An excerpt from the novel "Dark Age: The American Holocaust" by Native American novelist James Deutzwe, Osage --

     “What I like to do is make up little stories to tell tourists when they come around, riding in on their jet-set style of life. I say "Hey, you" And they look, usually, sometimes they don't but just make their way toward the door.  Mostly the latter. Mostly they run and skitter away into safety, away from my horror stories about what they and those who preceeded them have done to us. 

    They like it, I always tell those who stay; "They like to hear it but they don't wanna hear it from me. They'd listen to a white man talk about it clinically, without feeling what it means, just rote, just monotone. They'd hear it then and they'd listen too, probably actually understand some of it, or what, if anything at all they might, perhaps, maybe want to understand, comprehend or process in a way that renders their normal (read White, Anglo, European) responses void and null with two big x's inside the floating and omnipresent idea cloud, bubbles and all. If you wanna see and know the truth, they see us as they see each other. This may seem fair, even civil, but civil they've never been, even to their own people.”