Sorry I’m a bit late on this news. Between Coulter’s ongoing hate ‘not-so-nice’ speech, the non-stop insanity of all politicians and their sycophants, as well trying to teach college students how to read . . . well . . . some things are bound to fall through the cracks. On that point, many apologies for my failure to notice the death of a very significant activist.

This past week, American Indian activist Russell Means died of cancer. Means was an interesting person, to say the least. He certainly lived a life worthy of discussion. It was a life ripe with rich complexity, odd contradictions, occasional violence, as well as a film or two. Ultimately, however, it was a life placed in the service of his never-ending pursuit of justice. He was a veritable truth-teller who understood the intimate connection between telling stories and telling the truth. In his tradition, story-telling and truth-telling go hand in hand. He understood this well. The story he often presented to the American public was a story greatly at odds with the prevalent myths that own our consciousness. That’s why, for many people, he was difficult to understand.

One thing’s for sure, our difficulty in understanding him was not due to his lack of trying.