The land that Buffalo is built on was once home to the Seneca - lost through dubious deals by land speculators in the late 1700s to help pay for the American Revolution. The Seneca were the largest tribe of the Haudenosaunee, or Iroquois Confederacy. Strategically the protectors of the western flank of Iroquois territory, the tribe came to be known as the "Keepers of the Western Door".

The spirit of Bushalo begins with the irony inherent in the Art Deco style of City Hall, resplendent with idyllic symbols of moral virtue, incorporating significant artistic references to the vanquished tribes. Is it meant to honor them, or whitewash a history of ruthless conquest?

As you approach the face of City Hall from the ground, crossing over the street onto Niagara Square - the panoptical center of Buffalo from which its main streets radiate outward - you stand before an obelisk commemorating President William McKinley. McKinley was assasinated by Leon Czolgosz in September 1901 while attending the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo.

This was not a random act. Czolgosz was the son of extremely poor immigrant laborers whose life is representative of the desperate circumstances facing many working class Americans of the time. He gradually became politicized through the study of Anarchism and surely came to see McKinley as symbolic of society's ills.

McKinley had presided over an era of robber baron capitalism and the first wave of overseas imperialist expansion into former Spanish colonies such as Cuba, Puerto Rico and the Philippines. By annexing the Philippines, the United States had taken up the so-called "White Man's Burden," as urged by poet Rudyard Kipling. It would be our purpose, said McKinley, "to take them all and to educate the Filipinos, and uplift and civilize and Christianize them."

So, back to Niagara Square, standing on land stolen from the Seneca. This land transformed into Buffalo, the city of light, power, and industry; a one-time center of capitalist America's industrial might. Our gaze is led up the tall white obelisk commemorating one of its fallen heroes. The point at the top of the memorial directs our attention to the anthropomorphic head of City Hall and the site of Bushalo.

Leaflets distributed around the city have lead us to this place, signified by markings on the ground, from which we can summon the spirit of Bushalo. We must wave our arms and dance around to wake him. Yes, he sees us; his two eyes flash bright light from the top of City Hall. We may ask him one question: can he save us from what we fear most about our society (pick your fear)? After posing the question we bow and await his reply.

He replies with eyes flashing once again in the coded tongue of Bushalo-speak:
one flash = YES - God has told me so.
two flashes = MAYBE - I don't remember.
three flashes = NO - you must be a Democrat.

Thus ends our audience with the Keeper of the Western World. We can return to our crumbling neighborhoods, homeless shelters and isolated suburbs with the assurance that the Power has heard our voice and understands our pain.