#also i was thinking like. their celibacy + virginity + central spiritual place in the kin do be reminding me a lot of priestesses

[meirimerens]

thinking about how mishandled the herb brides are because like. The Text tells us they're not sexual beings (P1 mentions them being virgins, engaged to the Earth, and not to be touched even by their husbands, almost, for a lack of a better word and to conjure an image more than anything, priestess-types) and that their dances are nonsexual and sacred (all all true and correct) WHILE. giving them detailed / 3D modeled nipples. topless. clothes very conveniently torn [in ways that would be unrealistic for actual dancing like in the fucking moshpit]. all pretty thin hairless white-passing blemishless 20-something women. being already sexualized as white-passing asian women, but if they looked more like other NPC models/members of the Kin like the Kayura models (which to me would make more sense because they are never mentioned to be mixed in the way Artemy, an indigenous man who's blonde blue eyes due to being mixed, is [while still very much being indigenous and it being a central part of his story]), it would be even more obvious and would steer even more into Very Blatant fetishization of asian women. and then one asks, are they white-passing because they're sexualized? are they sexualized because they're white-passing? was it an admission of guilt to not make them look like Kayura model, because it would be too obvious then? or is it an admission of lust for women more white-passing? is it about beauty in the eye of the beholder?

then there's bewildering and dehumanizing lore of members of the Kin being non-humans, through the existence of the Worms (literally half-soil), them being a (more or less literal) hivemind, and that being "less human"/closer to the earth (nice_dichotomy_what_lies_outside_of_it png but also... the game touches on that...) immunizes them to the Earth's disease... and yet the Brides look like women... pretty thin hairless white-passing blemishless 20-something women who someone found wise to give 3d modeled nipples to, still good for the ritual cutting... do you hear how i'm going mad yet...

edit to add because while i was so mad and it WAS in my mind i just didn't have the strength to add it when i first wrote:

and they're bought and traded between the odonghs they pair with (again, closer to cattle or things) ... ladies there's so much. there's too much.

#werewolf tearing shirt off again #ah well. [lets myself drift away in the images i've made of the brides and my constant quest to humanize them and respect them and #make them diverse and full of life. which i might never manage to and yet i try.] #also i was thinking like. their celibacy + virginity + central spiritual place in the kin do be reminding me a lot of priestesses #[really sorry for boxing them in like that but if there is stuff of the same thing just with another name imagine i used it here #i just don't know any other] #and priestesshood famously was an option for women to avoid marriage; and often domestic/sexual servitude to their husbands #same for nuns who are also said to be like. ''engaged to christ'' in their own way (again only making tangentially similar patterns; #not calling the Brides nuns of course) #so having them be Said to be nonsexual [until they're said to be etc] while being Shown as sexualized it's like. oooh the misery #neigh (blabbers) #disclaimer i'm white & i'm sure Many indigenous women regardless of origins have touched on this in more direct and deeper ways i ever coul #oh there's also the fact that the kin is said in design document to mirror in ways 19th century native americans #and the herb brides going to sexualize themselves in the B.H. ''for outsiders'' (p1 dialogues) #mirrors native american women being pushed in brothels from the crushing roller of colonization stripping them of land #pushing them into poverty and homelessness #in ways that i um. raised eyebrow emoji to say the least. find deeply uncomfortable.

[thefinalgirlspeaks]

The Exorcist (William Friedkin, 1973)

Feminist Horror Film Review by TheFinalGirlSpeaks

“But while the theme of spiritual decline is central to The Exorcist, it is secondary to the film’s exploration of female monstrousness and the inability of the male order to control the woman whose perversity is expressed through her rebellious body.” (Barbara Creed, The Monstrous Feminine, 1993)

On a dark, misty night, lit only by a single streetlamp, a lone priest stands on a deserted pavement, gazing up at the window of a child’s bedroom. This is the iconic image we have all come to associate with The Exorcist (Friedkin, 1973). Except not the image, nor the only character displayed in it, nor the title, are the subject of the film. The Exorcist poster misleads the spectator into believing that they will be watching a film about a tenacious ghost-hunter, rather than a story about a little girl hurled into a terrifying demonic ordeal. This initial misdirection is just the tip of an iceberg of what’s to come. Throughout the film, the female characters are repeatedly pushed into degrading, secondary roles. They loiter in the background, serving either as tools through which the male characters can deal with their troubles, or more often, as the weapons of castration. 

The Corrupted Virgin A virgin woman in a horror film is a precious and coveted tool. She, unlike her harlot friends, has the clarity of mind to get away from her attempted killer. Unburdened by the haze of lust that clogs the brain of the non-virgin, the virgin can see that the killer is more likely to catch her if she runs up the stairs than if she sprints out the door towards her neighbours with the AK-47 and steel shutters. She is coveted by all, including the villain, but entirely unattainable, thanks to her good sense of morality, and her determination to abstain from intercourse until the wedding night. In The Exorcist, our virginal heroine is not the typical prudish, down-to-Earth teen ignoring her pubescent urges, but a girl of just twelve, too young to be thinking of anything other than the pet horse she covets, or picnics by the river. In the first twenty minutes of the film, Regan’s childishness is brought firmly to our attention. She play-fights with her mother, displays naïve ignorance towards the true purpose of an Ouija Board, and even steals actual cookies from the jar. Friedkin deliberately presents Regan as a sweet, pure little girl; in proving her total, girlish innocence, he is able to maximise the horror of her eventual, and horrifying, corruption. The very first shot of Regan is a POV from Chris, her mother, creeping into Regan’s bedroom as she sleeps. The little girl is shown laid in the bed that will later become the scene of the worst horror. Her covers are thrown off her, exposing her small body, in only a nightdress, to the cold night air rushing in through the open window. In Gothic literature, wind penetrating the castle walls is a common trope, an allusion to the oncoming (though rarely explicit) sexual penetration of the Gothic heroine – usually a young, innocent virgin. For Regan to be so openly exposed to the open window in the very first scene we see her, implies her incoming (or perhaps already happening) penetration by whatever demon later makes itself known inside her body. Even the shot itself has nauseating similarities to pornographic ‘POV’ videos, where men secretly approach their young, sleeping female conquests, before defiling them. As Andrew Scahill points out in the excellent essay ‘Demons Are A Girl’s Best Friend’, Regan is often seen wearing a particular shade of blue, “reminiscent of the Virgin Mary but also, perhaps more blasphemously to the secular crowd, Dorothy Gale”. Either way, the purpose of this costume choice is clear: Regan is an innocent, pure, virgin, ready for corruption. Whilst this might be enough for some to find Friedkin’s vision unimaginably grotesque, there are further explorations in his misogyny within the film that I will attempt to unravel.

The Helpless Mother Despite her necessity to the plot, The Helpless Mother is always an infuriating character to watch. She flails her way through the film, usually the only person who - at least at first - can see the horror for what it is. Typically however, she behaves so hysterically in response that she is never believed until it’s too late. In The Exorcist, The Helpless Mother is Chris MacNeil, a beautiful, young actress living with her daughter and a multitude of staff, but – horror of horrors – no husband. Chris is at once presented as the liberally-minded harlot of the film, attracting demonic attention with her sinful determination to go against the grain of heterocentric society. Chris is divorcing her husband, non-discreetly, arguing with him on the phone and cursing him openly to her ‘secretary’, Sharon (more on her later). She leaves her child in Sharon’s care whilst she swans about on a film set, instead of looking after Regan herself. She has short hair (often symbolic of a woman getting a little too independent for her own good – see Rosemary Woodhouse), and has an unsuitably superficial career. Chris MacNeil is, in society’s eyes, enough of a stain on the proper order of things to deserve everything she gets. By choosing to remain man-less, Chris has created a perfect environment for a demon to invade, as without a mighty male presence around, who will fight off the forces of evil threatening the young and vulnerable? The women? – pah! The Helpless Mother is, inherently, unable to protect against the dark force threatening herself and her child. She must, after a long, screechy, but valiant attempt to overcome her womanly limitations, seek help from the nearest available man. Chris’ helplessness is first symbolised by a futile attempt to close Regan’s bedroom window (it is found open multiple times throughout the film), which, as we have previously deduced, is likely letting in more than just a chill. Even in the opening scenes, the house that Chris has provided for herself and her daughter is shown to be sub-standard; she cannot run the house without her servants, cleaners, cooks and other staff, and the seals that should be protecting them from the outside world are easily broken into. Interestingly, and unusually, Chris is not the only helpless mother-figure running about during the drama. Sharon Spencer, who claims to be both Regan’s tutor and Chris’ secretary, matches Chris’ level of incompetence. Both Sharon and Chris wail and run about the house together, each high off of the other’s terror, at a loss for how to handle Regan’s new-found penchance for spewing curse words and bodily fluids, interspersed with crucifix-masturbation. I bring Sharon to the forefront of the viewer’s attention for the simple reason that, at first, she seems totally irrelevant. The Helpless Mother position has already been filled, and she serves no real purpose other than keeping true to the original novel, . However, I propose we view Sharon’s odd, insistent presence from a new perspective. What is the one thing that threatens a heterocentric society more than a single, faithless, liberal mother? A single, faithless, liberal, lesbian mother. Whilst it may not be explicit – and no doubt Friedkin had no interest in dwelling on a dull female-only relationship when he could be exploring the tortured mindset of our male lead – in my view, Sharon and Chris are, for the duration of the film, Regan’s parents. Sharon is conspicuously there, in exactly the place where the mysterious, and absent, ex-husband should be. Sharon cares for Regan, she greets Chris when she arrives home from work, and she is the emotional support Chris seeks after Burke’s death. She lives in the house, with Chris and Regan, and remains there throughout the entire ordeal. Presumably, as a mere ‘secretary’ and ‘tutor’, Sharon would be well within her rights to slip out when the horror gets too much, and claim that battling a Demon does not fall under her job description. Instead, Sharon is just as invested as Chris in Regan’s plight - and why wouldn’t she be? Regan is, essentially, her daughter too. So, The Exorcist gives us not one, but two Helpless Mothers. The only adult, non-elderly women with actual roles, and neither of them possess any depth or  real purpose except warming up the stage for the men.

The Misogynistic Hero Embodying the film’s intrinsic disrespect for women is our male hero, Father Karras. A troubled priest, caught between the torturous realisation of his shaken faith, and caring for his elderly mother. It is clear to me that, due to his current state of inner turmoil, Karras is quite possibly the worst person for the job of expelling a Demon from a young girl’s body.   Due to the forced celibacy of his profession, and worsened by his growing loathing for his burden of a mother, Father Karras is consumed by his hatred for the female sex; it is this hatred, rather than a desire to save Regan from a hellish fate, that drives him. Karras’ mother (hereafter referred to as ‘Mother Karras’) is, presumably, the only woman that Father Karras has ever had any sort of close relationship with. Aside from the women in his congregation, whom he would likely have to remain professionally distant from, he would have no reason, as a Priest, to engage with a woman in any meaningful way. Consequently, for Father Karras, his mother’s words and actions are not just her own; she speaks for herself, and all women.  It is, of course, just as things with Regan are worsening, that Mother Karras is taken, against her will, to a (terrible) psychiatric ward, filled with more decrepit old women, half-mad from their varying stages of dementia. Throughout the film, beginning with the opening Iraq setting, elderly (often cloaked, wisened) women are repeatedly used as symbols of fear. As Barbara Creed points out in her analysis of The Exorcist in ‘The Monstrous Feminine’, “the sense of foreboding seems to be particularly linked to the sinister, robed figures of these women who, in this context, take on the stereotypical features associated with the witch as hag or post-menopausal woman – black dress, hump, wrinkled face, toothless grin.” (Creed, 1993). Aside from this being true of Mother Karras, one could even make the argument that, as the possession reaches its climax, Regan loses her youthful appearance, and becomes haggard, sickly, ugly, her voice deepening, her body twisting in an unnatural, arthritic way.  In the asylum, one of these dementia-riddled ‘hags’ even snatches Father Karras’ Priest collar, thereby stripping him of his purpose. In the next moment, his mother strips him of the only thing he has left, his manhood, by disgustedly chiding him for not being able to afford her proper care. Father Karras is left alone with the consuming guilt of failing his mother in her final days (she dies soon after), and with it, a burning anger towards her for blaming him so unfairly, and in doing so, draining him of his masculinity. With Mother Karras gone, not even graspable in the nightmares in which she haunts him, Father Karras’ fury spreads beyond just her, to the sex she represents: women in general, and specifically one young girl, whose poorly timed possession tale will land her right at his mercy.  Regan Macneil, on the brink of womanhood - and thus, in Karras’ eyes, on the brink of becoming an emasculating witch - is the perfect summation of everything Karras cannot stand. With the Demon’s targeted taunts falling, jarringly, from her young mouth – “your mother sucks cocks in hell!” stands out as a particularly provocative jibe – Regan becomes Karras’ perfect little punching bag. He is even freed of the irritating shackles that might normally prevent a fully-grown man from beating up a twelve-year-old, because wait, she’s not a child, she’s a Demon. 

From a Mulvey perspective, the male gaze here is shockingly twisted. The men in the audience, watching the climactic scenes of this film, are able to place themselves in the shoes of Father Karras (a Priest! He must be on the side of the goodies, right?), and join him in his cathartic expulsion of rage against a little girl.  The pleasure in watching this derives from the liberation of a male desire to beat her back from the edge of pubescence, to keep her as an innocent and controllable child. It is no accident that Regan is on the verge of her climb into adulthood. A 2010 article titled ‘What The Ever-Popular Exorcist Says About Female Sexuality’ states that, “as the film unravels, the text begs the question, ‘Why is there evil in a world God created,’ while the subtext asks, ‘Is there anything more terrifying than a teenage girl?’”.  The answer, for many men, is no. A young girl, realising her female independence, discovering her sexuality, her womanhood, her strength – this is the moment a man wishes, subconsciously, he could crush. In Regan MacNeil, it is acceptable to do so, because the adolescent-like Demon lurking within her is not just an awakening libido and a desire to sulk, wear short skirts, and sneak out after dark. It is, according to the Priests and doctors, a real Demon, one that an everyman, like Father Karras, can use brute force to fight, and to banish for good. 

#thefinalgirlspeaks #horror film review #horror film #the exorcist #feminist film

[shawnketner]

Vesta, the Elemental Flame

The asteroid, Vesta, was discovered by German astronomer, Heinrich Wilhelm Olbers, on March 29, 1807.  She resides in the main asteroid belt, has a diameter of 503 kilometers, and an orbital period around the Sun of 3.63 years.  Vesta's basalt-like surface has a very high albedo, or reflectivity, and a spectral curve which resembles that of achondrite meteorites.  It's the brightest of the main-belt asteroids and barely visible to the naked eye in clear dark skies. Mythological Background Vesta, or Hestia to the ancient Greeks, is best known as the goddess of the hearth and keeper of the sacred flame.  In Greek mythology, Vesta was the first born of Cronus (Saturn) and Rhea and the last to be reborn when Zeus (Jupiter) freed his siblings from Saturn's stomach.  Vesta chose to remain a virgin, refusing to marry either Apollo or Poseidon.  Considering some of the men she had to choose from, this was not rocket science.  Every home as well as the central public hearth in every city contained a shrine to this goddess, who watched over the family and state.  Roman priestesses whose duty was to tend the sacred flame were known as vestal virgins.   Fire was not only essential, but sacred to the ancients.  Whenever the Greeks emigrated to foreign lands, they brought a portion of their home fire with them as a link to their homeland.  Similarly, women leaving their family at the time of their marriage brought part of the fire from their mothers' hearth to their new home.   The flame and shrine to Vesta were integral parts of a happy married home.  The Romans built a temple dedicated to Vesta which had her eternal fire at its center, believed to ensure the safety of the Roman Empire.  Six of the most beautiful and noble maidens were chosen as divine servants, i.e. the vestal virgins, to tend the sacred flame.  This service began at age six.  They took vows of chastity and celibacy which were in force for the duration of their 30 year service.  Upon its completion, they were allowed to leave and marry, though apparently not many did.  If a priestess allowed the fire to go out, she was severely whipped.  Anyone who broke the primary vow of chastity was not only whipped but entombed alive in a subterranean crypt.  Due to the strictness of their vows and limited lifestyle, they earned tremendous respect and enjoyed many privileges in Rome.  Unlike other women, they were free from paternal control and could own their own property.  In return for their righteous service, they were given great reverence, respect, and honor. In spite of the strict enforcement by the Romans of the vow of chastity, Vesta's origins in pre-Hellenic Greece were of a much different nature.  Their primary deity was the Great Mother Goddess who was personified by the Moon and represented by the sacred flame, which symbolized the kundalini fire and secret powers of sexual transmutation.  While the women who tended these fires were known as virgins, this was not because they were sexually chaste, but because they were unmarried, thus belonging to no man.  They participated in various rites of a sexual nature and gave themselves to strangers as an act of divine service.  In other words, their raison d'être was not only to keep the home fires burning, but largely associated with ritualistic sex.  Of course the symbolism between fire and passion is far from subtle as well.  Needless to say, in today's world these women would not be associated with virgins in any way. Astrological Implications Astrologically, Vesta contains elements of both Virgo and Scorpio.  Virgo is represented by Vesta, the virgin, and Scorpio is associated with sex and passion.  In the ancient Assyrian and Babylonian cultures, these two constellations of the Zodiac were connected and represented by a serpent.  As the cultural norm became patriarchal, Libra was placed between them in the portion known as "the Chelae," or claws of the scorpion.   If you think about that, there's some serious irony there, that this region became Libra, representing relationships and marriage.   Somehow I feel as if Peg and Al Bundy could relate.  As a combination of Virgo and Scorpio, Vesta is a prognosticator of devotion on one hand and fanaticism on the other.  She is also an indicator of attitudes associated with sex, particularly those at a visceral and subconscious level that are not confined within the bounds of a traditional or monogamous relationship.  This is the realm of sexual fantasies and desires that are far outside the bounds of polite society.  Subconsciously, these desires are not seen as promiscuous, per se, but rather as a ritualistic act of service.  Social norms, however, can instill a strong sense of guilt in spite of the inner drive a Vesta-type individual possesses to engage in numerous sexual exploits.  In negative aspects, Vesta can influence the opposite behavior as well, such as sexual repression, fears, or the inability to share oneself with others or maintain close relationships.  Similar challenges at expressing these energies could result if she's retrograde. The ability to concentrate on a specific task or goal is also influenced by Vesta's placement.  In fact, the Latin word for hearth is focus.  This ties in closely with the Virgo work ethic and meticulous approach to problems of any sort. In today's work Virgo would probably use preventive maintenance software to handle day to day maintenance in a factory or warehouse. Maintenance software makes automating daily work simple. Vesta can convert sexual energy to a solid commitment and dedication to one's work and often operates in this fashion in those who dedicate themselves to spiritual or service-oriented quests, such as certain religious orders.  Similar energy conversions are also in effect in the pursuit of enlightenment.  In a less dramatic fashion, Vesta also influences the path one should take to fulfill their dharma, or life's mission, without which they can become frustrated and unfulfilled. In synastry, or astrological compatibility, aspects between Vesta's placement in the natal charts of the individuals involved  with either the placement of their partner's Vesta or other planets indicates the nature of their sexual relationship, attraction, and what their expectations or deepest desires regarding an intimate relationship may entail.  For example, contact with planets like Venus or Marswill intensify sexual attraction while contact with planets such as Saturn can cause excessive reserve or even coldness. In other words, Vesta's meaning in astrology is every bit as complex as her roles were in different cultures, all of which reflect the power the life giving forces of sexual transmutation have in each of our lives.