You Don't Know Me?

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person.
Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.

Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

Ghost Dancers, United Tribes Powwow,
Bismarck, North Dakota (September 2004)

Sometimes people carry to such perfection
the mask they have assumed
that in due course they actually become the person they seem.

W. Somerset Maugham (1874 - 1965), The Moon and Sixpence

We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others
that in the end we become diguised to ourselves.

Francois de La Rochefoucauld (1613 - 1680).

A Cautionary Tale

Rural Burliegh County, North Dakota,

The yellow-haired lady came down to the tavern,
An' looked up the stranger there.
He bought her a drink, an' he gave her some money,
He just didn't seem to care.
She followed him out as he saddled his stallion,
An' laughed as she grabbed at the bay.
He shot her so quick, they had no time to warn her,
She never heard anyone say:

Don't cross him, don't boss him.
He's wild in his sorrow:
He's ridin' an' hidin his pain.
Don't fight him, don't spite him;
Just wait till tomorrow,
Maybe he'll ride on again.

The yellow-haired lady was buried at sunset;
The stranger went free, of course.
For you can't hang a man for killin' a woman,
Who's tryin' to steal your horse.
This is the tale of the red headed stranger,
And if he should pass your way,
Stay out of the path of the ragin' black stallion,
And don't lay a hand on the bay.

The Red Headed Stranger, Willie Nelson