(This is a copy of the 10th semi-annual Turkey Mail that was sent out to about every person I know or have known)
On the first Thanksgiving the then-Indians-now-Native-Americans shared with the Pilgrim settlers the bounty of the land and the two soon to be warring sides ate together in a happy union. Every year at the end of November to commemorate this event, families and friends across the US gather together to feast and celebrate all that they are thankful for. They sit around the table and eat turkey, ham, or other festive meats, with all the trimmings of the day. Everyone warms in the glow of their loved ones, the satiety of a good meal, and the happiness of having the day off from work. All over the country it is a time of happiness, celebration and good will.
But everyone is joyous under false pretenses and the smiles and laughs only mock the dead.
After almost 300 years of lies and deceit, it is time to tell the truth about Thanksgiving.
Until recently, very little was known about the great Turkey Uprisings of the 17th century. Much like the version of the Bible that has Jesus married to Mary, the secret Roman history in which Marc Antony stabbed Caesar instead, and pamphlet that explains how Elizabeth I was actually a robot controlled by aliens from the Planet Neptune, the story of the Turkey Uprisings has been largely kept under wraps. Oh, to be sure there have been mutterings throughout history – even Abraham Lincoln was told to said to Congress on more than one occasion “South, shmouth, what about the Turkeys?” And as much as Joseph McCarthy was fighting the spread of Communism, he was also trying to protect the secret history of what transpired back in the early 1600’s.
There are good reasons why the story has been hidden these many years. And there are those who would wish it to remain hidden still, but the silence and shame have gone on for long enough and this year as we sit down to our stuffing and pie, we shall do it knowing the truth once and for all.
(Please note because of lack of documentation and overall proof of veracity some names, dates, fact and events will be at the author’s discretion)
In an effort to escape the religious persecution they were experiencing back in Ye Olde Englande, the Puritans fled to whatever shores would take them in. Seeing the land East of England was uninhabited or rather inhabited by Godless, soulless red-skinned heathens who didn’t really count much in the first place, the Puritans chose this land to be the lucky recipient of all their piety and ethos of hard work and little vacation time. They packed up their black and white outfits, nifty hats, shoe buckles and Bibles and headed for America.
It was a tough ride over and tougher still when they landed and realized that though they might not have considered the people native to the land, the natives would most certainly factor the Puritans into their thoughts. And so, the first few years were difficult, trying to make these heathens see the light of God and Jesus, all while trying to hold on to their children, their scalps, and their lives. The two groups could barely see eye to eye and social snubs were the norm; at parties the Puritans would stand to one side and the Natives to the other, each too afraid of being killed or lectured at to make any friendly overtures.
And so it stayed for several years. Of course there were a few cases of friendship, but the rest of the Puritans blamed the Devil when one of theirs defected. It seemed as though nothing could bridge the gap between them and the God-fearing and the God-less were doomed to live in awkward and sometimes violent opposition for eternity.
However, that all changed the day the Turkeys took to the streets.
Every year as winter would approach the settlers would try to stock up on poultry and meat for the cold months ahead. Wild turkey was abundant at that time and every house would have at least 4 or 5 carcasses on ice to last them through the snows. It became a habit to display the turkey plumage on the front door of the poorly constructed houses, the more brilliant and lavish the plumage, the greater the turkey supply for that family that year. Turkey feathers became a sign of wealth and privilege. This custom became so wide spread that even the Native American began to use only turkey feathers in their costumes and headdresses, trying to keep up with Joneses. (Please note that the Joneses were the family who year in and year out consistently displayed the best plumage on their front doors) Much like the whale during the age of whaling or dolphin in the age of tuna-ing, the great and magnificent wild turkey was being not-so-savagely hunted to the point of maybe one day nearing extinction.
What no one knew then was that the wild American turkey had once, many hundreds of years ago, been worshipped as a God. Their natural stupidity combined with the abundance of their species provided for an oxymoronical existence that seemed to the peoples inhabiting North America to be the very sign of a Supreme Being. The fact that turkeys are known to drown in the rain by not knowing when to shut their mouth made them only that much more mysterious. For years the turkeys were prayed to, catered to, even sacrificed to. Eventually the people got smart and realized that having a blatantly stupid land fowl as a God wasn’t doing much for their crops or any of the other myriad of items they prayed to the turkey for on a daily basis. And once more the turkey became a valued food item instead of an omnipotent being.
What no one knew even more was that the expectation and attitudes of godhood had somehow imbedded itself in the turkey psyche and was passed down through the generations. Though no longer worshipped, the turkeys never forgot the days when the lived the good life and were fed instead of feed. They harbored great resentment in their DNA, though most of them thought it was just some sort of indigestion from eating that extra bug in the middle of the night even though they know they shouldn’t have but it was just so juicy they couldn’t help it. And through years the turkeys held this secret in the recesses of their subconscious, just waiting for the right trigger to bring out their discontent.
Watching their brethren being slaughtered, eaten and so garishly displayed, provided that trigger.
It is unclear as to when exactly the settlers and the natives notices that the turkeys were acting oddly. Because of lack of documentation from that era we can only surmise it was on Wednesday June 7th 1619. The precise time will remain a mystery to man. It was not that the turkeys were necessarily doing anything suspicious, they just seemed to be gathering in larger groups than normal and constantly looking back at the human after making what sounded like a very angry point. These meetings were noticed all along the occupied areas and at first everyone thought nothing of it. After a few weeks of feeling as though they were being watched by Meleagris gallopavo, however, they decided maybe these birds weren’t so innocuous.
But before they could deal with what the settlers had labeled “Ye Olde Turkeye Difficultye” and the Native Americans had called “Turkey who dances with switchblades”, the turkeys attacked.
To our time and sentiment it might seem odd that a turkey would attack a human but armed with sharpened sticks and pointed pebbles, the turkeys descended upon both human encampments. The first attack was a massacre. The turkeys showed no mercy and killed without discretion. It was only after a settler named Rayon Mather ran out brandishing a shot gun did the turkeys disperse. And the Native Americans suffered the same losses, quelling the attack by waving around a nine inch machete.
But the turkeys were bold and came raging again and again. After several rounds attacks, the settlers and the locals decided to meet and figure out an end to turkey terrorists. Many suggestions were bandied about at this meeting, amongst them letting the turkeys kill the Native Americans and hope that would appease them (this suggest was quickly rejected after the settler who suggested it was immediately scalped), the idea that they lure the turkeys to the edge of a cliff and then trick them into running off, praying was attempted but neither group could agree on which god worship and that ended in its own bloodshed.
Finally, Rayon Mather, the Pilgrim who figured out that the turkeys might be afraid of guns devised the winning solution. He had observed the turkeys’ stupidity when they managed to drown themselves and thought this defect could be used to their advantage. He realized that should they leave out enough bread, vegetables and cranberries for the turkeys to consume, their natural inability to know when to stop shoving food down their gullets would eventually cause them to die from gluttony.
It was a tough plan to put into motion – since most people had to be convinced that giving up a bit of their bread and veg would be worth saving their lives. But after a midnight raid, everyone agreed to the proposal.
Late the next night, the Pilgrims and their new friends littered the surrounding lands with bread crumbs, celery, potatoes, cranberries and corn a.k.a maize. The layer of food came up to mid-shin before everyone went home to hide … and to wait. The turkeys arrived, armed to the waddle, and ready to do battle. When confronted with the bounty of food droppings in front them they dropped their weapons and began the gorging. For at least 6 hours the turkeys devoured all the victuals covering the ground. Much like the Romans, they would binge and purge over and over again, never knowing that they were dooming themselves. As time went by, one by one the turkeys dropped dead – some of heart attacks, some choked on their own vomit, and some pushed their cholesterol levels beyond acceptable levels.
By the next day, all the turkeys were dead. The noble enemy vanquished, the humans rejoiced. In the face of such fearsome foes they banded together and saved humanity. All divisive thoughts of soul-less savages or witless-whitemen was put aside as the two communities celebrated as one. They took the most recently deceased birds and feasted upon them. And all was right with the world. (Please note all was not right with the world and only a year after this, the Pilgrims gave the natives a gift of their own, the flu, and wiped out a huge portion of the population.) The remaining turkeys that’d stayed in the forest saw what had been done to their relatives and seemed to have learned their lesson. All involved people involved agreed to never talk about their near destruction by one of natures most obtuse animals and turned the day into a commemoration of interracial harmony and eating rather than hard won victory over the turkeys.
So while you sit down this week and demolish a turkey drumstick or savor that last bite of stuffing, remember that it was only toil, anguish, and ingenuity that we survived to enjoy the day. And never forget that though they seem docile, the next wave of massacres by the hand of the vicious turkey might be just around the corner.
