• hopilavayi: an erotic dictionary

memories of my ghost sista

~ the dead are never satisfied

memories of my ghost sista

Category Archives: Feminism

THE FOOL [0] Soul of the Stukhtra

05 Thursday Jan 2023

Posted by babylon crashing in Feminism, Illustration and art, Tarot

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quote unquote, Syssk, Tarot of Syssk, the fool

Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun. Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-eight million miles is an utterly insignificant little blue-green planet whose ape-descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still think digital watches are a pretty neat idea. This planet has – or rather had – a problem, which was this: most of the people living on it were unhappy for pretty much all of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movement of small green pieces of paper, which was odd because on the whole it wasn’t the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy. And so the problem remained; lots of people were mean and most of them were miserable, even the ones with digital watches. ~ Douglas Adams

All stories must start somewhere.

In your grandmother’s Tarot deck the Fool is the ultimate free spirit, that proto-Flower Child who is the embodiment of beginnings, innocence and spontaneity. It is the first and last card since Zero is liminal, being both everything and nothing. We like to remind ourselves that, “We are stardust, we are golden/ We are billion-year-old carbon.” All this is true, and yet the gendered essentialism found in so much of that Tarot deck will only take us so far. Perhaps to the cliff for you, but certainly not over it for me. For that we need to find something else. As Nancy Baker puts it:

There’s a strong streak of anti-essentialism in Feminism, just as there is in Buddhism. It is the understanding that something like gender is not fixed or absolute, that not all women or men have some masculine or feminine essence that defines them. To put it in Buddhist terms, gender has no “self-nature.”

Western Pop Culture likes to claim that Buddhism is logical, agnostic and liberal in matters of gender and sexuality, conveniently overlooking all the misogynist views that the Buddha himself had about women, “of all the scents that can enslave a man none is more lethal than that of a woman.” For those of us who refuse or attempt to transcend such man-made concepts this critique is important because what we are searching for is liberation. There is nothing “enlightened” in any social structure that clings to ideas of rigid sexual morality and assigns half the world a secondary role simply by existing.

“Do not go where the path may lead,” Ralph Waldo Emerson reminds us, “go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”

How Syssk found herself marooned in ancient Japan, surrounded by folks who consider her unenlightened simply by existing is unimportant. The question isn’t whether she is capable of spiritual growth, we are all capable of that, the question is what are the forces attempting to block her and you from that growth? Discard everything that gets in your way and The Way (The Tao) opens before you.

This is Syssk’s path and so it will be ours as well.

[an earlier version of the fool; the design of the xenomorph was much closer to h.r. giger’s original vision, though the blue figure was taken directly from robbie morrison’s shakara (2012) … always cite the sources that you purloin]

NOTES ON NOTES:

I have been told that my handwriting is almost illegible, so I will reproduce my notes here:

Sibylline Xenomorphia

In almost all the riddle-like koan the striking characteristic is the illogical or absurd act or word. A monk once asked, “What is Buddha?” The master replied, “Three pounds of flax.” Or a Zen master remarked, “When both hands are clapped a sound is produced; listen to the sound of one hand.” ~ Heinrich Dumoulin

I alone seem to have lost everything. Mine is indeed the mind of a very idiot. So dull am I. The world is full of people that shine; I alone am dark. ~ Tao Te Ching

Chaos is the Formless Void but the Void is not Chaotic.

My soul is a black maelstrom, a great madness spinning about a vacuum, the swirling of a vast ocean around a hole in the void, and in the waters, more like whirlwinds than waters, float images of all I ever saw or heard in the world: houses, faces, books, boxes, snatches of music and fragments of voices, all caught up in a sinister, bottomless whirlpool. ~ Fernando Pessoa

Giving birth to nothingness/ Giving birth to death/ Such terrible words/ I heard on the border/ Between dream and reality ~ Yosano Akiko

because I don’t have spit/ because I don’t have rubbish/ because I don’t have dust/ because I don’t have that which is in air/ because I am air/ let me try you with my magic power ~ Anne Waldman

enthralls

09 Thursday Jul 2020

Posted by babylon crashing in Erotic, Feminism, Poetry, sonnet

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conversations with imaginary sisters, enthralls, erotic poetry, make it vulgar, poem, radical change, sex positive feminism, sonnet

After class you lingered, interested if
I’d help with your homework on pro-sex

feminism? –– back home? –– over a spliff
and witch wine? Liberation is complex.

You peeled out of your dress. We fucked; ragdolls
smeared with cum. Sexual freedom is rare ––

but we have choices –– and lust that enthralls;
lust that saves radical change from nightmare.

Affair without nightmare. Broken fuck toys
healing. “No, here,” you say, guiding my cock

to your ass’ gaped O –– “Make it vulgar.”
Vulgar pleases. We make fuck-slushy noise.

We laugh. Others will call this porn and schlock.
This bliss is what others want to censure.

Image

moxie

01 Friday Nov 2019

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atlas, certain physiques, men's myth, moxie, poem, Poetry, sonnet, why I need Feminism

First I drew her muscles. She had obliques
that would make titans sigh. Her broad shoulders

carried the weight. There are certain physiques
only found in men’s myth, though the daughters

of the gods come in all sizes. I drew
her as she held the world aloft. It’s odd

to call Atlas male. The one that I knew
had no machismo … just mortal, no god,

no false ennui. At her feet I drew her
sisters. That’s who she carried this for, with

a horned-moon on her forehead, storms above
her hips. — I’ve never had a big sister

like what I drew; one made not from men’s myth
but her own common muscles, common love.

Posted by babylon crashing | Filed under Feminism, Poetry, sonnet

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blue-fox acid

03 Tuesday Sep 2019

Posted by babylon crashing in Feminism, Poetry, sonnet

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ars poetica, blood of witch and nerd, blue-fox acid, gnostic libation, poem, Poetry, seraphic truth, sonnet

All my sisters are feminists; all my
mothers gods. But, like in Recovery,

there are three passions that I still deny
I do: 1) Of the tricksters, that foxy

blue-fox acid drove all my low gnostic
thoughts. 2) Once cum was our libation;

now it’s sacrifice. 3) I was shaman
for you, infidel. Back when seraphic

truths felt down and dirty, I thought constant
carnal acts could free us, since chastity

was a curse. I was wrong both times, clearly.
Odd. These days there’s no talk of cock or cunt,

and though I have the blood of witch and nerd,
somehow, “lechery,” is just one more word.

fucktard

11 Wednesday Jul 2018

Posted by babylon crashing in Feminism, Poetry, self-portrait, sonnet

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fucktard, poem, Poetry, queer love, sonnet, stay classy, we love, we rise, words always matter

We are swine, wild boars among the bluegrass

and salt-stained rocks. We are bitches, each teat

 

engorged, each rump distended. We are sass

and rage. Each foul word you use to mistreat

 

others — fucktard, ignoramus, nitwit —

that is us, too. Why does liberation

 

for you crave vile behavior? I’m unfit

to judge, clearly. Still, I love my cousin

 

even if my cousin doesn’t love me.

Today’s rebel is tomorrow’s tyrant

 

without this connection, without these ties

to each other that make us family.

 

We own the words that you use: faggot, cunt,

‘tard. So we defy you. We love. We rise.

ch’iu chin: i die unfulfilled

11 Wednesday Oct 2017

Posted by babylon crashing in Chinese, Feminism, Historic Research, Poetry, Translation

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ch'iu chin, Chinese translation, 秋风秋雨愁煞人, essay, i die unfulfilled, Poetry, Qiu Jin, translation

autumn rain/ autumn wind/ i die unfulfilled

Poetry translation is never an exact science. Taking a concept, rich with metaphors, from one language and somehow then discovering a similar meaning in another has challenges. How does one find that original essence – the core of what the poet was trying to say – in an alien tongue? I have always found translation to be a synthesis of everything that has been done before my attempt and then a smoothing out of all the rough bits into something that sings to me. If there was a philosophy to this it’d go: be illiterate in all languages, just resonate with the soul of what is being said. I suppose that is the difference between professionals and amateurs. I will always be an amateur. To misquote the Japanese haiku poet Issa: “there will always be farmers/ laboring in the fields/ I don’t feel guilty.”

Today I turn my attention to the Chinese radical feminist, revolutionary and martyr, Ch’iu Chin (better known through modern translation as Qiu Jin). If you’ve never heard her name before just know this: she was a lesbian poet who tried to overthrow the Qing dynasty in 1907 and then was executed, beheaded. One day someone will translate all her poetry, essays and speeches into English and that will be a blessing. Just now I am only looking at her last words, her death poem. They’re simple, they look like this:

秋风秋雨愁煞人

Technology fails us. According to Google Translate we get, “Autumn autumn rain sad people.” which are at least English words strung together in some sort of order. And yet they fail to capture any meaning of these words. First let me reprint the best translation that I’ve found:

Autumn rain, autumn wind/ I die of sorrow.
[from the documentary, Autumn Gem]

Now let me tell you why this is so good. Ch’iu Chin’s name literally translates into, “Autumn Gem,” and the ‘autumn’ is the metaphor that works in this poem. By the time of her capture she was burned out, depressed and had realized that her revolutionary goals would never happen. She let herself be captured and executed so that she could become one of the Chinese heroines of myth who rose up to fight for women during times of oppression.

As one says, there are no bad translations, just different interpretations. I point out these simply because they were faithful to the words on the page but the translators did not seem to know why the words were written:

O Autumn Winds chilly, O Autumn Rains chilly, (Why you are spilling)
Frank C Yue

Autumn wind autumn rain makes one gloomy
Lu Yin, from Imagining Sisterhood in Modern Chinese Texts, 1890–1937

For whom does the autumn rain and wind lament?
Sjcma

All of which, out of context, still works. Getting executed would make one gloomy. Then there is the fact that Ch’iu Chin became a symbol for the 1911 Revolution and her words were used to express the woes of other people, and thus we get the royal ‘we’

Autumn wind and rain have brought overwhelming grief to many
Albert Chan

The sorrow of autumn wind and autumn rain kills
China Heritage Quarterly

Again, this is all just a matter of interpretation of what comes before. Like I said, I can’t read Chinese, I can just guesstimate from the works of others. If I’m wrong … then I’m wrong and this was just a curious post won’t mean anything. Still, I love the poetry of Qiu Jin and if I can be part of helping her find an English audience then my day is good. Two translations that I think are kind of marvelous:

Autumn wind and autumn rain often bring forth unbearable sorrow
Alan Cykok

The autumn wind and autumn rain agonize me so much.
Badass Women of Asia

Quote

book review: a history of Armenian women

22 Monday Feb 2016

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenia, Feminism, quote unquote

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Anahit Harutyunyan, Anet Shamirian, Armenian feminism, pinkarmenia, reblog, The Century of Outstanding Women

taken from the website, PINKArmenia:

History shows, that Armenian women have long taken part in public life. During different centuries women’s participation in public life was expressed in various ways. Armenian women, indeed, have left their trace on the course of Armenian history, and, despite the statement that Armenian is a revered nation, today we don’t know about the outstanding women of our own history.

Do they do not deserve to be mentioned? Were these women not influential enough? Why don’t we know about them?

For centuries many of our intellectuals have referred to women’s issues, and have followed their political and social activities. The situation differs now. Few of our intellectuals refer to women’s activities, but, nevertheless, there are still those who are trying to revive long-forgotten history of our women intellectuals, politicians and public figures, artists and other influential individuals.

Anahit Harutyunyan had a great contribution in the process of introducing to us our ancestress. She is the author of the book “Century of Outstanding Women”, which covers notable Armenian women’s social activities at 19th and 20th the beginning of centuries.

Based on historical facts, it becomes clear, that men and women were equal in Armenian society. In our history women didn’t have a subordinate position nor did they have the stereotype that a man should rule over his wife. In fact, this model, which dates back centuries, is quite unfounded.

This book creates a clear picture of an old, traditional family. The book describes the role of men and women not only in the family, but also in social and political spheres. It is important to mention that in Europe, until the 20th century, women were fighting for their right to vote, while in Armenia, during the establishment of the First Republic (1918), the question didn’t even arise whether women can vote or not? Armenian women both voted and were elected. In Parliament of First Armenian Republic, there were three women: Katarine Zalyan-Manukyan, Varvara Sahakyan, Perchuhi Partizpanyan-Barseghyan. Throughout the end of the 19th century and the beginning of 20th century women’s issues dominated in Armenian media.

Women’s involvement in social sphere was also great. After working out the struggle of National Liberation, the problem of enlightenment arose, without which it would be impossible to unite the nation. It was decided that women could best solve the issue of education, so, at first, it was determined that women needed to be educated. All Around Eastern and Western Armenia schools for girls were opened. That was a powerful movement which was justified. After leaving schools, girls were founding organizations, 90 percent of which were in charge of educational affairs. These women left a huge trace on the history of education.

“The Century of Outstanding Women” breaks many stereotypes about Armenian women and female-male relationships, which have existed in our society for centuries. It browses dusty pages of our history: we can’t read this history in any textbook and there are few who are able to recount these stories. Unfortunately, we don’t recognize our outstanding women and, as long as we remain uninformed moving forward will be much slower and more difficult. It is time to learn and share the prominent Armenian women’s in history.

In the original Armenian:

Պատմությունը վկայում է, որ հասարակական ակտիվ գործունեություն ծավալելը երբեք էլ օտար չի եղել հայ կանանց համար: Տարբեր դարաշրջաններում կանանց մասնակցությունը հասարակական կյանքին տարբեր ձևերով է արտահայտվել: Հայ կանայք, միանշանակ, իրենց հետքն են թողել հայոց պատմության ընթացքի վրա, և, չնայած այն պնդմանը, որ հայ ազգը կնամեծար է, այսօր մենք չգիտենք մեր իսկ պատմության երևելի կանանց:

Մի՞թե այդ կանայք արժանի չեն հիշատակվելու, մի՞թե այդ կանայք բավականաչափ ազդեցիկ չեն եղել, ինչու՞ մենք չենք ճանաչում նրանց:

Դարեր շարունակ մեր մտավորականներից շատերն են անդրադարձել կանանց հարցին, հետևել կանանց քաղաքական և հասարակական գործունեությանը: Այսօր պատկերն այլ է. մեր մտավորականների շրջանում քչերն են անդրադառնում կանանց գործունեությանը, բայց, այնուամենայնիվ, կան դեռ այնպիսիք, ովքեր փորձում են վերակենդանացնել պատմության էջերում վաղուց մոռացված մեր կին մտավորականներին, քաղաքական և հասարակական գործիչներին, արվեստագետներին և այլ ազդեցիկ դեմքերին:

Անահիտ Հարությունյանը մեծ ներդրում ունի մեր նախամայրերի հետ մեզ ներկայացնելու գործում: Նա «Երևելի տիկնանց դարը» գրքի հեղինակն է, որտեղ լուսաբանում է 19-րդ դարի և 20-րդ դարասկզբի երևելի հայ կանանց հասարակական գործունեությունը:

Պատմական փաստերի հիման վրա պարզ է դառնում, որ հայ հասարկությունում կանայք և տղամարդիկ եղել են հավասար: Մեր պատմությունում կինը ստորադաս դիրք երբևէ չի ունեցել, և այն կարծրատիպացած պնդումը, թե տղամարդը պետք է իշխի կնոջը, և թե այս մոդելը դարերի պատմություն ունի, միանգամայն անհիմն է:

Այս գիրքը հին հայկական ավանդական ընտանիքի հստակ պատկեր է ստեղծում: Գրքում հստակ նկարագրված է կնոջ և տղամարդու դերաբաշխումը ոչ միայն ընտանիքում, այլ նաև քաղաքական և հասարակական ոլորտներում: Հարկ է նշել այն փաստը, որ Եվրոպայում կանայք մինչև 20-րդ դար պայքարել են ընտրական իրավունքի համար, մինչդեռ Հայաստանում առաջին հանրապետության ստեղծման ժամանակ (1918 թ.) նույնիսկ հարց չի ծագել` կանայք ունե՞ն ընտրելու իրավունք, թե՞ ոչ: Հայ կանայք և՛ ընտրել են, և՛ ընտրվել: Հայաստանի առաջին հանրապետության խորհրդարանում 3 կին պատգամավոր կար` Կատարինե Զալյան-Մանուկյան, Վարվառա Սահակյան, Պերճուհի Պարտիզպանյան-Բարսեղյան: Ամբողջ 19-րդ դարի վերջում և 20-րդ դարի սկզբում հայկական մամուլում գերակա էր կանանց հարցը:

Հասարակական ոլորտում կանանց ներգրավվածությունը նույնպես մեծ էր: Ազգային-ազատագրական պայքարի ծրագիրը մշակելուն պես` առաջ եկավ լուսավորության խնդիրը, առանց որի հնարավոր չէր լինի համախմբել ազգը: Որոշվեց, որ կրթության հարցը լավագույնս կարող են լուծել կանայք, ուստի առաջին հերթին որոշում կայացվեց կրթել կանանց: Արևմտյան և Արևելյան Հայաստանի ամբողջ տարածքում սկսեցին բացվել օրիորդաց դպրոցներ: Դա մի հզոր շարժում էր, որն արդարացրեց իրեն: Աղջիկները դպրոցն ավարտելուն պես կազմակերպություններ էին հիմնում, որոնց 90 տոկոսը զբաղվում էր կրթական հարցերով: Այդ կանայք կրթության պատմության մեջ խոր հետք են թողել:

«Երևելի տիկնանց դարը» գիրքը շատ կարծրատիպեր է կոտրում հայ կանանց և կին -տղամարդ հարաբերությունների մասին, որոնք մեր հասարակությունում գոյություն ունեն դարեր շարունակ: Այն թերթում է մեր պատմության փոշոտված էջերը. այս պատմությունը չենք կարող կարդալ ոչ մի դասագրքում, և ոչ ոք մեզ չի պատմի դրա մասին: Ցավոք, մենք չենք ճանաչում մեր կարկառուն կանանց և, քանի դեռ տեղեկացված չենք, առաջ շարժվելը շատ ավելի դանդաղ և դժվար կլինի: Ժամանակն է իմանալ և տարածել երևելի հայ կանանց պատմությունը:

wet charcoal

04 Friday Sep 2015

Posted by babylon crashing in Feminism, Poetry, sonnet

≈ Comments Off on wet charcoal

Tags

crone, don't get cocky, maiden, mother, poem, Poetry, slashed bole, sonnet, wet charcoal

Don’t get cocky — Everything can get blown
apart. There’s no help the way I’m wired.

Vast sky: I am small. Mother, Maiden, Crone:
be with me as I drift — I’m still tired.

My name sounds rough in your tongue. This slashed bole
of a stump means that there’s no way I can

cling tight, I’ll just leave smears like wet charcoal.
I’ve read the Bible, Torah and Koran:

all man-made laws that restrict my sisters
restrict me — When they came for the sissies

and the butches I was high strung enough
to stand my ground, though there are some horrors

you can’t beat — how do I love these slashes
or find a name that doesn’t sound rough —

Quote

quote unquote

17 Friday Apr 2015

Posted by babylon crashing in Armenia, Feminism, quote unquote

≈ Comments Off on quote unquote

Tags

Armenian feminists, Clementine von Radics, Gyumri, Kim Kardashian, poem, Poetry, reblog, slut shaming must fall, where I call home

Salome dances her dance of the seven veils,
The men all eye her like wolves on the hunt, this beautiful girl
finally undressing for them. Finally they can see her
exactly as they want to.
The first veil drops.

In 2007, Kim Kardashian’s ex-boyfriend
released their sex tape against her will.
Kim Kardashian, rather than hide in shame
Used the publicity to promote her own career.
Salome moves like a dream half-remembered.
Salome dances like a siren song. All the men ache
to see the hot sugar of her hip bones.
The second veil drops.
In 2014, Kim Kardashian walks down the aisle
As the whole world watches. If only all of us
were so successful in our revenge.
If only all of us stood in our Louboutin heels
on the backs of the men who betray us,
surveying the world we created for ourselves.

The third veil drops.

Kim Kardashian knows exactly what you think of her.
She presses the cloth tighter against her skin
Her smile is a promise she never intends to keep

We can almost see all of her.
Salome shows us her body
but never her eyes.
The fourth veil is dropping.
The four things most recently tweeted at Kim Kardashian were
@KimKardashian Suck My Dick
@Kim Kardashian Can I Meet Kanye?
@KimKardashian Please Fuck Me
@KimKardashian I Love You. I Love You.

Women are told to keep their legs shut.
Women are told to keep their mouths shut.
Some women are kept silent for so long,
They become experts in the silent theft of power.
The fifth veil has dropped.
Kim Kardashian made $12 million dollars this year
Yesterday, uncountable men in their miserable jobs,
told their miserable friends that Kim was a “dumb whore”
Kim Kardashian will never learn their names.

Clementine von Radics (via clementinevonradics)

seen on rebloggy.com/kim kardashian

(via oduor-oduku)

O hell yes! There is very little
positive representation of Armenian women on the web and in the
media. If you scratch the surface, up and beyond historic poets and
artists, you will read about the ones we’ve lost, like Zaruhi Petrosyan, silenced
through domestic violence; and yet Armenian feminism and LGBT rights are alive and well in Yerevan and Gyumri. 

Always these are who I call
heroes.

check your tongue

31 Tuesday Mar 2015

Posted by babylon crashing in Feminism, Poetry, sonnet

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Tags

Adrienne Rich, Anne Sexton, check your tongue, dire verse universe, feminism, poem, Poetry, sonnet, Sylvia Plath

Of my three aunts, Sylvia, Adrienne
and Anne, two killed themselves and one refused

to look at me. I’ve loved them. I’ve loved gin,
static-buzz, bone-fever — all that confused

their words with being something more. “Nomen
est omen:”
call me, “Left Behind.” Call her:

“Matertera.” Without these three women
what am I? Check your tongue about that slur

that I’ve broken my pact made between gods
and their dire verse; as if either pleased.

Tonight I want an aunt’s voice that marauds
through my skull, that translates all that buzzed

into something. Confessions. I love them.
I love their words. Their so-called hate and sin.

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