Panty shields up, Captain! We’re rebooting the Ovarian Operating System . . .

I know, the title of this blog alone makes you want to click fast and away. But I have to tell you a tale of consumer eco-angst removed from the simple and often expensive decision to buy local, organic products and food. But first, a little herstory . . .

There’s already been enough shame, secrecy, and taboo surrounding “that time of the month” and all the other fine euphemisms invented to be humourous or circumspect about the mystery of menstruation. There are countries where tampons weren’t and still aren’t sold because you’d have to “touch down there.” There are women who follow this practice willingly, even in forward thinking countries. They build huts and red tents and spas for this exact purpose. To wear pampers or to be pampered. Elsewhere.

But it’s moved beyond that to a place where we’re supposed to celebrate and “have a happy period,” a campaign from a company that stupidly chose their brand name to be “Always.” As in, “I’ll ALWAYS bleed, and I’ll ALWAYS wear these things.” At least Kotex, Tampex, and Playtex (all with –ex as a suffix to mean “out, from or away”) sound almost medical or medicinal. And it’s not ALL feminine hygiene, even wounded soldiers are prone to use a tampon (French for “plug” or “stopper”) to halt bullet wounds from weeping. “Always” doesn’t seem to imply medical or even chronic, instead, it implies a life sentence. Doesn’t your uterus protest? Well it should. War is hell and there’s a war in your drawers and the sick folks at Always were also responsible for aerodynamic pantyliners and pads. That’s right – they got your code red covered in homeland security and you can feel secure each month knowing there’s a little, white F-16 in your pants.

It’s not just a troubling war at home either . . . it’s covers many land masses and miles of ocean.

Spastic Plastic

Your average lady uses 16,800 tampons in her lifetime, that’s 250 to 300 pounds of tampons and applicators. Tag on a few thousand pads and panty liners, and your ecological footprint is looking more like Sasquatch. Of particular offense are the plastic applicators some tampons are encased in. They are casually tossed into wastebaskets where they later escape the curb trash or landfill, trotted off by animals, resurfacing in parking lots and playgrounds and a host of other locations you’d rather not see them appear.

They come back from the watery depths to haunt you, too.

Plastic tampon applicators from sewage outfalls are one of the most common forms of trash on beaches. Yeah, you thought food wrappers and glass bottles and needles were the only gross & hazardous materials washing out to sea and coming back in with the tides. You flush them and that’s just the beginning. For building owners, pads and tampons that are flushed down the toilet are the most common cause of plumbing problems. Further down the flow, they end up the sewage treatment plants and surf into a lake or onto a river, and on into the ocean where they pool with the rest of the plastic detritus at the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. There it all sits and breaks down into ever smaller particles until they are the size and color of plankton or worse, are pelletized high-density polyethylene (HDPE) white “nurdles” that resemble fish eggs or food to sea creatures. Then the birds and fish ingest these hormone disrupters and concentrated toxins like PCB and DDE and the circle of life gets a big kick in the nurdles.

But it’s not just the animals somewhat removed from you, you’re an animal too, and guess what it’s doing to you by directly inserting it? Your conventional feminine hygiene products contain a mixture of rayon and cotton. Rayon is in your blouses, dresses, lingerie, linings, scarves, suits, ties, hats, socks, the filling in Zippo lighters, blankets, window treatments, upholstery, tire cord, yarn and diapers. It’s highly absorbent but no good at retaining shape and as far as biodegradability goes, it’s a real loser. Most importantly, synthetic materials like the Rayon used in tampons show an increased risk of toxic shock syndrome (TSS), particularly for superabsorbent tampons. So if you’re a bleeder, you’re a feeder.

And sweet, white cotton isn’t much better up in there. Cotton is highly pesticide-intensive; 25% of pesticides used globally are devoted to growing cotton. To achieve that lily-white look, pads and tampons are bleached with chlorine, a process which creates dioxins, a known carcinogen and those bad boys shouldn’t be placed anywhere near your reproductive organs. And you swear you never smoked a cigar in your life. Especially in a donkey show.

Think Outside the (Tampon) Box

It’s getting easier to select tampons, pads, and panty liners made from organic, unbleached cotton which is cultivated without the use of pesticides, fungicides, herbicides, sewage sludge, irradiation, petrochemicals, or genetic engineering. All of which we now have think about when looking at the towering isle of soothing, pastel colors, reminding us that yes – we’ll be back out there swimming, riding ponies, surfing at the beach and smiling while playing miniature golf in NO time.

O.B. tampons: small box, no applicator. Compact, simple cellophane wrapper covering them, easy to use, and take up very little room in your purse. It is unfathomable, but some women simple aren’t down with getting that up close and personal with their own lady bits and maybe getting their finger a little spotty. Come on darlings – this is no time to be prim and squeamish. If you haven’t seen it in a mirror to understand how it goes together and pushed the buttons to see how it works, you don’t deserve to have sex and should just hang an “Out Of Order” sign over your girdle loop. Get over it. Get into it. It’s yours. Deal.

OG-style Tampax: wrapped in paper, cardboard applicator that breaks down relatively quickly if they happen to get loose in the environment. Preferable to the Pearl brand, which has an indestructible plastic applicator strong enough for shotgun shell casings and is then further wrapped in coated paper. Awesome. Go ahead. Try running them over with your car. You can’t destroy them. They’ll only get dirty . . . and more angry. That plastic rocket launcher is just one more wasteful obstacle between you and your nana. I don’t even want to go into the perfumed varieties. Now on top of your plastic fetish, you’re going to open a vapor-impermeable pouch and stick this vulcanized, alcohol soaked albino vampire into your hoo-ha where no one and nothing but your senseless cervix can smell it? Well it doesn’t work and now you smell of lightly talcumed meat. Fail. p.s. Talc is closely related to the potent carcinogen asbestos and talc particles have been shown to cause tumors in the ovaries and lungs of cancer victims. So hey – go easy on sprinkling the Johnson’s about your leaky basement. It’s a safety hazard. You’ll slip and fall. No need to announce “clean-up on aisle one.”

Natracare and Seventh Generation: chemical-free, non chlorine-bleached, simple packaging which means even less waste. Eco-conscious enough with all the key ingredient and disclaimers including no animal-testing and skin-tested only on fellow humans. You can sleep well in the knowledge that no bunnies had to hop about with a maxi pad strapped to their fluffy bums and instead, some nice lady in a lab got itchy a few times. This is still within the normal scope of your monthly cycle.

Jade and Pearl Sea Sponge: natural tampons inspired by the traditional use of sponges by menstruating women of ancient times. So if you want to bleed like Cleopatra, this is your bag. The Egyptians invented the tampon too – so you can thank them for that little wonder. Sea sponges are available in Teenie, Regular, and Large and you precision(?) fit to size by trimming the sea sponge and experimenting with insertion. Wow. Try not to think about doing dishes or wiping counters or a nice hot sponge bath because really, I can’t see how this is either sanitary OR relaxing. So Sally, if you’re worried about sullying up the seashore, (welcome to my new menstrual tongue twister) this is all the rage amongst mythological aquatic creatures. Apparently, sea sponges are what mermaids use.

Menstrual Cups – i.e.: Diva cup, Mooncup, Instead Softcup, Lunette, Keepercup, LadyCup, Femmecup, Miacup: Ok. Here’s where I drawn the line. This ain’t a Dixie Cup, or a Sippie Cup, a Tommee Tippee Cup or an Ice Cream Cup. This is none of those fun, sweet, childlike associations. But I trust you probably got over that the first time you sprung a leak and wrecked your favorite Underroos or your expensive lingerie for failing to count the days. Maybe I just haven’t been brave enough to go with a new, miserable experience, but let me get this straight . . . i fold a plastic, rubbery cup into a jelly roll, insert this, it pops open like a tulip, i “stir” it around to make sure the umbrella’s been fully deployed, which may take some coaxing and pushing and twisting, and then I pull it out by its dangling tail at intervals, wash it and reinsert it like tiny, portable Tupper Ware?!?!

Oh, hell no!

i am not about to wash my snatch basket in the sink (and carry special, mild, perfume-free, hypo-allergenic fem soap) in between classes or you know, when i take a restroom break to freshen up while out to dinner. i mean, how does one do this discreetly? Oh, and once a month, i get the distinct displeasure of a 5-minute boil for my little traveling jellyfish at the end of the cycle in some dedicated kitchen equipment that never sees food. Or, hey, i can use rubbing alcohol (and not hydrogen peroxide) to sterilize it. But I have to be extremely careful not to soak it too long and allow it to dry completely and not degrade the integrity of the plastic and rinse the residue so I don’t fuck up my vaginal pH.

O.B. tampons sounding better all the time, huh? Can you imagine wringing out your sea sponge? Wouldn’t you rather “touch it” now?

Go With The Flow

There was a time when i worked at a place so uptight, they wouldn’t allow the female staff to carry in a purse. Whether this was for security or to keep outside worldly distractions such as cell phones to a minimum was unclear, but the idea completely incensed my friend Nicole.

“What?” she snapped. “Where are you supposed to carry your tampons, up your ass?”

i explained to her how bad the work environment sucked and how tension and impossible precision reigned, thus, the topic of anal retention seemed a very fitting description. The job had me so upset, i couldn’t poop for a week. Then i quit.

And many light flow days from then, here i was on a Wednesday nite, standing there in the supermarket isle, paralyzed by too many choices and horrible, far-reaching consequences of those attempts at informed decision. There i was: hungry, cranky, wanting ice cream and a heating pad at the same time, thinking about plumbing, and ocean waters and marine life and cancer of the Yoni.

i turn to the woman next to me who is clicking and sucking at her teeth in audible consternation, just like me, and we both smile nervously, amazed at the mini internal crisis over what we’re going to buy. Neither of us will move first, both seem to be wondering how the other will select, looking for a brave trend to follow. Somehow, there’s a preposterous sense of worry over being judged, like bringing a film or a music cd or a book to the checkout clerk, the fear of choosing poorly, unwisely, without taste or sensibilities. “Hmmm,” she says. “Yeahhhhh,” I mutter slowly and drawn out. And we both start giggling.

My cup of joy is overflowing

I consider my internal flowchart for assessing absorbency needs:

junior – aww, isn’t that cute, you inked!

light – Miss Kitty has a nose bleed.

regular – oh, yay. my period’s back.

super – omg that’s a lot of blood.

super plus – jesus, maybe you should go to the hospital!

ultra – uhh, i think that blood clot just asked for a cigarette.

i am looking for regular. Just something in between, just a few tampons, a starter pack, a holdover since i don’t see any of my normal go-tos. And all they have is “a mere scratch” or “Carrie – Prom Scene.”

So i think of the dolphins and the salmon and the seabirds and i grab the 10-pack with the small, recyclable cardboard box and no applicator with the green looking package and eco-claims to fame and the woman next to me does the same. Just enough to soldier on.

It’s all i can do, really. If i don’t want to leave with anymore acronyms. Say, add PTSD to my PMS. Christ Almighty in a hybrid – i can’t even BLEED with out feeling guilty about it in my new sustainable world concept! i leave with my chlorine-free, biodegradable, non-applicator, no plastic, rayon-free tampons and my razors (which are free from animal testing) and a pint of, yes, sorry, blood orange sorbet, and it’s a good thing. While i’m happily eating my cool treat, i don’t need to imagine poor, naked bunnies hopping around with razor burn and nicks with only a maxi-pad to keep them warm. And after all this guilt, i just want to sandwich a washcloth and tuck it in my drawers or just sit on a sock and call it good.

Museum of Menstruation and Women’s Health

for all your bleeding needs . . .

Three years ago, Marit and I tried to see Pan’s Labyrinth on a Saturday night. We probably should have realized that it would be sold out, but we didn’t. So, we walked across the street and somehow managed to get tickets to The Nutcracker (granted they were way up by the ceiling) still, as Marit would say, it was tight.

Last night, we went to the philharmonic (woohoo student tickets) and this time we got to sit in the orchestra! It was great fun. We heard Hayden’s 95th, a Piano concerto and then this epic symphony by Jean Sibelius.

So you know this song:

(Slash now all I’m doing is watching David Bowie clips, thanks Yoni)

So it starts something like dun dun dun dunnuh (repeat) DAVID BOWIE STOLE IT FROM SIBELIUS. Imagine an entire orchestra, section by section performing that. OK so I’m failing in the YouTube department at the moment, but it was great, you’ll have to take my word. Check out this video:

Here we are all grown up. Don’t you like how Marit is all grown up, but I seem to be wearing exactly the same outfit?

Shiloh and Friends

When you are having PMS, or even just the week before your period, try not to make major decisions or schedule critical meetings, at all. And remember that no matter how many times you tell yourself, this is how I really feel, and the rest of the time I am just glossing it over, it is not true. While there are truths to be realized during PMS, it is not the whole truth and should be used as a viewing tool, not as a tool to dismantle things.

Since you probably work with other women, know their cycle too, put it on your calendar. And if they call you and start ranting and raving, gently remind them that it is their cycle time and you’d like to talk next week. This is not silly girl stuff. This is wisdom. How many times have we regretted things we have done or said? And what if our friends, family, and associates knew us well enough to say, let’s talk later. No judgment. Just, this is not a good time to have this kind of conversation.

Also, know when your BEST time of the month is—usually, right after ovulation for me. And schedule BIG things and meetings and planning during that time. I simply do NOT schedule workshops and vacations and important meetings during that time. I schedule other things that are GOOD for me.

An important note: The whole week before and during the days of your period, do not stand in front of the mirror too long. Just don’t do it. Look later. And, have a few of your favorite outfits ready to go, matched up and dry cleaned. So that all you have to do is put them on without thinking too much about it. Prepare for your best times and your challenging times.

And please, please (if your periods are challenging and painful) try to schedule a two-three day window to take time off, lay in bed, eat ice cream and stay in a fluffy pink robe watching old movies and calling your grandmother to tell her you love her. I like to have one rest day, and then one day to leisurely do things that are important to me that I don’t give myself permission to do. Like research health websites on the internet, paint a painting just for me, or just paint my toe nails, write letters, take baths, braid my hair, gaze out the window, make a bouquet from my yard, cuddle with my cat, make an alter, make soup for my guy—homey kinds of things. Then you are not only rested, but nourished and ready to go when you get to the other side. And if you feel good enough, going out with girlfriends can be truly nourishing even if you drink a martini.  Olives are vegetable right? My grandmother Davis always uses to say, while eating 
pie a la mode for breakfast,

Everything in moderation….

Additional Words of Wisdom from other women on this subject…

Nancy Ballard

I went through all the craziness at 35, never imagining that menopause could hit at such a young age… if you are feeling crazy, having periods that flow like rivers, want to divorce your husband (which I almost did) and can’t stop crying or find any joy, wonder, happiness or delight in your life… you might want to look into the possibility of early menopause…who knew? Save yourself from the horror of losing your mind…. you may just be going through, what they called in the olden days, “the change.” PS – once diagnosed, I was given what I needed to subdue the horrible unknown. It was given a name and a cause. I was able to salvage my marriage and get on with my life; assured that I was NOT crazy, didn’t have aids, and was not a worthless, horrible, terrible waste….ie, the craziness of hormones run amuck.

Caron McCloud

I would not trade my old age for youth if that youth included periods and all that comes with them, like PMS and bleeding. Though I tried to get with the glory when, during the 70’s, feminists were romanticizing all things female, including menses, I just couldn’t get there. But maybe it’s just me, since after two years of jogging I never got the “joy of running” either. I feel that those who do have a hard time with periods or menopause should, if possible, follow the good advice to take a break instead of breaking our butts trying to pass ourselves off as sane (or by trying to jog) during these attacks. As for hot tempers, with or without flashes and hormones, I get a lot done when I’m angry. I once took part in a seminar where we had to act out enrolling someone while coming from a specific emotional state (such as joy, irritation, depression, love, enthusiasm) that was written on a slip of paper that we drew from a basket. The emotional state I drew was anger. Hey! Right up my alley. I was so enrolling that I got a standing ovation.

Mary MacDonald

I remember the day my stepdaughter Mercede got her period and she phoned me in tears – in pain -  and scared not knowing how this “curse of womanhood” would affect her life, and angry about the unfairness of it all. Being the wise sage I counseled her about the wonders of being a woman and how that began with your menses and the strength it gave us, the joy of being able to welcome new life – yada yada yada – how could I justify telling her this crap when for most of my life I suffered pain, anger and the indignities of bloating, blood and overflow on a monthly basis? The fear when my period was late, the anguish when it wasn’t. Men’s crass comments about “you must be on the rag” and their assumption in the workplace that you couldn’t make rational decisions “at that time of the month.” And yet when I looked into her beautiful face, tense with the anxiety of this new world being thrust at her, I was so happy to be with her in that moment reveling in our “sisterhood.” Her – not so happy.

elizaBeth Benson

I think I was 24, living on Catalina Island (as an earth day performance piece that wasn’t sponsored by Shell or Chevron), when I realized that something gets born every moon cycle. If it’s not a baby, it’s a new born part of yourself. At least that’s how it seems to me.

And being a woman means having a menstrual cycle. It means managing the vortex one becomes in the space of being used (by spirit? by God?) for the bringing forth of new life. And being a powerful woman means having a space and grace about one’s moon time. You remember how much you loved The Red Tent when you read it—and the idea of having a place to go off, away from everyone, to experience the rush and flow of bleeding woman? Even though we often can’t escape our surroundings to take ourselves away from our lives, we can move consciously and prayerfully through this gift of time. This requires a presence of mind, a consciousness of time,

a space for being kind and good and thoughtful of one’s self. I like to curl up with “chick flicks” and let myself cry. I like to indulge in chocolate as medicine for the duration. I like to take LOTS of hot baths and read some precious book I savor for these kinds of moments some delicious, self-indulgent fiction—not self-help. I like to put the top down and drive through forests or find a favorite rock and sit on it—thinking of how women in centuries past would have spent their week bleeding onto a rock—and their sacred cycles would have been honored as such. I like to color in Shiloh’s journals and coloring books, or draw like I did in high school—simple black line drawings that fill the page with hearts and eyes and rainbows. I like to sleep deep and indulgently—knowing that my dreams and the rest they provide will get me to the other side. When I remember to notice, or feel the swell of uncomfortable emotions, I like to warn my beloved—just mention that my period is coming. It helps when we both know what is going on….

Shannon McCloud

For me, the challenges of menses and its uninvited participation in my breakdowns and breakthroughs wasn’t about the heavy periods, intense pain and other major discomforts that many face. My challenge was feeling that I was in vivid high-definition technicolor via IMAX screen EMOTIONAL PMS for about three weeks out of each cycle. I agree that we need to adjust our schedule in order to align with our cycle, but this wasn’t an option for me working in the corporate world, and primarily with men. In reflection, PMS was even worse than “The Glass Ceiling.” I am surprised that I was able to become successful. Maybe it was through my “Denial Serving Its Purpose” program that I was able to appear present and intelligent while faking some semblance of sanity. A woman has to compensate on the outside so that the guys they work with don’t know what’s going on in the inside. Actually that’s not so hard ‘cause they never know anyway. Where did that term menopause originate anyway? Because they paused in shock and had nothing to say? When PMS or womopause comes into play, you gotta jive to survive and stay alive, and keep others out of harms way. Wait! I think I just wrote a poem! My main recommendation for both PMS and ?opause is to write poetry and spend as much time with women as possible. Women aren’t impossible to be with in the first place. No even during PMS. Also, focus on “Strong and Brave, not Weak and Afraid” with every breath you can take. If you actually find  time to breathe—let me know about that. Are we ever free from horror-mones at any point in our lives? I still, thank you Pasty Cline, feel like a “Kitten Caught Up a Tree” I also feel “Crazy.” I love you Pats. You make me feel normal. Speaking of normal, when I hit menopause, or should I say it hit me, I never did go back to meet with the boys. So in the end, I guess I did adjust my schedule.

Hormones, Hot Flashes, and Hot Tempers – Excerpted from Heart of the Visionary – which is a visionary book on business for women, you might wonder, what PMS has to do with women in business – if so – you must not be paying close enough attention! Tehe.

My browsing habits are often questioned – given some of the material I post in MH.

There will be a few raised eyebrows then, I’m sure, over this post.

According to one of the sites I check daily for news about what sites/stories are currently ‘hot’, portrait pendants being offered for sale on Etsy are attracting a lot of visitor traffic.

This is hardly surprising – the pendants are unusual in that they feature a ‘portrait’ of the wearer’s vulva.

Send in 2-3 pics of your ‘Yoni’ and for a trifling $23 a hand-sculpted image will be created for you to wear on a pendant round your neck.

If you’re shy about sending in pics, you can send a description instead. If choosing the latter option, however, you are asked to include the following information -

*The shape of your inner and outer labia
*colors
*how much or how little your inner labia extend out from your outer labia
*how well hidden your clitoris is, is it heavily hooded or can you see it fairly easily?

Source . . .

P.S. $23 huh? If any ladies are interested in owning a vulva pendant, you might be interested to know that me and Nobbly are offering a similar service. Send us some pics of your ‘Yoni’ and for a mere $20 we will send you a hand-sculpted model (in plasticine) of your Yoni mounted on a pendant threaded with garden twine.

How do you refer to your sexual organs?

Some years ago I started asking women in my workshops this question. I’ve discovered that the majority have no name for their sexual organs. After a shocked silence, most respond with the word vagina, which I reject. Firstly, it is inaccurate. Vagina is the name for the passage between the vulva and the uterus. It is also inadequate. Women have a range of sexual organs, more of a sexual system really. Besides the vagina, there is the labia majora and labia minora – the outer and inner vulva, the mons veneris – that’s the pubic region, between the vulva and anus is the perineum, and of course, the clitoris. The final and primary reason I reject vagina as the answer to this question is because it is a cop-out. A vagina is what you take to the gynaecologist not the bedroom or the night out with the girls for that matter.

Usually, after some prodding I get some real answers. Curiously most of the sentences start with; “My boyfriend/husband calls it…” So again I ask, “What do you call it?” Mine is a Pussy. I called it Yoni for a while but that felt a bit inaccessible. Yoni is a Sanskrit word, often used in Tantra to refer to female sexual organs; loosely translated it means “source or origin of life”. I like the associations the word Pussy conjures; cats, which are sensual, slinky, content, self-possessed. They invite and enjoy being stroked, they only do what gives them pleasure and they are gracious receivers. This is why pussy works for me. It might not work for you. The point is to think about yours, acknowledge it, own it, connect with it and establish a relationship with it. Your pussy is an inextricable part of your femininity.

I want to attribute this stunning image but I don't know who took it. If you do please let me know.

Can you fully harness your inherent feminine power, while for the most part you behave like you are merely babysitting it for your lover?

Imagine that as a young woman you were given a Ferrari as a gift, intended to be an ongoing source of pleasure for you. Imagine that you have since kept this car in the garage, never driving it yourself. You only let your lovers drive it. Only when there is a man behind the wheel do you pay your Ferrari some attention and get to experience the joy of owning it. Wouldn’t that be crazy? So why do that with your pussy?

If you were a financial director you wouldn’t give more money to a manager who never spends her budget, yet we expect our partners, life, and spirit, to increase the bliss in our lives when we hardly exploit the pleasure that is already ours. Did you know that the clitoris is the only human organ whose sole function is to give pleasure? God(dess) gave the clitoris to women.

As within so without; your outer world is a reflection of your inner world. Getting a pussy is saying yes to pleasure. Yes, to all the divalicious benefits of your femininity.

Why?'s Eskimo Snow shuns the hip-hop but still works incredibly well

PREVIEW: DOWNLOAD Why?’s “This Blackest Purse” MP3
WE GIVE IT: 14/20 Watts

While Eskimo Snow isn’t quite the jaunt through alternative hip-hop that its predecessor Alopecia was, the always-inventive Why? strive to keep things interesting and mostly succeed. In a weird indie rock equivalent to Lil’ Wayne’s insistence on releasing a rock album this year, Why? have put together both a well-informed rock record and a worthy follow-up to their past work.

You might miss their hip-hop sound, but the quintessential Why? elements are present on Eskimo Snow. Classily-orchestrated instrumentation like the keyboard intro to “January Twenty Something” and the lush swell of sound before the chorus of “Against Me” captivates the listener before Jonathan ‘Yoni’ Wolf gets to his lyrics.

Wolf’s poetry is nothing to sniff at. On many of the songs, rather than tell a clear story, he presents listeners with a series of threaded images. “This Blackest Purse” utilizes this technique masterfully against a melancholy piano line with the lyrics, “The poseur in the bowler gets shot first / Thinks he’s the shit, ‘cause he can spit and curse / Actin’ brash and flashin’ a pistol that squirts / Scowling and shouting ‘Shall we dance?’”

But perhaps the album’s most notable asset is what makes it so different from Alopecia. The final three songs that close the album are folk-rocking ballads that would do the likes of Wilco proud, and are a far cry from “By Torpedo or Crohn’s” or “Exegesis” on Alopecia. Rather, Wolf sings about going to “Berkeley by Hearseback” and “speak[ing] at an infinite decibel” in the aforementioned “This Blackest Purse.” The title track closes the album’s ten songs with a fade-out and a degree of style that Alopecia’s finale didn’t have.

However, Eskimo Snow definitely has problems, despite Wolf’s lyricism. The piano and keyboards that we love so much figure too similarly throughout the record, leaving something to be desired in terms of song variety. They aren’t bad songs, but most of them do follow the same patterns, which works against the album as a whole.

Why?’s unpredictability has always been one of their most entertaining aspects. Eskimo Snow is something both unexpected and generic, which is strange, but understandable, considering the album plays like not much else in Why?’s discography.

– Eric Vilas-Boas

Pada mulanya, operasi ini dinamakan Thunderball, dikenal pula sebagai Operation Entebbe. Belakangan nama ini diganti menjadi Jonathan Operation sebagai bentuk penghormatan kepada pahlawan mereka, Jonathan Netanyahu.

Kisah bermula pada tanggal 27 Juni 1976. Sebuah pesawat Airbus milik Air France yang sebagaian besar berpenumpang warga negara Israel dibajak ketika berada diatas udara Eropa.

Pesawat ini berangkat dari Tel Aviv menuju Paris dan dibajak setelah transit di Turki. Pelaku pembajakan kemudian diketahui berjumlah 4 orang, 2 orang Palestina dan 2 orang Jerman yang salah satunya perempuan.

Pembajak selanjutnya mengarahkan pesawat ke Benghazi, Libya. Setelah mengisi bahan bakar mereka lantas membawa pesawat mengarah ke selatan menuju Uganda dan mendarat di bandara Entebbe. Idi Amin, penguasa Uganda waktu itu ternyata malah memberikan perlindungan. Di Entebbe lantas bergabung pula 4 anggota pembajak lain.

Peristiwa ini langsung menjadi pembahasan serius di Israel. Pemerintah Israel berupaya menyusun berbagai skenario pembebasan, termasuk opsi operasi militer. Sampai titik ini pembajak jelas berada diatas angin. Entebbe berlokasi ribuan kilometer dari Israel. Selain itu, mereka mendapat perlindungan penuh dari Idi Amin. Kondisi ini membuat operasi militer amat sulit untuk dilakukan.

Setelah melalui perdebatan, didapat dua skenario operasi pembebasan: 1. Menerjunkan pasukan amfibi di Danau Victoria yang berlokasi dekat bandara Entebbe untuk selanjutnya menyusup dan membebaskan sandera, 2. Mendaratkan pasukan langsung di bandara Entebbe dilanjutkan penyerbuan untuk membebaskan sandera.

Menjelang batas akhir, akhirnya skenario kedua yang dipilih, mendaratkan pasukan langsung ke bandara. Kekuatan yang akan mendarat di Entebbe dibagi menjadi dua: unit penyerbu yang akan membebaskan sandera dan pasukan pendukung yang akan berjaga mengamankan bandara.

Unit penyerbu akhirnya dipercayakan ke pasukan khusus Israel, Sayeret Matkal. Unit ini dipimpin oleh Jonathan Netanyahu, kakak dari perdana menteri Israel saat ini, Benyamin Netanyahu. Sedangkan pasukan pendukung terdiri atas gabungan pasukan lintas udara (linud) dan Brigade Golani. Iring-iringan akan terdiri atas 4 pesawat Herculas, 3 mengangkut pasukan sedang pesawat keempat akan dipergunakan untuk mengangkut sandera.

Urutan operasi secara garis besar direncanakan sebagai berikut: Hercules akan berangkat dari Israel; terbang rendah untuk menghindari deteksi radar negara-negara Arab; mendarat di Bandara Entebbe tanpa terdeteksi; unit penyerbu menuju terminal lama tempat sandera disekap; pasukan pendukung mengamankan bandara; unit penyerbu kemudian melumpuhkan pembajak plus tentara Uganda yang mungkin turut menjaga sandera; membebaskan sandera dan mengangkutnya dalam Hercules; mengisi bahan bakar di Entebbe atau Kenya; terbang pulang ke Israel.

Terminal Lama Entebbe

Jelas saja ini rencana yang ambisius. Dengan tanah asing yang harus mereka darati plus minimnya informasi intelejen, kesalahan sangat mungkin terjadi. Dalam situasi kritis macam ini, kesalahan kecil bisa berarti bencana dan jatuhnya korban.

Terlepas dari informasi intelejen yang tidak benar-benar lengkap, akhirnya pemerintah Israel pada tanggal 3 Juli 1976, memberikan lampu hijau untuk operasi ini. Setelah mendarat, pasukan penyerbu yang merupakan pasukan elit Sayeret Matkal akan menyamar dengan menaiki sedan dan dua Land Rover berplat dan berbendera Uganda.

Mereka harus  menuju bangunan terminal lama yang berjarak beberapa ratus meter dari tempat pendaratan tanpa terdeteksi, kemudian menyerbu untuk melumpuhkan pembajak dan membebaskan sandera. Jumlah pasukan penyerbu tentu saja terbatas, hanya 30 orang.

Tugas ini ternyata dapat dituntaskan baik oleh Sayeret Matkal. Semua pembajak akhirnya tertembak mati plus 45 tentara Uganda juga tercatat tewas. Selain itu, pasukan pendukung yang mengamankan bandara juga berhasil meledakkan 11 pesawat tempur jenis MiG-17 milik angkatan udara Uganda. Semua pesawat ini sedang parkir manis di pangkalan.

Dari 105 sandera, 3 dinyatakan tewas dan 10 lainnya luka-luka. Dari pasukan Israel hanya 1 korban tewas. Ironisnya, korban tewas ini adalah Jonathan Netanyahu, sang komandan Sayeret Matkal sendiri. Yoni -panggilan Jonathan- yang berpangkat letkol baru berusia 30 tahun ketika sebuah peluru menembus dada dan merobohkannya.

Sejak saat itu Yoni menjadi buah bibir nasional. Sebagai penghormatan, namanya kemudian disematkan kepada operasi yang telah meminta nyawa mudanya.[]

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So many readers have commented on the connection between the muck and the Lotus, that it seemed only apt to devote an entry to the Lotus and the proverbial jewel within Her.  Om mani padme hum.  The jewel, resting within the thousand-petaled lotus which blooms within the awakened heart.  Omg,  mani padme hum.  The lingam resting within the yoni.  Om mani padme hum.  The most exquisite lotus blooming pure from the filthiest, muddy waters, and humanity arising, finally and pure, from the muck of the collective psyche of impressions,  separating us from the knowledge of who and what we truly are.

Listen, the Lotus does not arise exquisite despite of the filth of the mud, the Lotus arises exquisite because of it.  Listen, the Lotus does not arise exquisite despite of the filth of the mud, the Lotus arises exquisite because of it.  Listen: 

All existence is a mirror of the Divine Creative Intelligence of the Infinite.  Born into form through the gates of the Divine Mother, the Manifestation delights in its own existence and the Manifestation delights the Infinite.  We are the Manifestation.  We are, each of us, an embodiment of the Divine.  And Divine, when the Doorway of the Heart opens, it is the Infinite which awakens within us.

References:

To learn more about Om Mani Padme Hum–

A general introduction is acquired here– http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Om_mani_padme_hum

From the Office of the Tibetan Government in Exile.  That’s right, it doesn’t get more official than this– http://www.tibet.com/Buddhism/om-mantra.html

http://www.dharma-haven.org/tibetan/mani-graphics.htm

Basics information, straightforward and easy to grasp– http://www.dharma-haven.org/tibetan/meaning-of-om-mani-padme-hung.htm

The next series of posts to be posted will respond to the ideas of organic and natural. The reason behind this move in a new direction presents it self for multiple reasons:

a/. I felt my artwork was losing a natural feel; by this I mean the constant usage of gels/mediums, artificial textures, unnatural hues, etc.

b/. No clear direction in regards to ideas.

This step in a different direction was partially due in response to desperation: I was desperate to yield anything ‘new.’ More so, I knew that Outside it’s America has content that could extend to multiple concepts and ultimately pieces. How I would be able to utilize those ideas was unclear. U2’s newest released album No Line On The Horizon was a return to experimentation and seemingly evoked an underlying tone of natural. I will go further into depth about how their music was exponential to the new direction and what influences culturally help to create the bedrock.

Climbing up the West Tower of the Minster Cathedral in the middle of Freiburg im Breisgau, one can look to the east and see the Longmei (the Dragon Vein) of the Schlosssberg Mountain feeding the Diqi (the Earth Qi) into this wonderful old town founded in 1120.

Freiburg has the classic Feng Shui location of having a mountain at the back (located at the foothill of the Black Forest mountains) and facing the Rhein River to the front with a generous Mingtang in between.

In an old and well-preserved town like this, the church tower is still the urban marker, visible from all directions, and functioning like an Accupoint of the land to mark the Xue (the Feng Shui Spot) for the town.

The square outside the Minster is the heart of the old town and the open space on both sides (a double Mingtang) draws the visitors and the locals like a magnet with its potent mix of commerce and religion, there is a market everyday except Sunday and church services everyday. 

The Minster is dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, so it is consecrated to the “Yin Qi of Creation’, according to the Chinese, and when one looks at the West Portal with its Yang Tower soaring into the sky (116M high) and the Yin Gothic entry porch like a Yoni, one cannot but feel the creative power of Yin and Yang coming together to give life to this vibrant old town.

To me, the act of creation is further accentuated symbolically by the 3 vertical columns located in front of the West Portal, 3 being the Yang number that give rise to 10,000 things (from the ground up).

But death is always present in the midst of life and one can see in some of the sculptures inside the church, so do enjoy every living moment we have and this was how I felt as we drove towards the French border this morning on our way to Provence….

Anger. Women’s anger directed at other women. The emotion was so tangible, so raw, I can taste it still.  Memories of my own experiences of female aggression were triggered when I surfed through some of the popular childbirth websites online this past week.  Common to the comment threads was an antagonism directed towards women whose birth experiences were diametrically opposed to their own. There seem to be thick walls between the 25-30% of women who have given birth through caesarean sections, the 80-95% of women in urban areas who have given birth within the parameters of epidural anaesthesia and women who have birthed with full sensation and little or no intervention. Why do we feel so threatened? Why do we lash out at each other? 

I think we are individually and collectively expressing the fragmentation of the Feminine. It is painful.  In the denial of the Feminine that is the structure of all contemporary societies, medical knowledge is divorced from wisdom. In this separation, both aspects are weakened and neither can receive or support the other. The current situation for women in India is an example of this. I happened on a website based around the work of Janet Chawla who founded the NGO, Matrika. Its mission is “the linking of indigenous skills, attitudes, diagnostics and therapeutics with modern allopathic medecine.” Most births in India are still in the hands of dais, traditional midwives who are often illiterate but who “read the fertile female body.” Matrika now has “ample data demonstrating a radically different understanding of the world and of bodily processes than that underlying modern medecine and public health.” This understanding is common to the Feminine the world over. In listening to the video interviews of dais on the website, I was moved by the universality of  their experience. Moved too by the heart breaking position they are in of not having the medical skills, the resources or the respect essential to provide complete care. It is a tragedy that these two aspects of knowledge are separated by caste, class, money, institutional education and government policy.  The polarized situation in India is highlighted by the fact that the ”best hospitals” there have a caesarean rate of 80%!  Both the wealthy and the poor are suffering.

Both the east and the west are suffering. Midwifery in Ontario has the medical aspect firmly in hand but  the connection to the sacred understanding of birth that individual midwives may have is not tethered in a collective spiritual tradition or in a practical training in the technologies of breath and sound that are the pathways of the Feminine. Initiation into the “radically different understanding of the world” is not a given.

The radical realization is that we are already whole. There is nothing to fight for. I just learned from Matrika’s website that the Sanskrit word Yoni, referring to a woman’s vagina and womb, shares the same root as the word Yoga. Yuj means ‘union’. A woman is Yoga. In her, everything unites. Her yoni is the place where male and female merge. Where life is renewed and therefore where death is born. Where the past, our genetic history, and the substance of our cells, form the vehicle for the future. Where the unmanifest becomes manifest. Where the hidden is revealed. Where the power and the mystery of life are sourced. Connecting to our bodies brings integration, wisdom. It is only in this state of wisdom that our intelligence can function, that we can make decisions and take action based on the clear discernment of love rather than the haze of fear. 

In the Sri Yantra, the ancient visual expression of the totality of existence, four upward pointing triangles, the male principle, merge with five downward pointing triangles, the female principle. The Sri Yantra tells us that the female principle is a slightly stronger force that the male principle surrenders to. The yantra is not a political statement in the war of the sexes but an illustration of how Life/Love comes into being.  The work of Matrika is to honour the Feminine by listening to what the dais know and understand before giving them additional medical skills, skills that can be integrated into their work rather than be the means of its destruction.  What is our path here in the west?  What will be the bridge between the masculine medical model and the feminine wisdom that is buried more deeply underground here?  What will heal womankind?  To know we are union and the peace inherent in it is a sweet taste on the tongue.

The female organs of generation were revered as symbols of the generative powers of Nature or of matter, as those of the male were of the generative powers of God. They are usually represented emblematically by the shell Concha Veneris, which was therefore worn by devout persons of antiquity, as it still continues to be by the pilgrims of many of the common people of Italy.

Sicherlich haben Sie schon bemerkt, daß unser Stammstudio nicht in Hannover ist, sondern in Bielefeld. Dennoch können Sie in den Genuß unserer wunderbaren Tantra Massagen kommen. Zu Messezeiten ist unser Team mobil in Hannover und Sie haben die Möglichkeit Massagen zu buchen.

Wir besuchen Sie in Ihrem Messehotel oder Sie können unsere mobile Location aufsuchen. Rechtzeitige verbindliche Buchungen sind unerläßlich.

* Yoni Kurs

* Body Touch Massage

* Tantra Session

* Surprise Deluxe

Die nächsten Termine sind voraussichtlich: September und Oktober 2009. Termine hier

Ihr Tantra Magic Massage Team, mobil in Hannover

Siem Reap, Cambodia

April 25, 2008

Banteay Srei is anti-Angkor. It is everything that Angkor Wat is not.

First off, Banteay Srei is remote, even by Cambodian standards. It takes more than 30 minutes by tuk-tuk from Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom. As such, making the trip costs an additional $20 to the tuk-tuk per-diem rental. But despite the distance and the added cost, the rewards of visiting Banteay Srei are manifold.

Lady Under The Lintel

Built in 967 CE, the temple preceded the more well-known Angkorian monuments by two centuries. And unlike the temple-mountains, this was not built by a king, but rather by a Brahmin, Yajnavaraha, a royal monk, as a temple dedicated to Shiva, the Hindu god.

Causeway to the Citadel

Perhaps that’s why Banteay Srei is miniature in scale rather than massive. A Brahmin need not build a grand temple to match his illusions of grandeur. One can have an enchanting promenade around the monastery in less than an hour. The complex is squarish. From a short entry causeway, you can go either way on the sides to go round the enclosures. In the central courtyard stand three towers guarded by pink monkeys and other mythical beasts.

If other Angkorian temples are more somber in color and awe-inspiring in scale, this one is flamboyant and whimsical. Splashes of pastel colors of the hard pink sandstone it was made from reflect the warmth and light of the beating Cambodian sun, giving a sense of a jacked-up thermostat. Also, there are no covered hallways here as in other temples.

Lounging Under The Lintel

There is no escaping the relentless UV rays of the sun, except in that small shaded spot under the lintels on doorways. But disconcerting heat only adds to the otherworldliness of this watercolor-painting-come-to-life. Pink, red, crimson, terra cotta orange hues drench the temple in technicolor. A Bollywood touch in Angkorian architecture.

But colors can only be an arresting sight from afar. Upon closer inspection, the bas-reliefs can hold their own. They are dense and deep. More so than those in Angkor. They are mesmerizing in their detail and density. Mythical images of legendary battles and Hindu gods and demons crowd the panel on which they are carved. They are mostly on lintels and pediments (crossbeams and triangular crowns on doorways, respectively) so you mostly have to look up, as opposed to the eye-level bas-relief in Angkor.

Greater appreciation could be had if you know the myths and stories depicted in the bas-reliefs. These include scenes from Indian classics, Ramayana and Mahabharata. A guide could explain the narrative carvings while you toast under the sun. A parasol is recommended for a more pleasant storytelling session.

A God is in the Details

Pinkish Pediment

This is a pediment on a portico. It shows the god Shiva atop Kala, a mythical beast on which he holds sway. The elaborate designs and impeccable symmetry are breathtaking, a testament to the great skill and creativity of the ancient Khmer. The ornamental designs are not only notable for their intricate details, but also for their well-preserved state for over a thousand years!

The pediments and lintels are some distance above the ground. They require a camera with good zoom functionality to capture the fine artistry on them.

Kala: The Mythical Monster

One attention-grabbing character on these carvings is Kala, the mythical monster with unmistakably bulging eyes and grinning smile. He has a lion’s head and clawed hands. It is usually carved on doorways as a figure of protection. I initially had not intended to take a photo of a frozen demon with a creepy stare, but the attention to minutiae by the ancient artisans who carved these figures was hypnotizing and could draw you in.

The central towers and mandapas are flanked by pink monkeys. These pairs of sculpted mythical primates are both genuine relics and modern replicas. Half of the sculptures are preserved in museums in Siem Reap and Phomn Penh. The other half are left intact here. A trained eye could differentiate them. Devatas are housed in the niches on the tower walls. False doors also decorate the wall. It can be baffling to see these solid doors, but they are an intrinsic component in Angkorian architecture.

Mythical Monkeys of the Monastery

Recessed and Niched Central Towers

Banteay Srei literally means “citadel of women”. The reason for which is still a mystery, but it doesn’t seem to be a misnomer. The temple’s delicacy of details, diminutive size, and pastel colors all contribute to its feminine charm. Not surprisingly, there is a yoni in one of the open chambers. It is a square stone that symbolizes the vulva. On it sits a linga, a phallic symbol associated with Shiva. It offers a solid indication of the stature of women in Khmer society at that time.

Phallus on Vulva

Banteay Srei is truly a diminutively delicate “Jewel of Khmer Art” (as it is popularly known), far removed from the imposing massiveness and grandeur of other Angkorian temples. But it’s good to know that Girl Power was alive and well a thousand years ago in ancient Khmer.

Tympanum with Ayee and Donna