The Great Spirit, Thomlokom           

The Pyramids on the plane at Gaza did not exist when the Spirit of Thomlokom stepped onto the porch of his cave near the highest peak of the Dead Mountains, and proclaimed, “the world between the Great Waters” (what would become the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans) “to be sacred land reserved for the Yckomtotal Nation, (Later renamed the Pygmy Nation).”  Every morning and evening the Great Spirit still steps out onto the porch of his abode, which overlooks the Colorado River, raises his hands to the sky and speaks to his followers on the tenets of existence and the rules of life, which are as applicable today as they were eons ago.

The Genesis:

In 1990, a small group of desert travelers were winding their way north in the Sacramento Mountains, reaching the Dead Mountains as the evening sun still bathed the highest peaks.  It had been a long hot day and the time was right for another of the many refreshment breaks of the day.  Holding the cold cans in their hands this group settled together at the side of trail to continue the general inconsequential discussions of the day.  A few beers later a quiet hush settled over the area, the birds and animals disappeared, the wind set, a pervading presence of some unknown entity shrouded the air like humidity on a summer afternoon.  This meager group set stunned, not by fear but by an inter-consciousness of peace, the voices stopped and the only sound was the pop-tops on the many cans. 

A small dust devil ventured across the trail and up the side of the great peak, continuing until it reached the mouth of a cave that had not been previously observed.  In and around the entire area the rocks were covered with petroglyphs and pictographs. Dust continued to whirl around the mouth of the cave and the sun turned the particles into gold.  The mountains shook, and out of this mystical environment stepped a figure, small in stature, hands raised to the sky, wearing a loin cloth and holding a spear.  At this sight the pop-tops began anew.  The sun reflected from this entity and sounds the group had never heard before flowed from the mountaintop.  At this point this insignificant group was under the influence of many things, not the least being the contents of the cans.  The world was quiet except for the Spirit voice and the pop-tops.

Proclamations of the Great Spirit:

As the shadows grew longer the spirit became more animated.  To the shock of these spellbound travelers, one arm dropped and pointed directly at them.  The strength of the spirit could be felt, as if a cold chill surged through their beings on a hot day; everyone shivered.  A course of pop-tops broke the air.  The Spirit then spoke directly to this mesmerized and confused group saying, “You were not a member of our existence, but your observance of this highly sacred ritual bonds you to the Pygmy world forever”.  This entity then denoted what was required of each initiate to maintain health and vitality. “You must return as often as possible to the Mojave Desert, be good stewards of the land, and share these beautiful vistas with other who are trustworthy.”  Further, “ here are the secrets of life that you must never share with anyone outside of this vagarious group.”  The spirit then provided five simple answers to unspoken thoughts that have pervaded men’s minds since the beginning of time.  With that, the sun dropped below the mountain peak, the spirit vanished, the wind returned, birds flew into the air and the world took on a normal flavor again. 

The group did not move, just looked at each other and then again at the mysterious mountain which was now in shadows.  A bird perched high on the overhanging rocks would have seen a number of males surrounded by a large amount of aluminum cans.  Refills had been obtained and the pop-tops were beginning anew.  The bird smiled, knowing that this small group of men, intoxicated, both by the moment and the beverage would be changed for all time, there would be no going back.  And that the secrets imparted that day would be forever locked in the minds of these wayward travelers.

Prosecution of the Pygmy Commands:

So this aging band of High Desert Pygmies return to the East Mojave as often as possible and invite those worthy of appreciating and understanding the Great Spirit of adventure; realizing that the use of intoxicants are necessary complements to obtaining enlightenment and gaining an in depth understanding of the philosophy professed.  Nonbelievers are never welcome at their campfire………  

Blowsand Burns