I Am A Feminist.

I am a Feminist. I will put my hand up and shout loudly that I AM A FEMINIST. I am getting more and more pissed off with the continual attempt to make Feminism out to be something it isn't, and that any one who considers themselves to be Feminist is somehow a misandric sociopath.


WHY I AM A FEMINIST:

 * I have automatic and autonomous rights to my own reproductive system and sexual behaviour.

 * I have the same right to work, earn money, save money, spend money as any other individual, irrespective of their gender. If I am have the same experience and qualification, am doing the same work at the same level of competence, then I have the right to the same pay.

 *I also have the right to choose a more traditionally viewed way of life, to stay at home and raise my children. However, this right is also not dependent on my gender and is a role that any parent should be able to choose, rather than have to make a decision purely based on economics.

 * I believe that sex is a natural part of healthy life, that has been trivialised and demeaned to a state where it is used a commodity to subjugate society into behaving in particular ways.

 * I believe that raising healthy, independent children is one of the most important things that human beings can achieve, but there is no BEST way of doing this, and the hetero-normative view of Married, Female Mother and Male Father is not always the best way of achieving this.

 * I believe that all people are equal, and this equality is not defined by gender, sexuality, religion, race or any other such definition. I do also accept that equality does not mean that every one is the same, and should be treated as such. Every person will have different needs or have different limitations, just that no one person is worth more than someone else.

I could elaborate more on these points, and add more, but I think at this time, this encompasses the most salient points of my Feminism.

More Links to my Feminism:
http://hystericaljugglings.blogspot.com/2010/10/what-would-you-call-it-then.html
http://hystericaljugglings.blogspot.com/2009/03/froyw.html http://hystericaljugglings.blogspot.com/2008/10/pro-choice-does-not-equal-pro-abortion.html
http://hystericaljugglings.blogspot.com/2008/09/quick-simple-post.html
http://hystericaljugglings.blogspot.com/2008/09/fertility-at-any-cost.html
http://hystericaljugglings.blogspot.com/2008/09/feminism-for-all.html
http://hystericaljugglings.blogspot.com/2009/03/patriarchy-hurts-men-too.html

Sorta Rape, Not Real Rape... (Warning...possible triggers.)

There has been a lot in the press this week stemming from comments made by a couple of Conservative MPs (and one MEP.)

Firstly Nadine Dorries introduced the Bill, that if passed would mean that girls between the ages of 11-15 would have lessons in sexual abstinance. Just girls, mind you. Not boys... Guardian article on the Bill

Then in a television interview, she came out with, I quote;
“If a stronger ‘just say no’ message was given to children, there might be an impact on sex abuse. A lot of girls, when abuse takes place, don’t realise until later that that was wrong because sex is so common in society."

Later that same week, Ken Clarke came out with comments that could be construed as meaning that some rapes are somehow less than other. He did try to clarify what he meant, but still managed to show his little understanding of what he was talking about in the first place. Ken Clark Clarifies?

He was then defended by the MEP, Roger Helmer, who definitely feels some rape is worse than other rape. "Women share some of the responsibilty"

Let's just say it's been a bad week for Tory politicians opening their mouths without thought, but also a bad week for us all when we look at these views in a broader perspective.

Nadine Dorries...WTF? Seriously? My mind cannot comprehend that a modern woman would come out with this claptrap. But when you take on board her religious and political beliefs (Fundie and very RightWing) it all becomes clear. I really don't even have to pull her ideas apart to show how ridiculous they are. But unfortunately, there are those that while agree that her Bill for single sex abstinance education is ridiculous fail to see how those ideas translate into the comments that her male colleagues make later in the week.

If we are teaching young girls that they must hold ALL sexual responsibility, as women, they STILL must hold that responsibility at all times, and if they are raped, then somehow it must be their fault. Your clothing, your attitude, your whereabouts, your alcohol consumption are all questioned in an attempt to show how a woman's actions contribute to her rape. And if you happen to be raped by someone you know (the majority of all rapes) then all of that, AND your sexual history is taken into account.

Dorries' comments that “If a stronger ‘just say no’ message was given to children, there might be an impact on sex abuse. A lot of girls, when abuse takes place, don’t realise until later that that was wrong because sex is so common in society."

Because when a sexual predator is about to abuse someone, saying no always stops them...What? You mean it doesn't?

Abuse isn't about sex. Like rape, abuse is about POWER! The power of one person over another!

I know I will be preaching to the converted here, but rape and abuse is about violent power over another. It isn't just about sex, or sexual gratification, it has a whole load of other nasties wrapped up along with it.

But the bottom line is, if a woman or man says they don't want to have sex at ANY point of the act, they have that right, and whoever they are with MUST STOP NO MATTER WHAT!

It infantalises and demeans men when the notion that they are somehow incapable of stopping having sex at any given moment is put forward as an excuse, and that when they have an erection or intercourse, that their minds switch off entirely and they become little more than drooling sexual automatons.

On a very personal note, I will share some of my more nasty sexual experiences...(Possible Trigger Alert)

The first time I had sex. I was sixteen, a bit of a social klutz, and generally a bit of a emo teenage mess. I was unsure if I wanted to do anything, but found myself led along and plied with alcohol, so when I really did want to stop, it didn't happen. I "changed my mind" at the last moment, so I know that I fall into that catagory of "it's not proper rape", but imho he had the power, he didn't stop when I wanted him to, and while I don't feel I have any long lasting damage from the event, it still means the first time I had sex is not something I feel fondly about.

I once met someone and went on a few dates with him. He was quite a bit older than me (at Uni while I was still at school.) He was nice enough, and then one Saturday morning, I met him at his digs thinking we were going to go out. As I turned up, his housemates were leaving. He was still in a dressing gown. To cut a long story short, I spent most my time trying to fend off his advances, to stop him trying to "persuade" me to go upstairs with me, and it ended with me managing to get out of the house. (Thank the Gods it wasn't locked.) and ran to a friend's house around the corner. At her house, I managed to rearrange my clothes and refasten my bra that he had managed to undo. Was this a sexual assault? Probably. Did I tell anyone other than my friends? No. Did I think I was an idiot for getting myself into that situation? Yes. However, I didn't ask for any of it, I wasn't expecting it, and why should he have thought he could get into knickers just because he felt like it.

On more than one occasion, I have had my hand forced down someone's trousers to get them off. Even to the point, that the young man in question didn't want me, he wanted my friend, but when I went out of the party to tell him that, he felt he would make do with me instead...

I have lost count of the times I have had my breasts groped and poked by men thinking that because I have spoken to them, maybe even kissed them, that I was "up for it".

It doesn't happen anymore. I am older and wiser and know how not to get myself into those situations. (Or as some arse would say, I am fatter and uglier now...a whole different issue in itself).

I never reported or told anyone (who could/would do anything about them) about these incidents, but I can guarantee that every woman out there probably has similar tales. Does this mean we were all asking for it?

Touch me.

The softest, slightest, gentlest touch from the tips of your fingers.
Your hand tightly, firmly holding my wrists together
As your other closes the steel cuffs.
The opposites of sensation.
Is all I want from you.

Overemotional?

When people meet me for the first time, and possibly for a few more times, they seem to get the impression that I am a hard-nosed cow. And tbh, I probably am. It takes a long time for me to be completely open with someone, and sometimes it doesn't happen at all. It wasn't always like that. Too often I would meet someone that I felt had a certain kindred spirit quality about them, and I would burn too hot, reveal too much, and get my fingers burnt.

I could be too enthusiastic, too full on, and too much. No one seemed to be able to cope with the unabashed me. So the walls went up. And up and up.

The problem with these Great Walls of Hysterical Juggling means that all the emotion and feeling that would spew forth with abandon is kept in, safe and quiet to the outside, yet constantly bubbling away like a great big Cauldron of Power. Occasionally it erupts and can be a force for good or for evil depending on the situation.

I need to be able to dismantle these walls, but rein the emotional abundance in. I know there is nothing wrong with emotion, but mine have always seem to frighten people. They just don't GET it, they don't GET me.

However, I am very much getting to the stage in life where I don't care about that anymore.

Does it matter that I cry at mushy films, at poetry, at music, in empathy to someone on the telly, in real life etc?

Does it matter that I have to turn off the news because I become overwhelmed by the sadness, trauma, hatred that we are constantly bombarded with?

Is it wrong that the more I hear about the state of the world and what the "governments" of the world are doing to it, and I want to scream in their faces "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

Is it wrong to want to teach my children survivalist skills, because I am coming to the conclusion that they, or their children are going to need them?

Am I the only one that wants to wear pink leopard spotted high heels, dance on tables, drunk on red wine, kissing strangers and jumping in fountains?

Am I the only one that wants to run through the woods at night, and skinnydip in the moonlight?

Am I the only one that looks at a life that isn't bad in any way, but it isn't the life that they ever expected...?

Blodeuwedd

She seems to be popping up all over the place at the moment. And I have always had a soft spot for her ever since my first Goddess Conference. (I attempted to dress up as Her at the Ball.) I always felt that there was more to Her story than just the cliched betrayer she is portrayed to be.

BLODEUWEDD

Within the Celtic Tradition, storytelling has long been a favored occupation and, generally speaking, the longer and more intricate the story, the more revered the legend and the teller. Long held as the embodiment of most ancient Welsh legends is the Mabinogion. The story of Branwen is contained therein, as is the legend of Blodeuwedd. In order to offer some sort of clarity to these legends it is necessary to give you some background in the history of the Celts and, therefore, shed some light on the intricacies of the stories. The Celts, historically, were matrilineal; you were born to your mother’s line, not your father’s. Kingship, therefore, landed upon the son of the king’s sister and not upon the offspring of the king and the queen. Very often, too, the queens were the actual power, with her spouse being a Duke of War, rather than a true king. In order to be a king, one had to marry the land in order to demonstrate his devotion to the sovereignty. Often, this marriage was symbolic and accomplished by the practice of the Great Rite between the proposed king and a priestess of the Goddess. The commission of this act would ensure the king’s love for the land and a lifelong desire to defend her as he would his wife. It is also important to note that there is no Goddess of Love, such as Ishtar, Aphrodite and Venus in other cultures, but there were, throughout the legends, Maiden Goddesses made of flowers or fruit. The most important aspect of the Goddess is triune in nature - the Maiden, the Mother and the Crone - and most legends involve three Goddesses representing these three aspects.

The Legend of Blodeuwedd is also the story of Llew’s struggle for his kingship which was averted and made more difficult by the Goddess Arianrhod who tried Her best to prevent Llew, Her son, his birth-right due to the shame brought upon Her by his companions. (Another story which will be told later.) In short, Arianrhod stated that he would not receive a name, unless it be from Her; he would not receive his arms, unless it be from Her; and, he could never marry a mortal woman. Thus, he could not become king unless it be through Her auspices. In order to assure that Llew would survive long enough to attain his kingship, some magick was given to him in the form of the circumstances of his death. As has been typical of the Celts, his death could only be accomplished through a set of very unlikely and almost preposterous circumstances. He could not be killed indoors or out, on horse or on foot, and the spearhead capable of killing him had to be cast during a sacred period of time. Arianrhod was tricked into giving Llew his name and his arms but the larger problem of having a wife, which would assert his right to the land, was accomplished through the magick of his cousins, Math and Gwydion, who created Blodeuwedd from the flowers of the Oak, Broom and Meadowsweet. Due to the nature of Her Birth, Blodeuwedd - whose name means either ‘Flower Face’ or the ancient name for the Owl - and represents the Earth in full bloom. Through their marriage, Llew’s requirement of marrying the land and thus, his Sovereignty is completed. One day, Llew goes hunting, leaving Blodeuwedd alone with Her ladies in the castle. A young huntsman, Gronw, later seeks shelter and he and Blodeuwedd experience love at first sight. Wanting nothing more than to be together, Gronw persuades Blodeuwedd to discover the improbable circumstances surrounding Llew’s death, an act he would help to accomplish. The plan made, Gronw departs from Blodeuwedd and they remain separate for a long period of time, during which Blodeuwedd feigns anxiety concerning Llew’s death. Eventually, Her pleading persuades Llew to demonstrate these very circumstances in order to allay Her fears by showing Her his death could not be easily accomplished. They prepare a bath on a riverbank, covering it with a thatched roof, being neither indoors nor out. As Llew stands with one foot upon the edge of the tub and the other upon the back of a goat, Gronw throws the specially-made spear, hitting Llew in the side. Llew immediately turns into an eagle and flies off, later discovered and nursed back to health by his cousins, Math and Gwydion. When the two lovers are found, Gronw is killed and Blodeuwedd turned into an owl.

Due to the very circumstances of Her Birth, the actions of Blodeuwedd may be seen in a more sympathetic light. She was created from the flowers of a very powerful Tree - the Oak - and from flowers of an explicitly healing nature,in order to give power to Llew and to be able to continually heal and renew him. She is never asked whether She loves him or desires to marry him. She was created for his purposes, solely to assure his right to rule the land. Her Own desires are impossible to achieve while Llew lives and She is often seen as the epitome of non-assertive femininity, fickleness and the faithless wife, using the passion of two men for Her to seal the doom of both. In truth, Her supposed treachery creates the very conditions to enable Llew to experience the ritual death and rebirth commonly required of the Druidic priesthood, thus ensuring his kingship. Blodeuwedd is seen as a part of his hard and difficult destiny. Throughout Celtic legend, otherworldly women are created and utilized to represent the Land, which is definitely feminine in nature. Owl, the totemic representation of Blodeuwedd, signifies the complete transformation of the initiate as represented by Llew‚s virtual death and subsequent healing. She is signified by the Empress card of the Tarot. She is a Goddess of emotions, representing the matrix that reforms transpersonal and universal energies into well-defined life force. She is also the Maiden Goddess of initiation ceremonies and is known as the Ninefold Goddess of the Western Isles of Paradise. Flowers, the wisdom of innocence, Lunar Mysteries and initiation are Her provinces.

Winter Cymraes
©1994

Blodeuwedd Rising (Song for Hazel)

Summer 2007

by Jacqui Woodward Smith Blodeuwedd, Magdalene of Springtime Sweet flower face with wings of snow You are the gateway to the seasons Fierce in passion, eyes aglow And You will rise in fearless beauty Afraid of You, they change Your face But we remember Your true nature; Reclaim Your love, Reclaim Your place Defiled and changed and called a whore If whore You are then so am I As whore I'll be Your temple priestess And You will give me wings to fly Reclaim the whore and rise in beauty With Goddess spirit deep within Knowing our own Goddess nature How dare they name our passion sin! No one can shackle or control You Owl of Secrets, flying free No chains to bind Your hungry spirit With You beside, no chains on me And we will rise in raging beauty To be what we've been all along When we can stand alone as equals We will sing Blodeuwedd's song They left us here in silent fury Thought that they had won the game But as we reclaim our ancient birthright Blodeuwedd will rise again And we will rise in naked beauty Revealing all we have to give Loving in the ways we choose to Deciding how we want to live They try to make us pretty blossoms Deny our claws, deny our power But we must claim our truth and freedom To choose the owl, to choose the flower And we will rise in powerful beauty Surrender to Blodeuwedd's cry She draws us to the path of moonlight On owl wings we must learn to fly No one has the right to harm us To name and shame, abuse and scar us Call us hag and call us bitch. Reclaim the owl, reclaim the witch! And we will rise in all our beauty For we have heard Flower Face's call Our bodies glowing with our passion Both owls and flowers, Priestesses all! ©Jacqui Woodward Smith

Not sure where the image of Blodeuwedd is from. But it's lovely.

What happens when we sanitise all that scares us?

Twilight.

Or Twiglet as some of my friends and I like to call it. A strange phenomenum indeed. An asexual, moralistic, non-sensual vampire. All that makes a vampire a vampire is taken away and what are we left with? Edward Cullen? Really?

Or are we willingly wrapping up wolves in sheepskin that we have given them? Are we glossing over the overt sexuality and violence of a vampire, because we don't like the fact we find it attractive?

Pubescent girls and older women? What do they have in common? I mean I can fully appreciate that Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner are nice to look at. (Well, sorta, add 10 years on both, and I'd like them more)

Can I be provocative and suggest that the similarities between the TwilightTweens/Teens and the TwilightMoms are that both are often at stages in their lives where circumstances have put them into positions they aren't really comfortable with. A young teen is restricted by her age and her financial dependance. Her sexuality is under constraints from her family and her society. Ummmm, hate to say this, but you could also say that about a lot of older women!

But make a sexual predator somehow safe and acceptable, then all that hormonal emotion can be concentrated on the fantasy of Edward Cullen. The young girls really don't know what he like, so feel safe, and the older women do know what he is like, but also know that he has been somewhat castrated, and is again, safe.

Are we so afraid of sex, that our only openly acceptable fantasy is a vampire stalker who will love us forever, but manipulates our sexuality to gain power over us?