Feminist Ninja Badass or (I’m a Feminist and I Love Men)


There’s no such thing as rising up by pulling others down.

We all have our personal strengths and weaknesses, but reflecting on one thing (such as gender) by categorically demoting the other?  That sucks.  And it doesn’t fix anything attempting to force a counter-balance, especially uneducated.  In order for elements of nature to work as they would, nature has to be allowed to work with humanity in the first place.  Please don’t suck, people.

The markdown in Dojo is absurd.  Females usually have less bulk, physically, but there’s always more to martial arts than physical strength.  The art is mostly mental.  And what does it say if you’re less able to defend yourself, leaving, since these things are learned?

Well, now I know POMAD could kick my ass.  And that makes me smile. :)  What doesn’t make me smile is witnessing the title The Myth of Male Power: Why Men Are the Disposable Sex (1993), when I looked up ‘misandry.’

(Note: comments here are closed; please visit her post if you want to comment.)

Originally posted on POMAD:

I practiced Kung-Fu from ages fourteen to twenty-something. At my first Dojo, we practiced a mix of Kung-Fu and Muai-Thai, which is as badass as a monkey riding a unicorn and playing the violin at the sound of “Total Eclipse of The Heart”.

Now that’s badass.

Anyway, we used to have weekly fights in that Dojo. You heard me. I would go to the center of the room along with a guy quite bulkier than I was, and we would fight. No protection, no shoes. We just put to practice everything we learned.

I tended to be much faster than the guys, but I did get the eventual punch every now and then, or the usual sweep kick. And you know what, this is a pretty good example of what feminism is all about.

You see, being there was my choice. I was being treated equally to the other guys…

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The After-Ides of March

looking-upThings are looking onwards and upwards this season in Maine, with oft-gray skies; until you look down, and find the snow is still there.tree-snow-20150326

One month after I (pathetically) tried to free a little tree from the snow, the powdered frozen water had melted around these parts enough that the snowbanks are mostly gone, and the dirt once again constituted the path. …The tree is still in the snow, though.  And so are we, apparently, that it precipitated this morning.

‘An inch,’ they said.  It’s supposed to be Spring now, but Maine gets snow in April.  I think I remember it snowing in May one time.  “April showers bring…May snow,” I said.  I think.  And while my head’s full of crap (it certainly feels like it, not sleeping when I should), Thursday was full of mist.


Sometimes the Northeast gets so much snow that roofs are damaged by the weight of it.  And if not that, then an avalanche of snow may come down and knock the railing off the porch.

missing-porch-railingThat happened last Winter.  Or the Winter before that, I don’t remember; no real schedule moves around here anymore.  The Newman’s Own, however, sure moves.


Fig Newmans, in particular, as I ate too many.  Like chips, video-gaming.  (I explored the crap out of Beach Day.)  I didn’t exactly like the stomach cramps that followed.  But who can deny that face?

People with Coeliac disease, that’s who.


They replaced the wheat with barley, but it still contains prolamin (gluten)… Actually, I’m not sure people with Coeliac disease need to avoid this, given the disease is caused by a reaction to gliadin, specifically (just one of the prolamins).

Well, unfortunately, that sums up the end of March over here.  Or just Thursday and Friday.  I’ll let you know if it snows in April.  Have a good rest of the weekend! :)

Right v. Privilege …Again?

This post inspired by Religious Freedom (in other words, Freedom to Discriminate).  (And funny/sad, the last time I tried to write a response/inspired post to one of Becky’s, I trashed it…)  As politics manages to creep into everything, I don’t want to spend too much time on this, so this is a bit sloppy and looks more like a comment than a post.  (Sorry.)
Continue reading Right v. Privilege …Again?

Friday Fictioneers: Hobbies and Interests

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s prompt photo is by David Stewart of The Green-Walled Tower.

Always short on ideas, I began this silly story using a second prompt—the first line.  Initially, because I was watching listening to Mad Men, specifically “Time Zones”, I wrote Don Draper into the story.  But since I don’t want to get sued, I cut him out.  Enjoy.

Genre: Humor
100 words

[prompt image]
Copyright — David Stewart

That’s a strange way to say hello.

Before we spoke, Ralph kissed me on the cheeks.  I suppressed my urge to punch him in the face.  I knew it was customary for him to kiss friends and relatives; he was European; his name was pronounced “Rafe.”  And he came all this way.  We’d met online, and now in person to play in a brass band.

Halfway into the second song, smoke billowed into the gazebo.  No one saw any flames, but we promptly vacated.  Except Ralph.  Turns out, I had overlooked Ralph’s online profile.  His “hobbies and interests” included: arson.

Participation is welcome to all.  The goal is to write a story, beginning-middle-end, in 100 words or less.  You are also encouraged to “think outside of the box.”

Click here to view the inLinkz for what others have written for the prompt, or add one.

Visit Addicted to Purple for Rochelle’s own stories and her Friday Fictioneers page for more details.  You can follow her blog for the prompt each Wednesday.

To Transform or not to Transform


You Always Have a Choice.

Originally posted on The Zeit:

Orange Caterpillar Are you afraid of transforming into a better you ? Image by Twobee

The Monarch caterpillar has no choice.  From the time it emerges out into the world to become an eating machine, it has but one destiny: it will transform into a Monarch Butterfly.  It is a necessary part of its life cycle. It begins life in one form and will end it in an entirely different form. We consider this transformation to be an amazing feat of nature, and yet in viewing it with such awe, we forget that we ourselves often transform in even more dramatic and powerful ways.

There is a crucial difference though: We have a choice: To transform or not to transform?

I work with people who want something better for themselves, for their lives. They are not happy with where they are, and they desire to move into a place that they believe…

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Cultivating Honor


Brilliant post, IB.

(Note: comments are closed here; please visit her post.)

Originally posted on See, there's this thing called biology...:

Honor is to “regard with great respect.” Who? Yourself!

It’s a concept that has plagued men for centuries. I say “men” because honor is simply something different in women, something more along the lines of empathy or charity.

I say it has plagued men for centuries because it has, because honor has never been an easy thing to cultivate. The world is not very good at rewarding honor. In the modern world, we watch people become successful by lying, cheating, acting like thugs, and often getting themselves elected to public office.

Where is the pay off in honor? Good guys always finish last! In the mediated reality we call culture, we see a lot of thuggery and women pursuing it, as if it is some desirable quality in men. The most tweeted photo by women recently was of a good-looking felon with turquoise eyes. Kanye West comes to mind, people…

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Friday Fictioneers: Whispers in the Woods

Welcome to Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.  This week’s photo is by Rachel Bjerke of Mostly Words.

Now, I missed the last one.  I wrote maybe a third of something, but it was too sad—so sad I couldn’t continue.  This one’s more of a bed time story.  Or, a nightmare story.  Whichever, take your pick.

100 words

Photo Copyright © Rachel Bjerke

I’ll never forget that night.  I was sent alone again, for grandma’s house, like Little Red Riding Hood.  Time spent in these parts hadn’t stopped me from looking over my shoulders.  I swear, the trees talk to each other.

I walked, steadfast but quiet.  I reached the house, relieved.  But there I heard the strangest sound, so I bolted inside.  Oddly, my parents were there, and my entrance startled them.  Dad was disappointed, enough that he challenged my “fear of monsters.”  He opened the door.  It was a man.

I was the only one to escape grandma’s house alive.

Participation is welcome to all.  The goal is to write a story, beginning-middle-end, in 100 words or less.  You are also encouraged to “think outside of the box.”

Click here to view the inLinkz for what others have written for the prompt, or add one.

Visit Addicted to Purple for Rochelle’s own stories and her Friday Fictioneers page for more details.  You can follow her blog for the prompt each Wednesday.

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Something tells me you two should write more together.  Powerful results here.

Originally posted on hastywords:

Today I am very happy to host my closest friend Lizzi and her blog post on bullying.


I want to start your day with a poem we wrote several weeks back.  I saved it because I love the message and feel it represents a wonderfully compassionate attitude.  We all have moments when we need someone to LOVE US ANYWAY!


Written by Lizzi (considerer) and Hastywords

Bring me the storm clouds of your sky-strewn mind
Bring me the flotsam and jetsam the tsunami left behind
Bring me the dark corners you want nobody else to find
And let me love you

Bring me the tears that constantly flood you with fear
Bring me the consternation that makes logic less clear
Bring me the worries derailing you and allow me to steer
And let me love you

Bring me the screeching of voices which never cease
Bring me…

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Windows 10, already…

Image source: yahoo.com/tech

Yeah, what happened to version 9?  (And of course we all know what happened to 7.)

Doobster, over at Mindful Digressions, came across what we all face, one time or another, going to the electronics store: “we no longer sell that.”  Or at least, they no longer sell it in-store.  He decided to go for the online-only laptop with 7 Pro, end of story.

Well.  Of course, I knew Windows 7 was no longer sold at places like…Best Buy?  I thought Best Buy was gone too.  They closed so many stores, I figured they’ve closed them all by now. …Oh, no, that was Circuit CitySigh.  Just a memory now…
Continue reading Windows 10, already…