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Subscribe to this list via RSS Blog posts tagged in warrior

Posted by on in Culture Blogs

 

 

I've heard that warriors, charging into battle, get erections.

I wonder if it's true.

Being myself a bard rather than a warrior, I have no personal experience of the matter. Knowing my own unpredictable man's body, though, with a mind (not to mention a sense of humor) of its own, I could well believe it.

Ah, the mysteries of male physiology.

Now, erections are about lots of things—ask any guy waking up in the morning or (again, reportedly) hanged man*—and sex is only one.

But if this nugget of received wisdom is actually trustworthy, I could well understand why the Redcrest legions so feared the skyclad charges of Celtdom.

After all, it's kind of hard not to take an erection personally.

Not to mention the fact that a bobbing boner pointing in your general direction tends to be rather, er, distracting. Charging into battle against a naked, shrieking, woad-stained enemy with a sharp sword in his hand is decidedly not a good time to go losing your focus.

I don't personally know many warriors—in fact, I can't think of any—who have experienced the kind of face-to-face combat that the ancestors did, so there's no one of my acquaintance that I can ask directly. If there's a way to web-search this topic without first getting directed to every porn site on the planet—and believe me, I really don't want to go there—I have yet to find it.

(Porn sites carry lots of computer cooties, and besides, who's going to trust a porn site for information of any kind?)

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs

 

 

 

 

I've heard that warriors, charging into battle, get erections.

 

I wonder if it's true.

 

Being myself a bard rather than a warrior, I have no personal experience of the matter. Knowing my own unpredictable man's body, though, with a mind (not to mention a sense of humor) of its own, I could well believe it.

 

Ah, the mysteries of male physiology.

 

Now, erections are about lots of things—ask any guy waking up in the morning or (again, reportedly) hanged man*—and sex is only one.

 

But if this nugget of received wisdom is actually trustworthy, I could well understand why the Redcrest legions so feared the skyclad charges of Celtdom.

 

After all, it's kind of hard not to take an erection personally.

 

Not to mention the fact that a bobbing boner pointing in your general direction tends to be rather, er, distracting. Charging into battle against a naked, shrieking, woad-stained enemy with a sword in his hand is decidedly not a good time to go losing your focus.

 

I don't know many warriors—in fact, I can't think of any—who have experienced the kind of face-to-face combat experience that the ancestors did, so there's no one of my acquaintance that I can ask directly. If there's a way to web-search this topic without first getting directed to every porn site on the planet—and believe me, I really don't want to go there—I have yet to find it.

 

(Porn sites carry lots of computer cooties, and besides, who's going to trust a porn site for information of any kind?)

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs

 

Another gay bar, another mass shooting.

Sickening. Predictable.

This time, though, we fought back.

 

When the gunman opened fire at Club Q in Colorado Springs on Saturday night, two warriors—both military folk, I gather—took him down.

One, I hear, took his handgun off of him and clocked him with it. As of this writing, he's still in the hospital.

Good.

 

It's a hard world. Back in tribal days, absolutely everyone—men and women included—had at least some warrior training, growing up.

Really, they should be teaching (along with dance) self-defense in every phys ed class in every school in the country.

 

My first Hebrew teacher, Yehudit, was built like a bird—light, petite—but, like every Israeli, she'd been in the army, and been trained in krav mag'a, unarmed combat.

When the mugger pulled the gun on her and some friends in downtown Minneapolis one night, she single-handedly took him down, took the gun away from him, and said: Now: do you get out of here, or do I break your arm?

He ran, of course.

 

There are people out there that hate us and (thank you Donald Trump) believe that they have a right to do something about it and (thank you Republican Party) have legal access to assault weapons. We know this.

There will be other shootings in other gay bars. We know this.

Some things to remember if you're there when the next shooter opens fire:

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Posted by on in Culture Blogs

 How to Cut and Shred Cabbage (Quickly & Easily!) - Evolving Table

The Tale of Simmy Batbane

 

Ka-fwumpa! Ka-fwumpa!

I wake up just enough to wonder: What is that damn cat doing now?

Ka-fwumpa! Ka-fwumpa!

In compensation for their taillessness, most Manx cats have powerfully-muscled hindquarters. Simmy was a champion jumper.

Ka-fwumpa! Ka-fwumpa!

Finally, I sit up and turn on the light. Sure enough: a bat is circling the room (deosil, for what it's worth). Every time it goes past, Simmy jumps for it.

Oh, for gods' sakes, I think. I turn off the light and lay back down.

Ka-fwumpa! Ka-fwumpa!

I've just about managed to drop back off when suddenly I'm jolted upright by an unmistakable high-pitched shriek, on the bare threshold of human hearing.

Even out of mid-air, Simmycat always gets her bat.

Simmy Batbane lived to the ripe old age (for a cat) of 21, and her memory lives after her.

 

Slaw

 

Back in the days of the Hwicce, the original Tribe of Witches, warriors were esteemed as protectors of the People. One who had slain a particularly dangerous enemy frequently became known as the Bane—slayer—of that noteworthy foe. Heroes, too, would be named for the monsters that they had slain: Sigurd Fafnirsbane, Beowulf Grendelsbane.

In our day, warriors are little esteemed, and the word bane little-heard. When used, it tends to be in less lethal circumstances than previously.

 

 

Back in the bad old Jerry Falwell Christianist days (re. Christianism: cp. Islamism, the use of Islam as a political doctrine), I had a friend who earned the epithet Nazzbane from her favorite sport of shredding street-preachers into slaw.

 

But Now...

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The Warriors Shield

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Women Are Not Props for a Man's Enlightenment

I really enjoyed watching a movie called Journey to the West: Conquering the Demons ... until its end. It's a fun, comedic takeoff on finding enlightenment and has a good message ... until its end. There it was: the gender oppression. 

The plot: two demon hunters are in love with each other, but the male refuses the woman's love because he's trying to find enlightenment and believes that there is great love and small love. When she dies, his remorse brings him to enlightenment, and he realize that there is no "great and small love."

I am sick of plots in which a woman dies in order for a man to become enlightened. Or plots in which her death gives him the apparently requisite rage to finally conquer his enemy—who, of course, killed her.

Women's lives are not props for a man's story or his victory. A woman's death should mean more than its relationship to a man. Think for a moment about the results of a woman's death constantly portrayed in films as having no importance beyond its impact on a man.

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Critter
    Critter says #
    This is called fridging, and I have a few links for this that might interest you: http://lby3.com/wir/ http://tvtropes.org/pmwik
  • Francesca De Grandis
    Francesca De Grandis says #
    Great minds think alike. Thanks so much for your comments!
  • J'Karrah
    J'Karrah says #
    Thank you! I've been making this argument for years and unfortunately have sometimes felt like a lone voice in the wilderness. I
  • Francesca De Grandis
    Francesca De Grandis says #
    Thank YOU for your supportive words, and for being willing to speak out for years despite sometimes feeling like a lone wolf. And

Posted by on in SageWoman Blogs
What Constitutes Easy?

I have spent two and a half years preparing to move across country. It has not been easy.

When I told my spiritual advisor I wanted to move because I hate it here, she responded, "I don't want you leaving till you're happy there. I don't want you running from something; I want you running toward something."

The advice was sound, despite years of my working hard at being happy here. So I set about finding more happiness. Mind you, this place hadn’t made me completely forlorn. I'd had immense joy and self-fulfillment. And I'm aware that happiness is an inside job. There's just a lot here I loathe. I needed to make peace with it.

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Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Ted Czukor
    Ted Czukor says #
    "The sense of camaraderie that occurs when we tell our problems." Yes, indeed. At present that is all we can offer you, but we ha
  • Francesca De Grandis
    Francesca De Grandis says #
    Yes, purgatory. The hassle of repairs right now on top of everything else… And when I saw the leak, I realized I have had a lot of

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