. But it was sound
advice. He knew that if he became overly agitated he would soon lose the continuity of
his dream. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder. Seeing himself sleeping there was a
shocking way to realize that he was in fact dreaming. Everything seemed so real! He
The wind gusted once again and then moved on. Upon its’ tail came the hoot of an owl,
brilliantly melodious. The magical sound resonated within him. When he heard it again
he knew that the owl’s call was meant for him alone.
He moved to the next campsite and sat down on top of the picnic table. He waited to hear
from the owl once again. The wind had changed to a light, steady breeze, and he listened
to the rustling branches as he watched their shadowy motion against the starlit sky. Time
passed. An armadillo came close, rooting and snorting. He forgot about the owl and
Thinking of Paul and Richard, he grabbed hold of the end of the table and pulled. It
moved easily.
“Why those lazy bums,” he said out loud. “Too heavy to move. What a poor, sorry
excuse!”
He turned his back to the table, reached back with both hands, and proceeded to drag the
table behind him. He soon noticed a loud, rumbling sound, and the first thought that came
He stopped to listen more intently, but the thunder had passed. He heard nothing but tree
frogs and crickets, the wind and the river. He was perplexed. Surely he hadn’t imagined
that sound.
He started forward with the table once again. Once again the mountains rumbled.
Shit! It struck him. The sound he heard was the dragging of the table! Outrageous! He
was probably waking every camper along the river. Suddenly feeling very self conscious,
Richard was sitting up in the back of the truck, looking around. Daylight was beginning
to creep into the darkness and a foggy haze covered the ground.
Not wanting to be seen by Richard, Credit decided to climb the bluff and enter the
campsite from the opposite direction. But after entering the woods, he began moving
through the trees much faster than intended, much too fast for safety. But there was
nothing he could do to prevent it! For some reason, he had totally lost control over his
muscles.
Damn, that hurt! He grabbed at his left arm and then bounced off another tree. Incapable
Everyone has heard of the American Revolution and Independence while few have heard
of the Pueblo independence. It is probably because their freedom only lasted about twelve
years. One reason it had been so easy for the Spaniards to colonize the American
Southwest was that the pueblos were individual entities. Attack one and the others did not
come to their aid. They pretty much just tolerated each other. Most of them even spoke
different languages. But after years of humiliation at the hands of the Spaniards, Pope
(pronounced Po-pay) changed things. He arranged to have all the pueblos act together at
the same time and they succeeded in running the Spaniards out of New Mexico and
northern Arizona.
But 80 years of Spanish domination had changed the pueblos forever, and independence
did not last long. The whole dynamic of the area had changed. Apaches, Comanche, and
Navajos, groups that were not there a hundred years earlier, were beginning to encroach
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 144
on the pueblos, and life would never again be the same. That’s just the way it goes, not
only in the American Southwest but all over the world. I used to feel really bad about
what happened to the American Indians, but the peoples of the world have always been in
a state of flux and always will be. You can build fences or make new immigration laws
and it’s not going to make a lick of difference. People are still going to be on the move.
Borders are only rigid on the map. And in some people’s thick skull.
Pope 1680
They kill us, they whip us, treat our women with shame
This one has a snappy little tune to it. If you break out in a song and dance routine, don’t
Colony
Majesty
Destiny
Liberty
We’re going to throw the English yoke from off of our backs
Hamilton
Ben Franklin
Jefferson
Washington
Part 3
It’s time for me to climb a little bit higher in my pulpit. I know it’s what you’ve been
waiting for. I’ll thump my chest for a few songs and then finish up with the rest of
Pahana’s adventure.
Scenario: An INS agent is standing at the Maine/New Brunswick border, out in the
woods, awed by the splendor and solitude, when a moose strolls out of Canada, crossing
into Maine. Does the agent stop the moose and send it back into Canada?
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 152
Summer has faded and geese in the Canadian north are gathering up for the long flight
south. Does the US Air Force scramble the jets in Minot, North Dakota and try to keep
The answer is obvious; the freedom of the animals is not restricted. But people without
the proper papers would be turned away. It kind of begs the questions: Is a man not more
than a moose? And with due respect, is a woman not more than a goose?
This song is another one from my angry days, when I didn’t like what governments do to
people. I still don’t, but now I know there’s not much I can do about it.
Tell me, what do you lose when you go cast that vote?
Tell me, what do you lose when you go cast that vote?
When the man comes to take you, you can’t say “no”
Can you see through the horse shit that your government spouts?
Can you see through the dogma that the churches give out
If you keep your motives pure you will do the right thing
Keep your motives pure and you will do the right thing
Pay attention to the Earth and you will do the right thing
I swear; if you don’t already, you’re all going to think I’m just crazier than Hell before
Voyager
Given the time and money, it’s not out of our sphere
Would it be far-fetched
Would it be far-fetched
Would it be far-fetched
Lemmings
But if you think clear, remove the log from your eye
of human events
to balance itself
At one time this was my favorite song. But now I sometimes read it over and think there
are way too many abstractions and generalities. What do you think?
It’s up to each of us to solve the mystery of awareness. What else are we here for? To try
Life
Life is a gift
A mountain to climb
Laws to be observed
Lessons to be learned
Into eternity
Life is a gift
Of the universe
Life is a gift
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 169
Accumulate possessions
Life is a gift
Life is a gift
In box canyons
To life’s mysteries
Life is a gift
Life is a gift
A mountain to climb
Laws to be observed
Lessons to be learned
Into eternity
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 172
The next three songs are about Pahana leaving for the East. They go hand in hand with
Time to Go and Legacy. Legends fits in between the two. The myth states that if Pahana
stops to rest more than twice on his way, it would take ages instead of years for him to
return. He has yet to return, so he must have decided to take a vacation or two along the
way. Meanwhile, the Hopi continue to wait, believing that some day the true Pahana will,
indeed, return, and their Creation tablet will once again be made whole.
Legends 1388 BC
I originally put this song in as filler, and it shows. It is no longer needed. I guess my logic
here was that a woman is usually to blame for just about everything that goes wrong, so I
had to have a song like this. My girlfriend at the time must have made me do it.
Originally, the song that followed this one was Halfway to Karnak, but we’ve already
been there and done that. The last four songs in Long Road will deal with the return of
Pahana.
I hear a collective sigh of relief from a captive audience. I’ve managed to drag this out
over so many months that it’s going to feel like the end of an era. Since all of you have
been forced to read these things, you will probably feel like you’re finally being released
from Gitmo.
That’s eluding me
This song was written for two of the better friends I’ve managed to make in this life and
it was never intended to be part of Long Road. But, you know, it fits in a way, and so
here it is. The verse on fishing seems to be way out of line, but here’s the scenario. Don
and I are sitting in a bass boat on Caballo Lake. It’s an absolutely beautiful day, a little
bit hot, but there’s a little breeze that makes it feel just fine. Suddenly, out of the blue,
lightning strikes the mountainside, shattering the rock, which goes flying into the air. As
Don pulls me back into the boat with my soiled pants, he notices a distinguished piece of
rock that has landed in the boat. It turns out to be the corner piece from the Hopi Creation
tablet. He takes it back to Oraibi and all the Hopi women surround him and rub up
against him and won’t let him be. This is the way things sometimes happen. When you’re
Good Friends
Got a friend
Forever spread
In front of me
This morning
Beating down on me
Got a friend
Got a friend
Got a home
Got a place to go to
This was the very first song written in the Long Road series. It kind of inspired the whole
thing. This is the song you all have to blame for this mess.
Just a note, rub, rub. If you find a cottonwood tree growing in the desert, you will find
standing water, or a damn good irrigation system. If the weather’s been overly dry, just
dig down a foot or two and water will most likely trickle into the hole.
This Desert
Waiting on me….
I regain my strength
It answers my prayers
In our soul
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 193
So, is the story of Pahana just a fairytale, or is it a myth that could actually enter into
reality?
Oraibi was founded circa 1306 AD, making it the oldest continuously inhabited site in the
United States. Before settling the three mesas, the Hopi probably came from one or more
of several cliff dwellings in the area; Betatakin, Keet Seel, Inscription House, or Canyon
de Chelly. Before that, they possibly lived at Chaco Canyon. And before then, they were
on their migrations to the four pasos. But none of that really matters. They still cling to
their Creation Tablets, the broken off corner still missing from one of them. They still
And what would happen if Pahana did indeed return? What would be the consequences?
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 195
The Hopi Indians would of course be vindicated for holding onto their age old beliefs,
and the rest of the American Indians would hold their heads a little bit higher as they
stepped along their Road of Life. And one would like to think that there would be a new
spirit of cooperation between not only the white and red man, but amongst all the peoples
of the world. But probably nothing would change. Western man would still want to
In a few years, a very special event is about to occur, something that has not happened for
over 5120 years. The present Mayan Age that began August 11, 3114 BC will come to an
end and a new one will begin. No doubt we will be swamped with all sorts of dire
predictions and doomsday scenarios. My own belief is that the day will come and go just
like any other day there’s ever been. A few more than usual Mayan Indians may wake up
with a hangover. I might wake up with one myself. But that’s just the way it goes.
But it will be a very poetic transition. There is a dark belt in the Milky Way where there
are no stars. Our scientists tell us that cosmic dust blocks out the starlight. The Mayans
call this the Tree of Life, and it is a very sacred symbol in their cosmology. On December
21, 2012, the Milky Way will be positioned in just such a way that when the sun rises that
day, it will climb up the Tree of Life, and the new Age will begin. This date coincides
Just as most of the people of Mesaamerica shared the common myth of the returning
white man, the Pahana, or Quetzalcoatl, or Kukulcan, so did all the peoples of
Mesoamerica share the Mayan calendar. What better time for Pahana to return than at the
Bernalillo is a town just north of Albuquerque on the Rio Grande. Kuaua is the pueblo
just outside of town that Coronado commandeered to house his soldiers in during the
Bernalillo
By a juniper
As a mountain lion
Makes it complete
By a juniper
As a mountain lion
Epilogue
So that’s it. That’s the end of the Songs from Long Road.
I’m quite proud of some of these songs. Some I’m not so proud of. That’s the way it
goes.
My biggest disappointment is that I wish I could have more fully conveyed the richness
Peru on forward. With the coming of corn, the America’s literally blossomed. The
cultures of Mexico were especially diverse. The Olmecs were considered the first
“empire” builders, with centers in highland Mexico, (Chalcatzingo) to the Gulf coast (La
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 200
Venta) to the Guatemalan Pacific coast. But the Mixtecs, Huastecs, and Zapotecs were
not far behind, and the Mayans may have always been there and they certainly surpassed
all of the others with the artistic richness of their pottery, stela and architecture. Some of
their artists are now known. They signed their works. There is one from Yaxchilan and
one from Palenque who would rival Rembrandt and Michelangelo. One reads an awful
lot about the Mayan “collapse.” Anthropologists try to nail down the cause. Hell, the
common people simply got together and ran the rich elites out of there. Who needs some
fat cat telling you how to live your life? Spend all of your time hauling around five ton
blocks of stone to build a residence for one of them and you just can’t live your own life.
You’re too danged tired at the end of the day. And you’ve got mysteries to solve!
Besides, you don’t want to have to worry about having to fight a bunch of wars simply
because the elite rulers got mad at each other. That sounds familiar even today.
Teotihuacan in central Mexico in 200 AD may have been the largest city in the world at
that time. Who were these people? We don’t know. What is known is that they influenced
everybody in Mexico and Guatemala. There were also two large diasporas of Nuhuatl
speaking people, one around 600 AD at the fall of Teotihuacan and another around 1100
AD when Tula of the Toltecs fell. In both instances large populations went to Nicaragua.
In the latter diaspora Toltecs also showed up in the Mississippi cultures and possibly
Chaco Canyon in New Mexico. The Toltecs are probably the most mysterious of the
Mexicans. Even in this day and age they are both feared and revered by the common
people. Yes, all these Indian groups still live in Mexico. Some of you may have visited
Chitzen Itza on the Yucatan Peninsula. The common theory is that Tula influenced
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 201
Mayan Chitzen. I hang with the minority and say it was the other way around. Tula is a
After the fall of Tula, the Aztecs moved into the Valley of Mexico.
Western Mexico was different from the rest of Mexico because they received heavy
influence from Peru. Peruvians were great sailors. Cocaine even shows up in Egyptian
mummies. I might note that the Aztec were never able to conquer the Tarascans of West
Mexico.
In the northern fringes of Mesoamerica we find the large centers of Paquime in northern
Mexico, along with Chaco Canyon in New Mexico. Later on the cliff dwellings were
built and then the pueblos along the Rio Grand, as well as the Zuni, Acoma, and Hopi
pueblos. All these people may or may not have had similar roots. You can trace down
some of it through language. The Hopi, for example, speak a form of Uto-Aztecan, but
where and when did they diverge from the main group?
South America is just as diverse, if not more so, with cultures running from the coast to
the high Andes; from the Mochi culture to Chavin, to Tiwaniku, to Cuzco and Machu
Pichu, not to mention the tribes of the Amazon. Where did all these people come from?
From the land bridge between Russia and Alaska? Yeah, right. The oldest archaeological
sites are all in South America. That doesn’t mean older ones won’t be found here in
North America. Personally, I think people got here however they could, just like today.
Scott/The Songs From Long Road 202
Some swam, some sailed, and some walked a long, hot desert or a hard, cold ice mass
seemingly forever.
Anyway, I see I’m beginning to bore you. If you’re interested, check it out. There are all
What I really wanted to say with today’s note is that Sam and I are having a party
tomorrow. I’m sure that by now you’ve all located the power spots near you. You know,
the places where the lines touch the Earth. If you feel like it, just grab one of the lines and
come on over. You’ll touch down behind the house by the creek. If you haven’t been
down there before, just climb the north bank and you’ll soon find the house. The garden’s
done great this year so there will be plenty of food and drink. See you then!
And I really do hope you enjoyed the Songs from Long Road.