Just. Rant. That is all.

Here we go. Rant.

There was a feminist, and I wish I could remember who, that suggested the performance of femininity is necessary because men need to be able to tell us apart from them. The classes have to be distinguishable on first sight so that the oppressor would never have to endure accidentally being taken for a woman, and vice versa. Women cannot look like men because men cannot accidentally become attracted to an actual man. It’s not uncommon for a brutal oppression of group over group to include some way of demarcating which class is the subclass, which the dominant. This is oppression fashion 101 (barfsob).

This image here encapsulates it well.

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Why are they afraid? Well, this very same feminist who I cannot recall said it’s because men are terrified of being treated the way they treat us. Imagine if they couldn’t tell us apart but wanted to carry on treating women the way they do now? Imagine the occurrence of men, from time to time (far too often for them), accidentially being mistaken for a woman and groped in the streets. Imagine him being cat-called and a man telling him what he’d like to do to his hot ass. Oh, imagine, men accidentally being taken for women and then being interrupted, mansplained to, talked over, talked down to like a child. Sexually assaulted. Hit. If women didn’t have to perform gender—none of it, not the outfits and fucked up face paint, not the ankle breakers called shoes and the dental floss called underwear, but also not the taking-up-little-space and crossing legs and talking softly—shit they’d have to burn us as witches. They’d be so mad. Witches were exactly that. Lilith-reared; spit-fired; self-sufficient; talkin’-back-at-men; well-learned in medicine, the seasons, movement of celestial bodies (astronomy/astrology), math, language, arts (dance, painting), and so forth. Before you spit vemon, read up on this. Women invented/cultivated all of this historically. We made up the majority of governing authority, but not the way men do now. Priestesses. Wise Women. Societies were more egalitarian, people were all well-fed, and there didn’t even exist the notion of weaponry! Only tools have been uncovered from those eras, and a LOT has been recovered. Including thousands of Goddess figurines, as the supreme deity was Mother Goddess, Inanna, Ishtar, Yemaya….the pantheon extends to other continents, but I confess I am not as fluent in the herstory of those neolilithic societies and their deities. The region I know best is the one from which the white man sprung up to take over the entire planet in World Dominating Nuclear War Probing Mars Sticking Flags in the Moon Mining ALL RESOURCES until we are on the brink of the sixth mass extinction and total systems collapse.

Dudes had it for about, max, 10K years. Women had it for, well, homo sapiens first evolved about 150-200K years ago on the heels of the Neanderthals and Denisovans, among a few. First were gatherer-hunter cultures which, let’s be honest, were women-lead as well. Women procured anywhere from 80% to 100% of the food in those cultures. The men were, uhm, redudandant, as in they could go hunting for weeks, come back empty handed, and the only notice of their absence was the lack of sex-crazed grunting noises at the females. Okay, okay, I’m being unkind. Though the first calendar ever discovered had 28 days notched into it—consider the typical menstrual/moon cycle—and was probably invented by a woman as well, men would have it that Mankind riddle the pages of His textbooks like scriptures in which His Holiness and Our Heavenly Father would GIVE BIRTH to a Son of God to inhabit the Earth and all her creatures: they all belong to Him. His Majesty. Now he’s got all the toys he dreamed of as a boy that mother denied him: He’s got NASA and Nascar, the United Nations and Atom Bombs, Monsanto and Holy Wars. In ten thousand years. The world is on the brink of implosion, the worst since the DINOSAURS (latest release from dem scientists). Somewhere inside, he loves the destructrion. He has to.

Is he seriously that stupid to blow HIMSELF up, too?

I mean, maybe it’s not even personal against women, children, animals, and the Earth. He’s just like a fucking zombie apocalypse.

And shit I just thought of all the Nigels, Unicorns, Tyrones, Good Guys, Little Brothers, NAMALTS, and even my spectrumite bros. But also I’m like, okay, seriously, if ya’ll had, as a group, accidentally left the toilet seat up across every household Earth nonstop for the past 10K years, we wouldn’t be having a conversation with this level of sweeping brush strokes, but we’re talking about DESTRUCTION OF THE ENTIRE FUCKING PLANET. Seriously. You.Men.Were.In.Charge when this shit happened.

But anyways back to the main post. They do not want us to look like men—or men to look like us—because they need to be able to differentiate the fucked caste from the fucker caste.

Patriarchy is the Psychopathic Web

She said something like, “Healing from a psychopath is hard, but it’s important to make sure that you heal in such a way that you don’t end up hating all men.”

Oh, did I pause and close the computer. Walk away. Stare out the window. Contemplate the degree of our captivity. On one side, you have an uprising of mostly women coming to terms with their experiences with mostly psychopath males (most psychopaths are male). On the other side, you have an uprising of women coming to terms with a system of pathological abuse flowing from males to females. We call it patriarchy.

When I stumbled into the radical feminist background, I had just emerged from a relationship with a psychopath. Shattered were my delusions about that guy. As the analysis presented by radical feminists made its way into my consciousness, there was no denying the unending parallels between these isolated instances of psychopathic abuse flowing primarily from male to female and the class-level analysis which saw these seemingly disparate streams of experience in a more holistic context. Consciousness raising is paramount to both domains, the one of psychopath awareness and patriarchy awareness.

What has only been blatantly elucidated about the overlaps, parallels, and dynamics of these two supposedly isolated phenomena exists in a book called Loving to Survive. The authors present an analysis called Societal Stockholm Syndrome which, without much effort, is obviously a demonstration of psychopathy as a system called patriarchy. Frankly, it’s not that we have 1 in 25 men displaying full-blown psychopathy. It’s that we have a system which breeds, raises, and encourages the proliferation of psychopathy in males, and it exists in an easy-to-illustrate spectrum across the male class.

The development of this situation is easy enough to recognize. Psychopaths will reach for the echelons of society that allow them the highest amount of control they can wield. From their positions, they are able to administer a disproportionate influence on the creation of society at large, from institutions to values to social design. Psychopaths, having no regard for other humans, will pursue their desires without restraint. The only way to stop them is to flatout stop them. Anyone who has dealt with a psychopath knows that there is no conversation to be had which will end the abuse. The only solution is to find methods to curtail, divert, prevent, and disable the psychopath from executing ruthless power and control over his victims.

Patriarchy is undeniably a system which represents on a grand scale everything that a constitutes psychopathy in an individual. Patriarchy, also being rule by patriarchs/men, is made up of psychopathic males in varying positions of power: from pope to husband/boyfriend/father. All of these men exert power over the women they dominate in a system that ensures the perpetual existence of supply. That is: women. Their power is bestowed upon them by the system—i.e. other men/psychopaths—in higher positions of influence who are able to keep lockdown on any means of escape or withdraw from the reaches of men’s grasp/control.

First, a quick review of what a psychopath is with some commentary on how it relates to patriarchy:

He is charming. He is the guy that makes you feel at ease, like you can finally be yourself, relax, stretch your legs out, share your deepest secrets and dreams. He is the Nice Guy, your Knight, your Hero. He will fight the other men to protect you (we go to war for you!). He is concerned for your welfare: he’ll make sure you eat (on his dime, not your own, so no need to have your own resources), make sure you get to your destination safe (tell me when you get there/where you’re going), and ensure that you have all the babies he told you that you wanted because you’re female…and he’ll make sure to put them in you…deny you the right to remove them if you actually don’t want them. He will forcibly impregnate, in your bed alone with you–globally.

He is a pathological liar. He says he loves you, but then he hits you. He swears you are his soulmate, but he swears it to other women behind your back. He recites poetry about the beauty of your eyes, and then he rapes you. He gaslights by continuously asserting verbiage which stands in stark contrast to his behavior. This will keep you in a state of cognitive dissonance so severe that, he hopes, you never see past his words into his empty eyes.

He doesn’t recognize you as human. You exist for him to use and abuse. You are a side-actress in a film all about him. Your job is to support him in his staring role as King of the Universe. Your internal world is not only irrelevant to him, but he does not even acknowledge its existence. Everything from mainstream media to pornography demonstrates this literally.

He has no conscience. He can lie, cheat, steal, kill, manipulate, destroy and then cry to his victims in pleas for mercy, for he was just so weak in that moment. So scared and sad and confused. Won’t you show him right from wrong, help him learn, teach him, rehabilitate him, pour your life blood into healing him? Actually, he knows right from wrong. He simply doesn’t care. But hell if women would just help him out, teach him not to rape, he’d stop doing it.

He is manipulative. Forever you’re trying to get a straight answer to simple questions. He’ll conceal everything from his motive to what he had for breakfast just for the joy of keeping his supply in a perpetual state of desperation. It makes no sense at all unless you realize that the goal is to keep you guessing, confuse you, make you believe you’re hysterical. He will play so many games that you’ll lose track of what day it is. He always has an agenda.

He isolates. Do not talk to anyone, especially other women, about what he does to you. Do not hang out with other women. Do not get outside opinions from anyone. Marriage itself is a psychopathic institution, relegating ONE woman to ONE man, alone, in the home with him, where he can do with her what he pleases. His brothers have propped up the system that will protect him if she ever fights back. Oh, and don’t you DARE meet in private, women. That’s transmisogyny, blasphemy, misandry, man-hating, evil, illegal, etc.

He plays the victim. You ignored him for 24/hours. That’s why he cheated. Then you got angry that he cheated. That’s why he punched you. And when you start to cry, he might cry as well about how awful it is that you drove him to this. You make him feel like a dog, always running back to you, even after you ignore him. He will find a way to reframe it so that you have been harming him all along by denying him totalitarian rule over your very existence.

He is callous and cold. Oh, boys will be boys. Men will be men. They just have a hard time talking about their feelings. It’s so hard for them to open up. Here’s the thing about psychopaths: they aren’t talking about their feelings cause they have none. They’ve devised a diabolical lie which asserts that their failure to act emotionally beyond the age of 5 is because they are these mysterious, machismo fuckwits who just need our coddling to open up. You’re the cold one! Hold his hand, help him express himself by projecting your own humanity onto his empty shell.

His eyes. Psychopaths are known to stare people down. Hey, the cover of any magazine with a muscle-y or manly dudebro gives ample example of what this looks like. Let’s call it what it really is: a predatory stare.

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He has a HUGE ego. You’ve never met anyone like him before. He’s not like other men. He’s God. Wait, yes, HE IS GOD. Religion says so. He is King. He is Pope. He is Politician. He is Father of the Bride and Man of the House. He is better at math, science, logic, and thinking in general. He is the Man in the Moon and the first man to walk on the moon. He is mankind. He has established the Rights of Man. Every text is about him: default “he.” And he is talking, dammit, so shut up and listen to his sermon. Oh, lastly, he erects monuments all over the Earth in the shape of his phallus.

He disregards boundaries. This guy sees you as a permeable membrane. You were created from his rib: you’re not even another person. Why should he have to ask to penetrate you? To knock down your door? To kill you? And if he does ask, or whatever, or wait until you “want” it (enthusiastically acquiesce), be assured your desire cannot be seen outside a scenario where he has been lying, manipulating, gaslighting, and degrading from the word go…hell, since you were born into patriarchy.

He is controlling. He will find a way to own you. He has all the money. All the land. All the positions of influence.

I’m running out of steam this morning. A few more: he is violent; he distorts reality; he exploits others; he wears a mask of sanity through it all; he has no empathy; he pretends to have empathy; he plays games; he stalks and harasses until he gets what he wants; he blames the victim; he is very, very sorry until you give in again; he love bombs, meaning he overwhelms you with input so you don’t have a chance to think for yourself; he first idolizes, then degrades and discards (Madonna/Whore); he is justified in all of his actions in the name of God our Holy Father, amen.

But, oh Holy Father, he is demonic. I’m not kidding with this one. In the book Women Who Love Psychopaths (which is not victim-blaming, as the title may mislead), the author says that the Number One description consistently used by women who have dealt with psychopathic men is that they are evil, demonic.

It hasn’t yet happened in full, but I sense it would take consciousness to new heights if the surge of women waking up to psychopathic abuse were to collaborate with the surge of women waking up to patriarchy. We are, essentially, talking about the same thing. There is a depth of understanding to the inner-dynamics, at a personal level, in dealing with a psychopath. What is lacking from this depth is the larger picture. What is lacking from the larger picture analysis is the depth of understanding that the women digging deep into psychopath awareness have established.

This post is so long now. I’m gonna sign off.

Full Moon Eclipse

Another big day this weekend, the cosmos kicking off a symphony of planets in orbit.

 

For this full moon eclipse, I will be sitting quietly in my circle, lighting things on fire, spinning some thread, and splashing water around. All that while working through some deeper issues. One of them is the mounting pressure I feel from deliberate re-entry to cognitive dissonance as a matter of survival and how to endure that pain.

 

Of all the mental anguish I have experienced, cognitive dissonance is by far that most painful–and the gaslighting that comes with it. They go hand-in-hand.

 

It’s gut-wrenching that waking up a radical feminist, shedding the shackles of my mind and vision, can only free up my little itty bitty corner of the universe that men haven’t taken away (and if they knew any woman had anything of her own at all, they’d show up in droves to make sure that changes). In my little itty bitty planetary space that I get to call my own, I could make changes that impacted my well-being: cut the makeup, cut contact with males, cut the heels, stop shaving, start hugging myself more often, listen to women singing, befriend women, walk more often in nature, stop lying to myself about what is wrong with the world.

 

Inevitably, radical women, like ALL women, are trapped, pinned on all four sides, from branching out with this ethos any further than our tinsy pebble we can call our own. Most of us cannot even call our own bodies our own. MOST of us. Even I cannot, for my body is consumed by the eyes and minds of leering beastly creatures all around me (men).

 

As a lesbian separatist once so lucidly and tragically relayed to me when I asked her why she is no longer a strict separatist: being poor got old.

 

That’s the catch.

 

That’s how it’s set up.

 

Men hoard resources and to get them, we have to trade the most intimate and essential parts of who we are. I’m not only talking about our bodies, but also about our sanity. When a man makes a snide comment to me, I can only fight back relative to the amount of power that particular male in that particular context has over me that he could use to strip me of resources. And men by default have more power in patriarchy, so no this shit isn’t neutral. It’s a power dynamic flowing in one direction virtually always. For example: a job. I lost one because I finally couldn’t cope with my boss repeatedly swearing he’d fuck me one day. I lost another because I asked the male customers to stop calling me baby. I even say, “Please, do not call me baby.” Even said PLEASE. When most bosses and “leaders” are male, most women have to shut the fuck up and take men’s shit, cause they have RESOURCES that we will DIE without. This is so basic.

 

By NATURAL LAW I have the right to verbally castrate a male for cutting me down, and then if he puts a hand on me, I could remove his hand from his arm. Well, that’s the way things work on my tinsy pebble anyways, so help me Goddess if a dude ever finds himself alone on my pebble and pulls that crap, he will experience the full weight of Misandry aka Natural Law.

 

What I see myself doing more than I want to, though I don’t have a choice, is carefully negotiating my sanity on a daily basis, knowing full well what I trade. I ask if it was better when I was sleeping and didn’t know what I was really being FORCED to trade for survival.

 

This post is jumping around a bit.

 

Because now I want to mention the deep despair I’ve been feeling due to how few women would rise if tomorrow were the day of women’s last reckoning. We are all negotiating survival on these terms, daily, and half are asleep. A third or more have lost their minds from the suffering and some sliver of us are wide awake with agony seeing it all play out in vivid slow-motion before our eyes, screaming in a language no one else can comprehend. Mary Daly calls it utter errata. And though there is some charming element to the notion that women are awakening to speak a language all our own….there’s also the flip side within this context of patriarchy/male domination: even if we all throw our pebbles on the table to make space, that square foot of space is the only celestial body in every galaxy where we can speak to each other at all, no matter what the language.

 

And either we have the power to overthrow this male dominance bullshit–or we do not.  

 

witchwind and FCM have been talking recently about similar issues. I’ve been hovering in silence too depressed to even write. I try a bit here and there, but what’s left to say? I’ve said what I came to say: shit’s fucked, men caused it, we gotta break free, but can we?

 

I guess “can we” is the final destination.

 

I’m stuck there and I’m afraid that we cannot. So this takes every woman then right back full circle: make the best out of hell, cause heaven is no option. Which is back to endless negotiations within fucked-upery.

 

I can’t even keep writing. This is upsetting to put to words.

 

On the full moon, I’ll occupy that space and try to heal. This is a neverending process of healing wounds that will be torn back open the moment I step off that microscopic island we get to call our home.

 

 

 

 

How to Be a Witch

Happy Vernal Equinox, Supermoon, New Moon, Eclipse, Astrological New Year. Did I miss anything? Wow!

For this Big Huge Awesome Day, I have some wishes, but the summary of those wishes is for every woman on this planet to wake up tomorrow morning knowing that she is a baddass, powerful witch. Oh, yes. Goodbye patriarchy.

How does one become a witch? What do I have to do? How do I cast a circle? How do I do magik?

A few weeks ago, I met some truly amazing women at a little pub in the middle of a freezing, snow-buried Chicago. In the dim glow of the tealight candle on our table, I took a few swigs of my beer as the women casually poked about at the rumor that I am a witch. I nervously and cordially offered up some short, succinct, safe responses that I hoped were unworthy of a stake should The Inquisition be nearby (this could be any male or madam within earshot). Say what you want about it being 2015. Until you are verbally affirming–in public, to people you’ve just met–that you are a witch, the notion of The Burning Times really is just a historical record. But when you’ve got bright-eyed women you just met asking you if you “do spells and magik and all that stuff” the past becomes more like a traumatic memory from a time in your own history much earlier than childhood and just as haunting.

Finally, I let it out. I expressed that I was uncomfortable openly talking about witchcraft at our table, wearily glancing around as I explained. I was worried about their judgement of me as well. To quote them, “Who cares what anyone thinks. We give zero fucks at this table what they think. We want to hear about it.” And then it was on. They probed further and we got into the deep end rather quickly from there.

I have been approached in many forms by so many women who have sought guidance, explanation, teaching, wisdom, insight, whatever you want to call it, about witchcraft. Oh and of course for hexes. You’d be surprised how often I am asked to hex men. This is why I am writing this now.

So, you want to be a witch?

Every woman is a witch. Just repeat three times, “I am a witch,” and it is done.

What I feel I am being asked when women come to me with these questions is for the magik formula that will transform them into whatever they see in their minds when they hear the word witch. I find myself ready to explain Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. The Circle and the Goddess(es). Yada Yada. I have caught myself a few times starting to rattle it off, too.

But that has nothing–absolutely nothing whatsoever–to do with witchcraft. Even more importantly, it is not what they really seek. It is not the robed woman over a cauldron that they want to be, though she is intriguing for sure. It’s her story that they want. The witch women seek out is that powerful creature who sparks the imagination into a bonfire at every mention. So, what I’m really hearing when women ask me these questions is: “Excuse me, how do I become me?”

Because every woman is a witch.

No woman needs to be told. She doesn’t need instruction. She doesn’t need a leader, master, or deity. She doesn’t need a single book or set of rules, not one tool, not one single solitary bit of guidance. There is nothing outside of her Self that will make her a witch, not ever. That oasis in the desert is a mirage.

How do you cast a circle? You tell me. Or don’t cast one at all. I know nothing about you and your power other than that you have it and you don’t need me at all for that.

Coming from a world where all people–and women more so than anyone–are told to look up the chain of command to find their ascension, this is heresy! Yes! Oh, yes! It is. Blessed, sacred heresy.

So my wish on this day is that this truth reverberates off the screen where I am typing it into whatever channel lends it currency as it melts into the consciousness of every woman to ever walk the Earth, now and into the future.

My hope is that when a woman finds out that I am a witch, rather than asking me to cast a spell for her, she does it herself. You do not need me for that. You need yourself. This is witchcraft. If your response is that you do not know how, well neither do I.

I will offer this much:

Sit alone with your silence. Listen.

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You make me feel like a natural woman

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    “Wait!” he calls to her, confused at her sudden change in demeanor and departure. What the fuck is wrong with this woman?
    She spins on her heels in an instant, deftly lifts the newly-acquired blade to point directly at him with an outstretched arm, and glares into his eyes. Her upper lip curls and, as if possessed by a beast, her mouth releases a low, rumbling, gutteral growl. She seems to be holding her breath otherwise, afraid to exhale out the rage and tear him to pieces. The rage petrifies her, for she fears allowing one single tremor to escape at the risk it will be too late to stop what follows. The only indication of her unraveling is at the tip of the blade where it gently quivers in her hand so steady that it vibrates an energy frequency of another dimension. She’s channeling everything through its end.
    He sucks in a breath and nearly jumps back. Eyes wide. Staring right back, those deep beautiful greens, a whole field in there, a sea.
   “The only reason I haven’t killed you is because I do not want to go to prison,” she carves out in a hushed roar.
    He feels the curse hit him in a wave, a semi truck rolling, barreling over him. Just last week she said she missed him. The week before that, she said she loved him, hoped for no harm to ever befall him. It doesn’t add up. Is she insane? How did he miss this? Surely, there had to be a clue, a sign–somewhere–that he was close to fucking up that badly. But nowhere could he rack his brain and discover the answer.
    And he was supposed to know this one. That’s your algebra, baby, that’s your fucking puzzle, bitch.
   And that is why she hates him. The fool. The fucking idiot. They never understand a damn thing, men. Never understand a damn fucking thing. Bomb it. Burn it to the ground. This temple I built for you. It’s such a familiar routine that it no longer shocks her. Just call in the squad. Level the fucking place. All the apologies she used to render when gutting some lover are redundant now. Mostly because she is no longer sorry. Not for being crazy, not for all the graves. Finally, she saw the world as sociopaths see it: they are too stupid to live. Except that in this case, the harm they cause for that stupidity is why they are not worth sorry. No, you don’t get to be stupid, not when you dabble in the universe, no. You play with Kali, with the Dark Goddess, and call yourself fucking worthy and stupid and brave and crazy. You will die. The bravado of every male will be his downfall when women reach our full power. Because given a true standard to rise to, they will all fall. None would survive. All the excuses we have made to avoid the inevitable, to prevent ourselves from being mass murderers. But it’s too late for her. Too late. She’s a killer at heart, a crazy psycho killer, and she doesn’t care anymore. They are too fucking stupid to live with weapons like that, wielded without skill, without art, without craft. Dismember them. Dispose them of their power. She’s just not sorry.
   And ho10394858_724088277632552_6454117426668900059_nw he stands there now, naively hoping it’s a bad dream, waking up, about to fall to pieces. Mercy. Mercy. Don’t you have mercy, woman?!? Where is mercy now? Don’t you like riddles you fucking scum? But if he has any sense at all, he knows this is what mercy looks like when you are as guilty as he is. All she can think about is how badly she wants to lunge at him and cut right into the largest vein in his neck, watch him bleed out onto the pavement, look into his eyes as he slowly drifts to sleep. Sing a song of hallelujah over his corpse like a disgarded marionette withering over a scarecrow on the asphalt. Laws and legal codes rolling through her wide open eyes still locked on his. She sees the police arresting her, the hearing, her face in the news. She sees that hysterical, maniacal smile she’ll give them, the women at home all understanding but pretending they don’t. Laughing in the bathrooms as they light that cigarette, turn the fan on, while the kids are sleeping or dinner is cooking, giggling: She fucking stabbed him, haha, just like that, lost her shit and just fucking killed the guy. They laugh in secret. She’s seeing the whole damn thing play out while he gives her that pathetic fucking look, the big slap of a question mark above his ridiculous face. I could scream into the void: STOP PRETENDING TO BE SO FUCKING STUPID. And they would still be that stupid. What we want is for them to just admit that they know what they have done to us. Even that little token would be enough that we’d collapse in exhaustion and weep into the dirt. Yet all any woman has or ever will get is that stupid swaying hollow shell with the clueless blank stare standing before her, and with every sinew of his body as he breathes, she wants to hold him, kiss him, caress him so badly. For this, he must die NOW before she changes her mind. Kill him now. Stupid.fucking.piece.of.shit.male.
   She lowers her arm slightly, re-aiming the blade at his weapon, that biological deformity that destroyed her. Oh, Goddess, the thought of taking it off excites her. The blood. The pinching of the testicles, tearing them off one at a time. Oh the effort to get through that entire shaft, to cut right through it! Her heart races, pounding. So much blood there would be. Smear it everywhere. Invite all your girlfriends. We’ll dance in the fucking streets and throw it around like liquid confetti.
  Wait…getting carried away here. Supposed to leave.
  She turns again, packing the storm back in like an overstuffed suitcase, stomping that shit down, zip that up. Wipe it clean. Inhale. Exhale. Walk towards your car, yes, pocket that knife. Yes. Keys in the door, get in. Sit down. Calm down. One moment. Two. Breathe. Keys in ignition. Time to go home. Today is not the day. Go back to normal life, pretend this never, ever happened. You never knew him.

Women are portals

I take this literally, but even taken metaphorically, the power still has implications. Every single living creature enters the world via a woman, and, most specifically, through our birth canals. So, if you have seen spirits, worked in magik, believe in other realms, or are an atheist, it doesn’t matter. It still stands that in order for a creature to come from wherever consciousness originates into the material world we’re in now, the way to get into this place is through a woman. We’re portals. If you sense or acknowledge anything beyond this plane of existence, the material and tangible place we’re currently residing, then everyone around you, animals included, got here by passing through the body of a woman. To the atheists, consider even the energy that goes into the creation of new life. According to Susun Weed, during a female’s reproductive years, her body is constantly amassing energy and conserving it for the chance that she will become pregnant. This energy is intended to be available to help spring new life in her womb. She gathers reserve so that another being can grow inside of her if one should arrive. When women menstruate, this energy is released (she has interesting things to say about the post-menopausal energy changes as well). In the “metaphysical” sense, this energy is referred to by many names, but a common one is kundalini. Mary Daly coined the term gynergy to describe it, which is the life force energy of women, and it emanates from our reproductive capacity. Indeed, you can see this as mystical woo woo speak or concretely as a life-force energy built up of cellular mojo ready to be used to spawn a new animal to life (and that’s actually what women accused of mystical pre-occupation are really talking about in the first place). That’s gynergy. That’s kundalini.

Why does it matter? Well, for one, humans are forever grappling with intense overwhelm at what life is and what it’s all about. The mysterious unknown of our existence drives people to fill in the blanks of what we know with whatever reasoning we feel most sure of–or to cope with the strange not-knowing. The answers to our questions are not as important as the unspoken awareness that a woman’s womb is the place where it all begins, the entry point, the portal, to this journey here called life on Earth. Men, having nothing of the sort in their anatomy or, if you see things in another light, metaphysical body, are further removed from that energy/gynergy/kundalini/life-force/creative power. The vagina is thus the omega on so many levels. Hence their obsession with wanting to enter it at all costs, create neo-vaginas, degrade the female reproductive system, control our reproductive abilities (and hence women), etc etc. I cannot speak for all women on this part, but with regards to my own personal experience, when I did still practice PIV, along with the violation of the act was this corrupted panic/fear/desperation I could sense coming off of the male and he wanted to go home. How convenient it must be to live in the world and have a whole group of people you can climb inside of to comfort your own terror at being alive. Women don’t have this option. We can never crawl back into the womb from whence we came. We’ve gotta buck up, get tough, work it out through other means, and be independent. Men, however, can and do take the easy road, most likely unconsciously. They come crawling back to mama and shrivel up into our bodies in their banal, ongoing, pathetic existential meltdowns. We’re stuck re-mothering these beast-sized children who cannot cope with being alive. Our relationship with our own being, the one with the body that creates all life on Earth (except plants, obviously), is located in the hara/root chakra/womb, aptly given special yet specious consideration across all cultures. An intimate connection to our own bodies means that our vaginas are sacred, holy, otherworldly. Yeah, damn, I’m saying it. When a man crawls up in there, he’s hitting us right in our epicenter of being. This is why rape is so profound a violation and why women seem to be the only ones grasping just how big of a blow it is to a woman. Men, being basic as fuck with their understanding of all things female, cannot readily see the grand difference between putting their dicks in us when we ask them to (and whole oodles on that for another day) and putting their dicks in us when we ask them not to. They cannot fully grasp why it’s even an injury to rape us, or, if they acknowledge it’s an injury, rarely if ever does any man understand how grave this violation is the way a woman understands it. To cover up their incompetent ignorance, they turn rape into a joke, try to side-step the fact that they really do not get it at all and are incapable of getting it, even if they gave enough of a shit that they tried. At best, they pretend to get it and have all the sad faces and rehearsed expressions of empathy on hand before they go home and fuck their wives. We know it instinctively as women. A beating men would more easily grasp, because there are marks on the body. But a rape is an invisible wound to them because they cannot be violated at such a level–they have no such level to violate. Patriarchy has done a good job of gaslighting everyone, women included, into thinking a woman’s birth canal is a fuckhole and that it’s no big deal what goes into it. This is why liberalism completely misses the mark for women. Encouraging women to have casual intercourse with men and whimsically go on with our days can only be male in design, and it serves men. The ideology trains us to view ourselves as subhuman/degraded again, because it neglects to understand how intimate this part of our body is and what intercourse really means for a woman. At the very least, it’s erasing our womanhood by setting the bar at Default Male, which is the land where intercourse means nothing except maybe, “Mommy, can I suckle off your energy for a moment? I had a bad dream where I was responsible for my own problems.” Which says a lot about men, but getting women to buy this shit is some crafty evil funk. Setting the bar at Default Male is liberal feminism at its core: to fix the problem of womanhood, erase it and forget that there ever was such a thing as FEMALE and all the implications thereof. Any attempts to re-assert the importance of a woman’s womb is immediately cast off as a collusion with the patriarchal religious lot who hold the Madonna/Whore Complex divine and exalt women’s reproductive capacities in order to justify total dominion over how they are used. Which of course is by men and on men’s terms. Either way, our bodies are not our own–if they are allowed to exist at all (liberalism)–and we cannot dig into the discussion without the jaded discourse of men pervading all analysis. They’ve spoiled every angle. That’s why we must look at this from a woman’s perspective and cut all of that out of our minds so that we can focus on what is really going on here.

We’re walking portals, one foot on each side of the worlds. Everything that comes into this plane of existence, this realm, passes through us. This is not about god or Goddess or any religion, though this blunt association with the divine is where Goddess-bound analysis takes root. The idea is that every woman is a Goddess, i.e. she’s hella precious, valuable, irreplaceable, deserving of love, and fully human, all human aspects of humanness included: bodily fluids, all shapes and sizes, hairy, animal, dynamic, corporeal. Goddess is not a floaty lady in a dress in the sky. It’s about biophilia (love of life), and life comes from our bodies, hence our bodies are the universe, the gynergetic forces of nature that erupt as the world we see around us. This is why Goddess “religion” is so wound up with Earth worship. The Earth spawns all the plant life around us. In a sense, she is a creatrix as well, and it’s about that quintessential energy which gathers itself in some form and then spews out some new beauty on the planet. That’s woman, that’s Earth.

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Consistent with this view, the target of men’s penetrative obsessions are both women and the Earth (lately, the galaxy as well, flags on the moon, etc). It’s a rage that this isn’t all about them. Or a terror that we don’t need them. Or the sense of being a huge void, having no major role in the circle of life. They are redundant. They don’t have this awesome creation ability. Not-so-ironically, they build an entire religion about how male gods created everything and even give birth to life, ha ha, and therefore they are the boss and get to dominate and rule everything and everyone they deem inferior through terror and destruction. Wait a fucking minute. It’s beyond being just a simple reversal. It’s a reversal through a broken and warped mirror. It makes them feel better and women confused as fuck, and if we venture to dig deeper, we’re lunatics or we get slapped back in line promptly. They’ve invested extensive amounts of their own energy trying to cover up what is actually happening here. Extensive amounts of energy. Anyone working THAT HARD to cover something up has something serious to hide. Their entire system is about corrupting nature/women. Why? Bloody hell, what the fuck is their problem?

Now we’ve got this new trendy trend whereby men think they can make a vagina in a laboratory, shove it up inside another man, and blammo! he’s female. The words hardly exist to express how deeply lost they must be if they even believe their own bullshit. The only way to get women to believe this shit is to abuse us to the point of passive acquiescence. Just like a psychopathic individual, it’s all smoke screens, manipulations, gaslighting, and fear mongering to keep us buying their crap. But, also just like a psychopathic individual, most cannot tell if the psychopath believes their own lies. The question tinkers on: “Are you so completely stupid that you believe what you are saying?” or “Are you so sick and sinister that you’d force others to believe this blatant lie only to serve your own narcissistic desires?” Men as a group behave like one giant hive mind of psychopathy. The whole system is psychopathic.

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Rather than men weaseling their way into our birth canals, we’ve gotta throw them off–by whatever force necessary, basically anything that works–and allow ourselves at the very least a sovereignty of body. We will never have the Get Out of Jail Free Card to just go rip into the body of another woman if we find this place too scary (and we wouldn’t want to cause apt levels of empathy ffs). BUT we at least cannot afford to be their resource for when it’s too rough for them. I know we’re compassionate beings, and we feel bad for them, poor babies are scared, and we birthed them—all of them—so the mothering impulse is easily exploited in us. We’ve gotta wean off the dudes. We do not even know fully what we are because our power is stolen from us before we ever have a chance to get to know it.

bythriftcandyonflickr

her morally delinquent concepts are upsetting good people all around the world

serval3

I’m having a pretend conversation with this woman who posted an article that made me scratch my head for 5 minutes straight. Haven’t been blogging much lately, but have been hovering and reading blogs and taking stuff in. Then I choked on this and had to retort.

It was originally posted here.

You’ll notice it’s no longer there, but it was recorded by Cathy here.

The whole article is also below, but I keep interrupting her in Ubuntu Dark Aubergine font. Her words are in lime green.

What is it with Cathy Brennan and her love for transmisogyny?

Originally posted on 11/26/2014

So yesterday I started to indulge in a little bit of reading about the self-confessed ‘gender-atheist’ Cathy Brennan. At first, whilst reading her contemptible opinions about transgender women, I was more than incensed and quite frankly, damn right astonished at her utter deluded and unfounded wordshit.

Brennan believes that the only reason people transition from male to female is because they want to enter a female-only space and commit rape…

Citation, please, to the place where Cathy Brennan has said that this is the only reason men try to “become” women.

…she also believes that the only reason people transition from female to male is because they are suffering from a patriarchy-induced self-hatred.

Again, no citation of Cathy saying this.

Wow Brennan just wow.

My initial thought was, this is one bigoted, self-indulgent little woman…

Calling an adult human female a “little woman” is misogynist.

…but as we all know, most LGBTQ bigotry is usually justified based on religion, but in this circumstance I don’t believe that to be the case. So, I went on to thinking, OK – bigots don’t think they’re bigots, they just think they’re right, which kind of sounded like the arrogant Brennan. However, something still didn’t sit right with this conclusion…

Because it’s inaccurate, that’s why.

…surely this openly out gay woman couldn’t have this much hatred for a community she was previously involved in? No I don’t believe so, so, what is her problem?

I came up with two theories as to why Brennan has so much disdain for transgender women;

Theory one: – Attention seeking personality disorder

The woman just loves drama; she will create a controversial subject and target an individual or group in order to gain attention, and let’s face it, that she has done, three cheers for you Brennan you have created quite the virtual scene, you can now consider yourself to be an infamous ‘celezbian’! As we know, attention seekers are usually emotionally immature people who have low levels of self‑ confidence and self-esteem, so they try to ease those feelings of insecurity and inadequacy by becoming the centre of attention, and of course to become the centre of attention they sometimes exhibit the behaviour of a bully, and in this case Brennan has certainly done that. But which method of attention seeking behaviour does Brennan use? – this woman, to me, stands out as none other than ‘the mind poisoner’, she is excellent at poisoning people’s minds by manipulating their perceptions of others, especially the current target, and in this case that target being, the transgender female, she just uses ‘radical feminism’ as a platform to stand on.

Brennan puts her neck out and takes a lot of heat for being a vocal woman with an unpopular view that is held by many, many women. There is an obsession with Brennan in the pro-trans community, as though she invented the critique of gender and is the only person with the perspective she holds. This is not the case. As the trans community has demonstrated time and again, with Cathy being a prime example among many, expression of an unpopular opinion (within patriarchy, this is an opinion not sanctioned by males, including transwomen) makes a woman a target for aggression and abuse. The trans community has demonstrated this by threatening to kill, dismember, beat, and rape Cathy and countless other women who have spoken out against trans politics. I haven’t seen a single death or rape threat, ever, from a radical feminist to a pro-trans individual, and I have looked for them, while those coming from pro-trans people are literally innumerable to count. The accusations that we are hateful are projections. Those who threaten to rape and kill people are hateful (and probably male), not those who disagree with someone’s philosophy on life. As someone who knows Cathy a whole heck of a lot better than the writer of this original post, I attest that your “theory one” is incorrect. Her aim is to bring attention to the issue at hand. That’s a primary goal of activism. It’s not all about Cathy. The trans community has made it all about Cathy to deflect attention away from the content of what she is actually saying, a typical move made in patriarchal society when a woman speaks up at a volume unbecoming of “ladies.” But I’ll get to that later.

Theory two: – Paranoia paranoia, everyone is coming to get me!

Maybe this woman has become so passionate about women’s rights she has mentally lost her way a little, perhaps she truly believes that transgender women really do not exist and that the men of our society are so manipulative and wicked that they really are wanting solely to become women to be part of that woman-only space and commit sexual crimes. If this is the case Brennan, I think it’s time you looked into getting some help.

Where to begin.

First: Calling women who fear male violence paranoid is a line direct from the MRA textbook to make women out as loonies for standing up for ourselves. We do a disservice to ourselves when we call women paranoid for being concerned about the very real epidemic of male violence against women. Telling her she needs to get “some help” is a misogynist relic of an era when men gave women lobotomizies or labeled us hysterical for being disagreeable about matters such as rape, forced subservience, and other forms of abuse.

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Second: It has been said more times than I can count that no one believes transgender women “do not exist.” That is not and has not ever been a radical feminist position or a position Cathy holds. There is a world of difference between believing these people do not exist and not accepting their proclamations that, whilst existing, they are females inhabiting male bodies. It is the latter we do not believe to be true. We know these men exist. They are not women, however. What’s truly baffling is that the pro-trans community thinks they cease to exist when someone disagrees with them.

Moving on from theories, I am also a tad baffled about her statement concerning ‘butch’ lesbians. She claims that ‘butch’ lesbians have not understood radical feminism, she thinks this way because in her understanding the word butch by definition means traditional ideas of maleness, so it apparently prolongs gender stereotypes. Brennan does go on to say though, there is nothing wrong with being ‘butch’ but if you define yourself as ‘butch’ that’s where the problem is, but of course she would say that, because she herself is ‘butch’. What I will say is this, just because a person may define themselves as ‘butch’ does not mean in any way that they are prolonging male stereotypes, they are simply embracing their masculinity through words, just like Brennan does through her appearance, and I think, and of course this is my opinion only, women are very much entitled to embrace their masculinity, it is a beautiful thing and perhaps the word ‘butch’ by definition may in fact mean masculine, it also means tough, strong and muscular, 3 things women can definitely be.

You’re missing the entire argument against gender by a landslide. Of course women can be tough, strong and muscular. The problem with gender, as you’ve just demonstrated by this line of reasoning, is that you think those are masculine traits. If a woman can be those things, then they are not masculine traits. They are human traits. This is why the constant jeers from the pro-trans crowd calling Cathy a man are woman-hating: the attackers suggest that a woman is not a woman if she doesn’t perform femininity, that a woman who doesn’t put on make-up and do her hair and so forth somehow becomes male. Within patriarchy, gender is the notion that a woman is the product of a femininity ritual which she must perform in order to avoid punishment for stepping outside her designated gender role by virtue of having a vagina—it is not chosen, it is forced upon females. Women who do not demonstrate their subservience to the male class by turning ourselves into sexualized objects who coo, ca, and speak softly are subject to a laundry list of various forms of abuse to force us back into line. One minor example of this is being made fun of and called a man, as the pro-trans crowd does regularly. A major example is corrective rape and murder, which is a real danger for lesbians especially.

Staying on the subject of lesbians, Brennan also claims that all feminists should be lesbians. This statement is extremely offensive to me as a lesbian woman who did not CHOOSE her sexuality. Brennan, being gay in my opinion isn’t a choice and to be a political lesbian, well that would simply be sexually boring, Brennan, where on earth is your need for human happiness? Oh wait, I think I have just found my theory number three; SOCIOPATH.

Gosh, let’s not be boring. Put “be amusing” at the top of the list. Scoot it up a few notches higher than “end global femicide” and “end global rape” and “free women from servitude.” By all means, may we never, ever become boring. It could be a sign of sociopathy, dear Goddess.

Considering what men do to women, wanting all women to be lesbians is like wanting all women to stop drinking antifreeze.

In conclusion, regardless of whether this woman is suffering from a suspicious mind, a personality disorder or she is just plain and simply bigoted, her morally delinquent concepts are upsetting good people all around the world.

Fox News just called and they want to hire you to write for Bill O’Reily.

Her words are violating and hypocritical and as a woman who believes all women should be equal, I think that Brennan needs to be ignored. Our focus should be on supporting all those people who she has discouraged and offended.

You do that. We’ll be over here…worrying about rape, murder, and enslavement of women. I am glad you’ll be taking care of the “discouraged and offended” crisis men are facing so that we can focus on our own work.

As a woman who believes in equality for ALL woman I hope that this foul mouthed woman has not ruined your perception of all cisgender women, as I for one am all about ‘supporting my sisters not just my cisters’.

I think you mean that in reverse. Okay, time for ice cream. Bye.

WTF is “Sex” Anyway?

wwomenwwarriors:

I have been wanting to write/ask essentially the same thing for ages.

Originally posted on Feed the Fishes:

(WARNING: The following post contains a plethora of quotation marks.)*

I was reading a friend’s social media page recently and saw that so-and-so was “an amazingly sexual creature.”

Lifestyle magazines tell readers to “embrace your sexuality.”

Critics of political lesbianism*, from the they’re-really-just-celibate-straights corner, are concerned that poli-lez perpetuates the idea that “lesbians don’t have sex.”

What I am wondering is what people even mean when they use words like “sex” and “sexual” and “sexuality.” When I do a definition search, I get a somewhat circular scramble leading from/to intercourse, reproduction, gametes, eroticism, libido, desire. To complicate it all for radical feminists, what most people mean by “sex” is PIV, which makes sense if derived from “sexual intercourse”/”sexual reproduction”, but then “lesbians have sex too!” and “you don’t need a penis to have sex!” What is it to “have sex”? I mean, apparently you can “have sex” with yourself or…

View original 619 more words

Life in this society being, at best, an utter bore and no aspect of society being at all relevant to women…

“Life in this society being, at best, an utter bore and no aspect of society being at all relevant to women, there remains to civic-minded, responsible, thrill-seeking females only to overthrow the government, eliminate the money system, institute complete automation and destroy the male sex.” – Valerie Solanas, SCUM Manifesto

Pretty fucking much. 

It’s not that there’s nothing to do. There’s plenty to fucking do. Laundry and cooking and cleaning. Work, pay taxes, contemplate a retirement savings for an old age that may never come. 

I have realized anew how BORING patriarchy is. The way it’s organized is mind-numbingly stupid and anti-life, anti-basic reason, dead, shallow, mundane, ridiculous, and then to top it all off: brutal and mean. Women don’t get a moment’s rest to even think about how to Be in this world in a way that is remotely enjoyable. We’re busy scraping by most of the time. A lot of us turn to drugs, alcohol, insomnia, etc. Just about all of us have spent periods of time with our heads deliberately detached from our bodies so as not to feel the lethal cocktail of agonizing boredom or boring agony. We’re all mental, that’s for damn sure, and it’s because we have to endure this shit every waking moment of our lives. 

Being awake means seeing them exploit us right in front of our faces, right to our very faces, and not being able to do a damn thing about it, cause we need that paycheck, or cannot afford to get a ticket, or don’t want to go to prison. “He’s not worth being locked up for.” I’ve heard this from so many women. Doesn’t matter if the bloke beat and raped us. We can’t do shit. We can’t even kill him, which would be natural law. 

So if we cannot even avenge for grave injustice done against us, what chance do we have of any FUN before we die? These snools are deliberately and literally stealing our lives from us. We drone on upholding their defunct stupid system while they play cards with some guards to hold us at gunpoint if we revolt. 

This is why so many women are fucking suicidal. The main difference between radical feminists and other women seems to be the degree to which we face that shit. It’s not that radical feminists KNOW anything the average woman does not. Every woman already knows what is going on. We know it when we scrub a toilet. We all know. But radical feminists are hell-bent on uncovering this information from the place in our minds that most women are perhaps wise to keep under lockdown so they can function in Bore-Ocracy, a dystopian alien planet run by psychotic murdering mutants who spend their time making toys that can explode the entire world and a few other planets in the solar system. 

“It is my judgement in these things that when you see something that is technically sweet, you go ahead and do it, and you argue about what to do about it only after you have had your technical success. That is the way it was with the atomic bomb. I don’t think anybody opposed making it; there was some doubt about what to do with it after it was made.” Robert “Oppie” Oppenheimer

Shit like ^^^^ THAT will send a woman reeling if we have to really think about it, but the truth is that shit like that is patriarchy in a nutshell, and there is nowhere to run. Patriarchy is global, pervasive, in our beds and in our minds. The part that sends me right over the edge is this: “I don’t think anybody opposed making it.” REALLY? Did you ask WOMEN? Oh, RIGHT we are NOBODY. Whoops, keep forgetting that detail. So basically we’re in the trunk of a car with the kids, Windex and gloves (cleaning it) and the driver is drunk, headed towards a cliff, and he won’t even at least let us drive so we’ll get to hell safely, cause he says we’re incapable of driving. 

Oh my Goddess, my head explodes. 

“There was some doubt about what to do with it after it was made.” Okay, dude, you’re just trolling us now. Please, for the love of all women’s sanity, do not suggest that on TOP of all this, you do not know why you built an atomic bomb. Even the ants know why men built an atomic bomb and what will be done with it. The purpose of a bomb is to blow shit up. That is the only reason for making a bomb. THE ONLY ONE. 

I need to ragequit. I am so bored I want to shoot myself fresh every morning right in the head. The reason is because life in patriarchy is death. It’s dragging a corpse to work, out into the streets to be among mutants, to fear them, to live on linear time and listen to other women talk about their shoes because they are so fucking bored they have turned boredom into a fucking art form. I want to cry. Where is the OFF switch or the OUT button?

There isn’t one. I’m STUCK on this alien planet with these psychotic murdering mutants, and they are in charge, and everything beautiful which would bring joy, they will kill. In fact, the number one factor in the likelihood that men will destroy something is that it’s beautiful and full of life. These dudes have a radar system to mutilate, destroy, distort, and suck dry every single meaningful scrap of existence they can, and I feel like I am constantly on a womanhunt trying to find an overlooked piece of bone to suck the marrow out of for some nutrients. But no. They don’t even leave behind the bones. 

And I hate their stupid military outfits. They need to get over themselves. We don’t care about your medals for shooting people or your neurotically ironed shirt and silly hat. Fuck off. 

Be-ing a Bitch with a Capital W: Radical Feminism is Witchcraft

In this Realm, Shrews shrink the alientating archetypes drawn by drones and dangled by flashers to fix/frame women in amnesic oblivion. In courses of anamnesia, of unforgetting our Archaic origins, Lusters uncover the Archimage—the Original Witch—within our Selves. We re-member Isis, cosmic writer and librarian, and weave the way toward naming our own Real Presence. Weirds conjure the Courage to Sin—to Realize be-ing. Brewsters brew potions, primevally potent. Our Archaic active powers are unleashed. Angelic forces are awakened.” – Mary Daly, Pure Lust: Elemental Feminist Philosophy, p. 31

note: All words followed by an asterisk(*) can be found in the Wickedary/Metadictionary* at the bottom of this text.

    “She’s a witch with a capital B,” the conservative Christian woman says to me, blushing, contorting her furious face in an attempt to suppress her rage. She’s as mad as she ever gets right now. Walked off the job. Quit. 
    “Is she?” I ask quizzically. My mind is too locked onto the irony, the obviousness of this, to care why this woman gets the label “bitch.” 
How did I miss that? The Original Witch is the modern day Bitch, buried, reversed, and degraded under a disguised term. It’s no accident that “witch” is the euphemism for bitch. The woman-hating word “bitch” has had the hate/fear for the Original Witch projected onto it in a deceptive reversal. Cloaked, but peaking through, in a further twist of irony when a woman finds herself too bound or too afraid of what that word means (the hate projected onto it and the horrifying Woman it describes) to utter it straight, she attempts to soften the blow by calling the woman a witch, holding in her mouth with impassioned force for the only time ever her own True Name. The Hag*, the monstrous, ugly-faced defiant Woman is a Witch*. So awful is this creature that to kill her off she must be burned in most cultures. The incineration of Women by fire is a favorite of men, from suttee to witch hunts to acid in our faces.

Rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft.” – I Sam. 15:23

But the truth is that bitch is a euphemism for the Original Witch. A bitch is a one-dimensional shadow of the witch—she’s fierce, indignant, independent, and flippant, sure. She’s also sexualized, fetishized, squished into heels and a corset, empowerfulized and full of self-loathing. The Witch is raw. She’s real, charged with force of spirit and mind, prude. She’s untouched by men, existing completely outside of parameters that register their existence in any meaningful way: they are white noise in a distance somewhere. The Witch says:

 “I am the lamp stand of a thousand flames; I am the illuminator and the Star Maiden of the celestial vaults. I clear the black clouds to allow the light of the sun…I am from the Mother of Midnight Blue, and I am from the red core of the Earth. I am the middle and the in-between of woman and Goddess and I am the mediator between illumination and ignorance. I am the Lady of knowing and un-knowing, I am the Wise Sophia wearing the flesh of the gods. I am She who walks between worlds, and I am she who speaks to you now….I am the seven fold star that unravels the mysteries of the universe. I am the seven petaled rose that reveals the true name of all that is sacred. I am the winged serpent that rises to kiss your third eye and I am the mother of blood that rises from the lava of the Earth. I know every one of your faces for I fashioned them with my own bare hands. And I know every one of your souls because I housed them within your flesh. Seek me within the darkest depths of your soul for I reside between the place of riches and glory…There is no thing that is beyond my vision, for eternity is entombed within my body, just as every child that is born into flesh has been hatched from the graveyard of my womb. For all that has come from me has come unto me, either to find rest or to find life…” (excerpt from The Charge of Inanna by Helen Demetriou)

In order to overthrow the death-cult that is patriarchy*, run by warlocks (evil male conjurers) corrupting every thread of biophilic* life with their necrophiliac obsession for suffering and oblivion, Women must rise as more than feminists of a political movement. We must dis-cover the Original Witch within us, be bitches with a capital W. Radical (elemental) feminism is Witchcraft. Every woman is a Witch. Consciousness raising is about awakening her Powerhelping her Real Eyes* to see through the veil of patriarchy’s lies in order to create a new world with precise intent.

Where Hags are, will be Spells.
Where Women are, will be Spells.”
             – Gaelic proverb

To call radical feminism a political ideology or movement is both insufficient and contradictory, because politics are part of patriarchy. To uproot patriarchy at its source requires something much more holistic and involved than politics. We must go to the root, see the seed from which patriarchy manifests. For this, we must see beyond the foreground* of sexualized imagery, ritualized hetero-relations*, phallic architecture, male godheads and their religions, nations, the monetary system, reproduction practices, thought forms (for example: linear thinking, “objective” reasoning, “logical” obsession, literary communication, etc), statistics, education, health and body disconnection, and even time (the solar calendar, linear time). Most radical feminists do this already. Our analysis of the sex trade, for example, runs deeper than compassion and a sense of justice for the women who suffer at the hands of johns and pimps. Behind the foreground of bodily invasion, malnourishment from poverty, STDs, and potential beatings, radicals see, though don’t often speak about, the Background*. In the background of the sex trade, there is the belief that a woman is a thing to be bought by a man. Behind that is the belief that Woman is not fully human as man is fully human, and not just that woman, but all women, for if any of us can be bought, then all of us are reduced by that possibility. Further, we see that this thought pattern is not happening in a vacuum. That Woman is known as a subhuman thing to be bought and violated by man in the awareness of all human consciousness affects everything else associated with the concept of Woman, of us, and we are not a concept at all, but flesh and blood. For example, that Woman is reducible to fuck object for hire by man (or not even paid in the case of unpaid rape) is consistent with the notion that Woman is also an identity to be assumed by man, and that he is Woman if he feels himself so, and especially if he becomes a human being with a hole between his legs. For Woman is a human with a hole for men to penetrate. These two intertwining chords of belief/thought are a matter of consciousness. Consciousness is what this comes down to in the end, because, unless someone is a mindless robot with not thoughts at all, every action starts with an intent, and one cannot intend anything outside of consciousness. For example, no man rapes without first knowing about rape, unless we want to argue that men act in this way as reflexively as blinking or breathing (and that would be another story entirely).

The superior learning of witches was recognized in the widely extended belief of their ability to work miracles. The witch was in reality the profoundest thinker, the most advanced scientist of those ages.” – Matilda Joslyn Gage

Radical feminism is not about politics at all. It’s about changing consciousness at will, consciousness being the utter root of the matter, and that is witchcraft. Witchcraft is about seeing the patterns, the background, the frame, the intertwining chords, the movement of energy along these chords, and then, with ever-increasing mastery of precision, reaching in like a surgeon to alter what we see. What could we do to reach in with our bare hands and rip out Rape from human consciousness so that no creature ever thinks of it again? Thoughts manifest materially. It is not enough to “outlaw” rape. It must cease to exist. It must be unconscionable. Spelling out words, we cast spells, and with music, we initiate trance, altering the deep recesses of human consciousness. If not, then what is the big deal about Robin Thicke’s Blurred Lines? People dancing, singing along, enjoying the rhythm of a chant about rape. Yes, patriarchy is witchcraft, too. It is destructive magik, magik for harm and death, not creation. The magik of patriarchy is a celebrity magazine always cluttered with images of frail women and spells asking about her unacceptable weight gain. The spell here, the background thought pattern, is that Woman is a thing on display to be scrutinized, because woman is an object rather than subject, because she is subhuman and her body is the property of others, especially men (beauty standards are about male fuckability standards). The magazine is not just paper and photos, it is propaganda covered with symbols, implicitly forming a consciousness that every man carries inside him when he interacts with Woman and that every woman carries inside as she inhabits her Self.

image from Mitchfest

Radical feminists calling themselves witches are narrowly understood to be part of a Lunatic Fringe* (indeed, we are) that is not integral to radical feminism itself. There is a knee-jerk reaction at the word witch. This is deliberate, too (herstory at large that cannot be covered here). The rebukes I see from women when another woman says that feminism is about witchcraft reminds me of the Women Against Feminism campaign. Their signs are disturbing in large part because what they have to say reveals clearly to feminists that these women do not know feminism at all and are not open or receptive to dialogue about it. The responses I see about witchcraft stir a similar feeling. There is an article on the Left Side of Feminism about how neopaganism is not helpful for feminism, and this article was circulated right after feminist witches hexed Boko Haram. I can guess the article was meant to calm our silly fervor, but all the radical elemental feminists (witches) that I know fully agree with that piece. The defeating part of it is that whoever wrote it doesn’t know what witchcraft is if it was intended as a critique of witchcraft. Neopaganism is another male godhead religion. It’s utter bullshit and misses the plot in more ways than one. A Witch reads through that nonsense like she does an article about “feminist porn” and shakes her head in dismay at the wrongness of it.  

Witchcraft is changing consciousness at will.

Will is about power.

Power is what women have had beaten and even bred out of us.

Radical feminism is witchcraft, because radical feminism is about unearthing women’s power to manifest a new world at will through the changing of consciousness, ours and the world’s. Every woman is a Witch. It is not Earth, Air, Fire, and Water, casting a circle, and chanting to the Goddess (the Verb)* unless you want it to be. It is the art of giving birth to a new world when everything has been stolen from us and we are imprisoned by creatures that keep us and our sisters under a heavy spell of submission and amnesia. It is finding a way to alter reality by seeing the whole matrix of patriarchy (patrix) and studying its weaknesses, our strengths, plotting like devious, furious Hags who re-member our Archaic past. It is re-membering our past. It is the willpower to insist on a different future. It is shattering the spells of patriarchy and rewriting consciousness through spells of our own. This does not mean “don’t protest or petition.” It means first we must see, then set our intent, learn how, and manifest. That is witchcraft, whether it be the dissemination of new symbols and imagery (propaganda), the creation of music (chants/trance), the education of youth (thought forms), the undermining of the monetary system by creating alternatives to resource procurement, connecting women to their source/bodies to generate more power they can use in our efforts, healing our Self, everything we are doing—everything you are doing—is witchcraft. If you can shake the images of broomsticks and black hats from your head, and instead see the way our consciousness is formed by the casting of thoughts into manifest reality all around us, then you’ll know that you are a witch and you have been engaged in magik constantly all your life. To deny this will not make it cease to be, but will only give your power away, and that is what men want. They know power. They never give their power away. They will sooner kill or die than give their power away. Women start to change things when we refuse to give our power away or let them destroy it.  

And what, then, is to be thought of those witches who in this way sometimes collect male organs in great numbers, as many as twenty or thirty members together, and put them in a bird’s nest, or shut them up in a box, where they move themselves like living members, eat oats and corn, as has been seen by many and is a matter of common report?” – Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger, Malleus Maleficarum (Witches’ Hammer)

I notice that it is only when my mother is working in her flowers that she is radiant, almost to the point of being invisible—except as Creator: hand and eye. She is involved in work her soul must have. Ordering the universe in the image of her personal conception of Beauty.” – Alice Walker

Selections all from

Websters’ First New Intergalactic Wickedary of the English Language

Conjured by Mary Daly in cahoots with Jane Caputi

Background n: the Realm of Wild Reality; the Homeland of Women’s Selves and of all other Others; the Time/Space where auras of plants, planets, stars, animals and all other animate beings connect.

Biophilia n: the Original Lust for Life that is at the core of all Elemental E-motion; Pure Lust, which is the Nemesis of patriarchy, the Necrophilic State. Biophilia is not in ordinary dictionaries, although the word necrophilia is. Several years after the publication of Gyn/Ecology, Biophilia was used as an elementary book title by Edward O. Wilson to promote his views on the new/old field of sociobiology.

foreground n: elementary, plastic, contrived, possessed.

Goddess the Verb: Metaphor for Ultimate/Intimate Reality, the constantly Unfolding Verb of Verbs in which all be-ing participates; Metaphor of Metabeing.

Hag n [derived fr. ME hagge, hegge…akin to MD haghetisse witch, OHG hagzissa, hagazussa harpy, witch; all fr. Prehistoric Wgmc compound whose components are akind respectively to OE haga hedge and to G dialect (Westphalia) dus devil): “archaic: a female demon: FURY, HARPY…an evil or frightening spirit…NIGHTMARE…an ugly or evil-looking woman”—Webster’s]: Archaic: a Witch, Fury, Harpy who haunts the Hedges/Boundaries of patriarchy, frightening fools and summoning Weird Wandering Women into the Wild.

Hetero-relations n: “the wide range of affective, social, political, and economic relations that are ordained between men and women by men.” – Janice G. Raymond

Lunatic Fringe: {“the members of a group (as a political or social movement) espousing extreme, eccentric, or fanatical views: an extreme or wild group on the periphery of a larger group or of a movement”-Websters} 1: Crackpot Crones in tune with the moon, propelled by Pure Lust, who dare to Spin Wildly, always 2: the truly moving center of the women’s movement, comprising those who choose always to Survive/Thrive on the Boundaries, refusing compromise.

Metadictionary n: Metapatriarchal dictionary, written by and for Wicked/Wiccen Websters; dictionary that Gossips out the Elemental webs of words hidden in patriarchal dictionaries and other re-sources. WICKEDARY.

patriarchy n1. society manufactured and controlled by males: FATHERLAND; society in which every legitimated institution is entirely in the hands of males and a few selected henchwomen; society characterized by oppression, repression, deression, nacissism, crueltly, racism, classism, ageism, objectification, madomasochism, ecrophilia; joyless society, ruled by Godfather, Son, and Company; soceity fixated on proliferation, propagation, procreation, and bent on the destruction of all Life. 2: the prevailing religion of the entire planet, whose essential message is necrophilia.

Real Eyes: the Authentic, Elemental, wild capacity to Realize. Example:

“I looked at my hands to see if I was the same person now I was free. There was such a glory over everything. The sun came like gold through the trees, and over the fields, and I felt like I was in heaven.” – Harriet Tubman

Re-membering: 1: Re-calling the Original intuition of integrity; healing the sidemembered Self—the Goddess within women; Re-calling the Primordial connections/conversations among women, animals, and Other Elemental beings. 2: Realizing the power to See and to Spell out connections among apparently disparate phenomena: Spinning; Creating

Witch [derived fr. A.S. wicce. Allied to M.Du. Wicker, ‘a soothsayer.’…Cf. Norw vikja, (i) to turn aside, (ii) to conjure away….Thus witch perhaps = ‘averter.’—Skeat’s]: an Elemental Soothsayer; one who is in harmony with the rhythms of the universe: Wise Woman; Healer; one who exercises transformative powers: Shape-shifter; one who wields Labrys-like powers of aversion and attraction—averting disaster, warding off attacks of demons and Magnetizing Elemental Spiritual Forces.