Catching up after being on retreat for several days. I did not read the latest femisphere thrashes, which I am now reading about second and third hand on my beloved friends' blogs. I will not read the OP, because I have taken the pledge, and also it honestly sounds really boring. Per the definition of femininity and suchlike, I will simply say this:
Spend the weekend sharing space with, among others, a gaggle of Radical Faeries. About forty men (and a few biogirls, and one probably-TG/genderqueer person who quite literally flits like hir namesake bird), most of 'em with long beards and quite hirsute, singing and drumming and ballet dancing and doing Martha Graham impersonations and wearing lipstick and codpieces and platform heels and glitter and ginormous hats shaped like limes. It gives one a certain sense of...perspective. Also, they're fucking awesome.
as were the women I was primarily on retreat with. and by the way, ritualized group gropes and getting the shit beaten out of you can in fact be astonishingly therapeutic and deeply communal. spiritual, even. just saying.
" There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy..."