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Blog Posts by Rev. Jinnfire Hinderson Uncategorized

Butterflies, Backlash and the Wild Movement of Erratic Women

Think of the Butterfly forming inside the chrysalis as a crystal being formed from beneath a volcano as it rises like a Phoenix to the Earth’s surface. ~J. Renee. Anthony

Crystals are created when molten rock — magma — from up to 30 km beneath a volcano starts to move upwards towards the Earth’s surface. The crystals are carried in the erupting magma, continuing to crystallize and change in composition on the way to the surface.

The concept of “The Fireground” (aka The Background) is to spread that Flame of Fury, that is- “Outrageous, Contagious Courage” by identifying Women’s Rage against patriarchy as Volcanoes (Pyrogenetic Passion- Taking Heart) who then “Give Heart” to Other women igniting/fueling them with “Courage to Leave” (Exodus Community). See “Wildfire: Igniting the She/Volution by Sonia Johnson in our O.W.L.S group files. This is the eruption of Volcanic Wisdom that gives birth to Butterflies. Metapatriarchal Metamorphosis. (See Daughter-Right).

This is why Mary Daly likens Elemental Radical Feminist Philosophia to Volcanic Wisdom and Tongues of Fire. She says that our Labryses are also Butterflies!!!

I’m finally getting a better idea of where I’m going with this website and it’s Sister Site: Daughter-Right. I appreciate your patience with me and all of your support! I look forward to spending the rest of my life continuing on with this Good Work with an undying Fey Faith. Thanks for listening!

Butterflies, Backlash, and Erratic Movement by Mary Daly

Meandering into Metamorphospheres, Muses notice that our Labryses are also Butterflies. From this perspective, too, they are symbols of the Great Goddess. As a matter of casual interest, we might light upon a description of how butterflies appear to outside observers. H.M. Tomlinson describes an encounter of the all-male crew of a British ship with a tropical butterfly:

A superb butterfly, too bright and quick to be anything but an escape from Paradise, will stay its dancing flight, as though with intelligent surprise at our presence, hover as if puzzled, and swoop to insprect us, alighting on some such incongruous piece of our furniture as a coil of rope, or the cook’s refuse pail, pulsing it’s wings there, plainly nothing to do with us, the prismatic image of joy. Out always rush some of our men at it, as though the sight of it maddened them, as would a revelation of accessible riches. It moves only at the moment, abruptly and insolently. They are left to gape at its mocking retreat. It goes in erratic flashes to the wall of trees and then soars over the parapet, hope at large.

The sight of the butterfly is maddening to the men. Even more maddening is her mocking retreat. The riches accessible to her are inaccessible to them. Characteristically, she moves in erratic flashes. Erratic means “having no fixed course: Wandering.” It means “deviating from what is ordinary or standard (as in nature, behavior, or opinion): Odd, Eccentric.” the erraticism of the butterfly- her Wanderlust, Untidiness, Eccentricity- is essential to her be-ing “hope at large”.

The erratic being of butterflies is described by Elizabeth Goudge, who writes that htey are “yet not quite birds, as they were not quite flowers, mysterious and fascinating as are all indeterminate creatures.” Although tidy collectors are always trying to classify them, there is something about them that mocks classification. This, of course, is one reeason why the collectors are obsessed with classifying them, pinning their corpses onto stiff boards in glass cases.

Ineed, butterflies represent that which is baffling to the necrophilic fixers, whose behavior in relation to these creatures is illuminating. Gertrude Stein relates a fascinating “little description” of this:

One of such of these kind of them had a little boy and this one, the little son wanted to make a collection of butterflies and beetles and it was all exciting to him and it was all arranged then and then the father said to the son you are certain this is not a cruel thing that you are wanting to be doing, killing things to make collections of them, and the son was very disturbed then and they talked about it together the two of them and more and more they talked about it then and then at last the boy was convinced it was a cruel thing and he said he would not do it and his father said the little boy was a noble boy to give up pleasure when it was a cruel one. The boy went to bed then and then the father when he got up in the early morning saw a wonderfully beautiful moth in the room and he caught him and he killed him and he pinned him and he woke up his son then and showed it to him and he said to him “see what a good father I am to have caught and killed this one,” the boy was all mixed up inside him and then he said he would go on with his collecting and that was all there was then of discussing and this is a little description of something that happened once and it is very interesting.

Since butterflies represent biophilia at large- that which is beautiful, joyous, hopeful, and erratic- they seem to elicit the father’s inherent tendency to expose themselves, as Gertrude Stein has illustrated in her little description of snoolish self-contradiction.

The autonomous, Wild movement of Erratic women also elicits the deceptive/destructive reflexes of the fraternal flashers, who perpetually preach against “cruelty” even as they perpetrate biocidal acts. Backlash, then, is to be expected. It is boringly predictable.

The responses of Erratically Flying women to the butchers’/botchers’ backlash, however, are Unpredictable to them. There is, for example, the fact that we do not re-spond/re-act. We do not backlash back at them. Instead, we spontaneously act. Such acting is unintelligible to incomplete snot boys, hacks, and snools. Feeling like fools, the flashers/lashers strut and swagger, draw their daggers. Stabbing/jabbing, jerking, jabbering, the butterfly-fixers prick each other.

Amid this butchery/botchery Butterflies alone are undisturbed. Poised, we pulse our wings, waving good-by. We are ready to fly. The Time to enter Metamorphospheres is now.

(pg. 333-335 Pure Lust by Mary Daly)

Note: I feel like this is definitely a Syn-Crone-icity because I recently received Mary Daly’s book “Pure Lust” and it was signed by her! Of course, I was able to verify this as seen in the photos below. What are the chances that I would buy a copy of her book with her signature in it? Also, there are butterflies on the back cover of the book and anyone who knows me knows that I have raised Monarchs for several years now and am a registered and certified Monarch Waystation and Pollinator Habitat!