Self-hate is our collective feminine shadow, our root rot, learned via subliminal patriarchal rote and reinforced by virtually every facet of everyday life.
Women are born dead and have to work backwards to feel alive.
An underworld journey can be reversive, cyclical, recursive, and discursive. But a resurrected Persephone cannot be abducted by Hades, even if she finds herself in the underworld again and again.
Learning how to self-love like a goddess is the first step in flowering The Dick Inside.
Abduction of Persephone by Scarsellino
The Underworld Revisited
When we imagine Persephone happy, perhaps we imagine her not only as psychopomp who escorts shades and souls through the underworld but also as “escort” fucking all the monsters in Hades, especially the satyrs, centaurs, and minotaurs, fucking all the ghosts, including the hungry ghosts whose big bloated bellies can never be filled.
The resurrected Persephone is (w)hole, full, fulfilled, and fulfillable.
When we imagine Persephone happy, perhaps we imagine her as a sacred whore, with radical compassion and mad love, even if the cause is absolute futility. In this Hades shakti temple that is life as we know it, perhaps we imagine Persephone as sexual surrogate to the loathsome monsters seething in those black abysses of the unconscious.
“To guide another person to orgasm, to hold and caress, to provide companionship and initiation to new forms of sex, to embody the Divine and embrace the seeker—these are healing and holy acts…For us to see ourselves as sacred whores…we show the face of the goddess in a culture that has tried for millennia to break and denigrate her, just as some today claim we are broken and denigrated. They are not correct, and the goddess will not be broken…Were the attack on us over, we could begin to heal the whole world” (Inga Muscio, Cunt).
Sophia Envy
Men have pussy envy. —Valerie Solanas
The hole was once a wholesome place.
The monstrous masculine demonized and profaned it, turned it into a hopeless place.
There is a Dick Inside where there was once a hole.
But the hole is whole.
The holy grail is sacred hole.
The silly masculine quest for the holy grail is a sacred hole journey.
The heroine’s night-sea journey (underworld journey) is a quest for the hole-y grail, the rise of the divine/monstrous feminine.
Make profaned hole sacred again.
Only then can it do the work of healing.
Philosophy Redefined
Look at these, my ruby-red ruby lips. —PJ Harvey, “Sheela Na Gig”
Philos + sophia = philosophy.
Philos = love.
The sophia = the guiding feminine spirit.
Philosophy = love of the guiding feminine spirit.
What is the sophia? The hole-y spirit.
“To heal is to make whole, as in wholesome” (Love’s Body).
“Wholesome” includes the hole, the profane which was once sacred.
Wholeness, wholesomeness, is not possible without the hole, the hole that leads to the center of the soul.
Wholeness, wholesomeness, is not possible without The Dick Inside.
How can we walk in Truth Beauty, live in harmony, with the sacred profane, The Dick Inside the hole?
Via philosophy reclaimed: self love of the (w)hole self.
Self-Love Experiment
Love Letter to The Dick Inside
The monstrous masculine has poked holes in our self-love. To show radical compassion to internalized darkness can help us rise in our own power.
Call to mind the shadow. This may be The Dick Inside or another deeply internalized/repressed part of your psyche. Whatever it is will feel uncomfortable when brought to mind.
Write a love letter it. Imagine pure yes-saying spirit shining down into those black abysses, loving the shadow with deep erotic love, as though you are your own sacred whore.
The Blade vs. The Wand
Do you want to hand The Dick Inside a sword or a flowering wand?
Blade Energy
“The sword slices, divides, and subdues. Its tip drags imaginary borders across ecosystems. The sword does not embrace. It does not connect. It does not ask questions. It is not an instrument of intimacy. It either attacks or defends…The sword cuts the mind off from the body” (Sophie Strand, The Flowering Wand: Rewilding the Sacred Masculine).
The blade cannot flower.
Wand Energy
“The wand creates connections…The wand encircles us with protection during biological rites of passage…It draws us to water. It enchants us into closer kinship with animals and plants and landscapes by literally transforming us into them. It mends broken bodies, knits wounds, and softens minds” (Sophie Strand, The Flowering Wand: Rewilding the Sacred Masculine).
The wand can be a garden.
Flowering The Dick Inside
We murder to dissect. —Wordsworth
You start full/whole, then you are split/cleaved.
Blade ideology profaned the sacred feminine, created the madonna-whore complex, split off a woman’s sexuality from the (w)hole.
Monstrous masculine imposition—the blade, not the wand—made a tomb of the womb, a hell of the hole.
Opposites must be unified to create the wholesome hole.
The wand creates connections, unites what has been separated, for an erotic experience of reality. This is the function of the magic wand. It is the definition of magic.
The externalized Dick Inside can be ouroborated in an act of radical self-love and reclamation of power.
Re-wilding the Dick Inside, making it something sacred, something worthy of sacred hole.
Transmuting The Dick Inside from blade (monstrous masculine) to flowering wand (divine masculine, monstrous feminine rising).
Tenderize the meat. Choose how you flower.
H.D., “The Flowering of the Rod”
Flowering The Dick Inside
to create your own gaze
and step into a feminine of your own design
like the dialectical celestial cum cow
who is a cosmic hermaphrodite.
This is how it cums together!
So, the cum cow starts with lower fire (basic instinct, nurture-based sexual constructs) and ends with fire in the sky (expansive, all-inclusive erotic identification and understanding).
It starts with what The Dick Inside is attracted to, such as the great big cum cow tits of hardcore hetero horror-porn circa 2004, and ends with its own gaze, latching onto the Great Mother’s teats to become the celestial cum cow that nurses itself in auto-erotic queerness, to self-deify, to embrace divine self-love.
The cum cow is a monster, but the cum cow is also a creature of love and empathy. The increasingly manifold Cum Punk multiverse is the movement in which the cum cow, the numinous third, shall emerge from darkness to light.
Bitch, I’m a cum cow.
And as a fully embodied, dialectically integrated cum cow, I nourish the world with Cum Punk (Birth of the Cum Cow).
Our Prayer
Now, we rise with the celestial sow,
diamond cum geysers to heaven!
Let us practice the four C’s of the cum cow:
(radical) compassion, concern, consideration, care.
Let us elevate, LEVITATE like Yosemite Sam
using the fire of both pistols to rise to the sky!
Blessed be.
Casting Intentions
What do you want the divine masculine to look like, and how can it best serve you?
How do you envision yourself rising into the divine feminine?
Who is goddess-you? What does your monstrous feminine look like?
Rewilding Eden
In the Patriarchal Eden, Lilith is reduced to a worm. A mirror opens out from the head of her rudimentary cock into which Eve gazes and is reduced to a narcissistic sexual predator simply by existing at all. The feminine is spayed and neutered, mirroring the male shadow.
The monstrous masculine is the shadow of the masculine projected onto the feminine. The Dick Inside is monstrous masculine deviancy and impotence projected onto and internalized by the feminine.
The Dick Inside, born of trauma induced by literally and figuratively getting fucked, becomes the shadow, the one who literally and figuratively fucks: “I am the one who fucks.”
The Dick Inside turns me against myself, undermines my power, insults my intelligence, goes against my instincts, doesn’t trust my intuition, weaponizes my empathy and uses it against me.
Self-love begins with violation. Something must break.
When my darkness becomes so divorced from me and unfamiliar that it seems a separate entity, I fuck myself. I fuck myself like the Dick Inside that fucks us and keeps fucking us because it conditions us to fuck ourselves. I violate myself.
I have ouroboros envy. Who wouldn’t?
That dick was once mine.
Like the Shekina in Adam, but the other way around.
“The other way around” has been the case for millennia:
The Dick Inside Eve (and all femme).
Narcissus, I pluck myself to descend. I pluck you like the first of the spring flowers in hell. I pluck myself to ascend: a declination that is an inclination.
I am Kore and Hades as one; I am the Orphic egg laid and hatched to give rebirth, like Great Mother Persephone, the moon fullest when new, primal life force slathered in ectoplasm, making snow angels the afterbirth of my rebirth.
When I pluck you, I pluck myself. When I choose you, I choose myself. When I kiss you, I kiss myself. When I seduce you, I seduce myself. When I rape you, I rape myself. When I fuck you, I fuck myself.
Fucking another is fucking the self, the way love should always be.
The ouroboric self-fecundating principle—devour yourself to be reborn.
Flora’s Train, Narcissus, by Walter Crane
You can do the work of descent, go on an underworld journey, the heroine’s night-sea journey, a quest for the Sophia carved from Lucifer’s crown. At the center, you will find infinite, boundless nothing, and within it, you will find true love.
Self-love is the philosopher’s stone, the emotion of laughter that dissolves Ego Island into pure oceanic consciousness. It is the universe, the great ouroboric chain of flowers that readies the womb-tomb-cocoon for the immaculate concept.
Knowledge, or the Divine Feminine Genius, is broad spectrum intellect, the multi-faceted sparkle of (w)hole-istic genius contained in the immaculate concept: the Edenic apple. A lateral intelligence is Edenic Knowledge: sexual, emotional, creative, intellective, expressionistic, etheric, all-inclusive and thus immaculate.
Combined, these multitudinous facets of knowledge form a complete intellect, a wisdom with the fire, brilliance, and scintillation of a perfect diamond, the diamond-eyed, thousand-petaled soul.
The Divine Feminine Genius is the genital and the heart in the head, as well as the seats of power and expression—the sexual, emotional, intellectual, creative, expressive, and powerful knowledge of the alchemical apple.
Die Schlange by Max Klinger
“Adam and Eve were originally androgynous, like Shiva and his Shakti. She dwelt in him, and he in her; they were two souls united in one body, which God later tore apart, depriving them of their bliss of union. Cabalists took up the idea and said the paradise of Eden can be regained only when the two sexes are once more united; even God must be united with his female counterpart, the heavenly Eve called Shekina” (Barbara Walker, The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets).
If Eve is the divine feminine within the man,
if Eve is the pussy in Adam,
then Adam is a cosmic hermaphrodite.
If Adam is a cosmic hermaphrodite,
then Adam is Eve,
the alchemical androgyne.
Woman Girt with the Flowering Wand
She will respond, this new woman, to the high clamor of those star trumpets; she will come as a perilous flame and a devious song, a voice in the judgment halls, a banner before armies. She will come girt with [the flowering wand], and before her kings and priests will tremble and cities and empires will fall, and she will be called BABALON, the scarlet woman. —Jack Parsons, “Freedom Is a Two-Edged Sword”
Lilith and Eve by Yuri Klapouh
In my re-wilded Eden, there is no Adam.
Maybe he’s there at first, and I switch heads with him and fuck him just to have the experience of fucking myself—a homo-, hetero-, and auto-erotic experience of reality.
The serpent is there, and she is Great Mommy Lilith, the kundalini creatrix—my externalized Dick Inside flowered.
I take the Edenic apple from her, and she shows me how to eat it without even taking a bite. She shows me how to make it levitate from my hands.
We switch heads.
We trade mirrors.
We touch worms.
I ouroborate her. We ouroborate each other.
We fuck each other so that fucking another is fucking the self, in the true love sense.
We become one Lilith. We touch Liliths.
We become the mistress of God and swallow him whole with our sheela na gigs.
We make God the Father our bitch.
We plant trees of the immaculate concept everywhere we go, making the whole world our Eden, tempting all women to eat of the fruit and rise into (w)hole-istic knowledge.
Girt with the flowering wand, we make Edenic underworld.
In my re-wilded Hades, there is no Hades.
He was The Dick Inside me all along.
Eve in the Garden of Eden by Henri Rousseau