For the record, I refuse to join MENSA they’re bores.
This used to be science fiction. It used to be horror.
The Screwfly Solution (1977), Raccoona Sheldon, in which men wipe out women and the system nods approval.
Now it’s just the day to day: men destroying women. Butch women, non-gender-conforming women being simply erased.
Womyn, 2015: “We are the dead,” as Orwell wrote.
Is there no way to fight anymore?
I was thinking this morning that trans* activism is like MRSA. I think we lost the plot when the ERA didn’t pass. It’s like we didn’t take the full dose of antibiotics, we didn’t manage to eradicate the inequality, the misogyny, and those little remnants of it grew back over the next decades as a slightly different beast, a stronger beast, impervious to the reality of patriarchy. Impervious to consciousness raising. Impervious to all our old tools of battle.
(*If cis is the word, then I’m always going to…
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I greet this Summer morning
With the peacefulness of a day of rest
After a day of fierce activity.
Peace in spirit
Peace in mind
Peace in body.
May this peace stay with me
All this day
And all this night.
I ask the blessing of nine
Qualities of Summer:
Ephermeralness of dragonfly
Metamorphosis of butterfly
Beauty of flower
Resilience of a blade of grass
Persistence of seed
Growth of vine
Humour of crow
Laughter of raven
Patience of spider
May these nine blessings
Stay with me today
Until fall of night.