Nihilistic Feminism

I’ve been reading the essays of Archonis both on his online journal and here at Synthesis for some time now and I find more and more as I read that I am continually in agreement with him. Yet that this is so, something continues to bother me for I am a woman and continually I feel that I must, through nothing else but my sex, be a contaminant of man.

I’ve felt lost, wanting nothing more than to cast my lot with this line of Druidic thought and yet feeling excluded at the same time. For there is nowhere else I want to be. I despise the Wiccans with their worship of an idea that all life could spawn from a woman’s womb. Life begins in the fusion of atoms, the energy which originates from the birth of a star, that is the stuff of the universe, sexless and androgynous at the same time, violent, relentless and more like a man of war than some fleshy incubator. Then I have to ask: what manner of woman am I that I would renounce the womb to accept the hand of Death without remorse or hesitation? I, a woman, am remembering a time of long ago when a woman could be a warrior too. Where she concerned herself more with developing herself to be of use to a man instead of dreamily thinking up ways to seduce him… but that I say this, is not this which I write some equal attempt at seduction? Perhaps it is all I have left in my heart now.

Once I cared for so many things, I was a campaigner for saving the environment from the eco-destruction of this over-populated consumer-orientated world. Yet the more I saw, the more I realised that no true eco-system remains. It’s all about the pretty birds and the pretty trees and furry, cuddly things, never about saluting the violence that maintains balance and culls from the whole that which would defy evolution. I once cared for the concerns of the Proletariat but now find that it is worse than overseeing a nursery of unruly children all preoccupied with their immediate needs, all lost in their little egocentric worlds unaware that they all have been cast to the same fate. I see my state of confusion.

I proclaimed myself a feminist, all in a war to be seen for my intellect, to be seen as something more than a body for sex and procreation and a maid to cook, clean and wash. This however also put me at war with man when that was never really what I wanted, for all I ever really wanted was inclusion, not dominance, and most of all not to demasculate the warrior in man. All this political correctness turns an R-rated world into something homogenised and pasteurised so that it can be classified safe for infants. Tread softly through the nursery so that we don’t accidently step on anybody’s toes.

Alone therefore, I study what I can, I swallow both my pride and ego and see that deep down all I’m really wanting is my father now. I used to take that as insult. Yet my eyes opened now, I see something greater than just the familial concept. Seeing Father as Führer and the power of one that is a people having one goal, one leader and one drive that motivates them all.

June 2003