Amazons International # 75 Contents: Diana Morgan: Bio & My Amazon Philosophy Diana Morgan: Women Warriors and Patriarchy Diana Morgan: Subway Amazon (erotic story) Date of publication: 26.07.2000 ********************************************************************* This issue of AI introduces you to the fertile thought and imagination of 'Diana Morgan', a passionate, outspoken and versatile thinker and practitioner of the Amazon ways. Here are lots of material for thought, discussion and enjoyment. One of the most well-known mottoes of Xena seems particularly applicable to Diana: "I have many skills." -- Editor ********************************************************************* Date: June/July 2000 From: dianahuntress_mail@yahoo.com Subject: Bio & My Amazon Philosophy Fellow Amazons/Amazon admirers, I'm happy to finally be a participator in this great newsletter. I've read quite a few back issues of AI and enjoyed reading everyone's thoughts, and it's good to be finally contributing something and giving back. I discovered it on the Amazon Connection a couple of months ago (my favorite site) and have been reading it ever since. I'm 26 years old and a radical feminist, though I prefer the term Amazon (much cooler sounding). I've always been more interested in power, freedom and developing my own spirit than the silly, degrading, and often humiliating things that girls and young women are "encouraged" to think about and desire. I love nature, animals, and the outdoors, so I do a lot of outdoor activities like biking, hiking, climbing trees, exploring creeks and generally just playing around in nature. I would like to try fly fishing and archery sometime, too. :) I was raised in a pretty large Catholic family and I experienced first hand what it means to be raised as a slave woman -- and I don't think that's too strong a word. Fortunately, I was able to see the many flaws in the conservative propaganda that was forced on me when I was younger and I finally escaped. :) For as long as I can remember the thing I've most wanted to be is a great fighter. Being an Amazon is a personal quest for me that has mostly to do with physical strength and courage. But also to do with mental and spiritual strength, and perhaps solidarity with other proud and powerful Amazons. To me physical power is inseparable from the word Amazon. I think that at one time women had great physical power, and that we can achieve it again given the will and desire. What an Amazon's body looks like doesn't mean anything to me as long as she's capable of physical victory. I agree with Ingar Knudtsen in AI # 63 that Amazon qualities have little to do with measuring muscles as in bodybuilding, though I would argue that they have a lot to do with physical strength. I think that bodybuilding isn't really as much about strength as it is about looks. I've never heard of a great street fighter or any kind of warrior who was especially interested in measuring their glutes, quads etc. Some Amazon muscles do look great, but I think they should come from the natural activity of their possessor, and not from a focus on looks. Such as working hard or training at a martial art or some other useful activity, rather than from thinking a lot about one's own appearance. Bodybuilding on its own is kind of an unhealthy thing, I think, and not much different on a spiritual level than women who spend a huge amount of time on makeup, clothes etc. I love muscles that come naturally, though! Then they are a reflection of a person's real strength. So in my opinion the core definition for the term Amazon is to be able to defeat another person in a physical confrontation. To have a powerful mind, body, and spirit, and to have a heart filled with pride and a great love of freedom. In other words to be a true warrior. And part of this is to be able to act with courage, to be what makes you proud even when you're alone and there is no one else to see you. To have the fearlessness to see who you really are, and the will, and power to become what you want to be. That's my personal Amazon philosophy. I would like to thank Thomas for having me here before I end this little bio, and all of the AI contributors that I've enjoyed reading in other issues -- and hope to read more of in the future! Diana Morgan dianahuntress_mail@yahoo.com ********************************************************************* Date: June/July 2000 From: dianahuntress_mail@yahoo.com Subject: Women Warrior Types and Patriarchy There are really only two types of powerful women warriors portrayed in patriarchal myth (when they're portrayed at all, which isn't often). I call these basic types the Virgin vs. the Evil Bitch. The powerful woman who is self-willed, has her own desires, enjoys life, and doesn't always do what men or their gods want her to -- (the Evil Bitch) -- and the powerful woman who is self-sacrificing and humble, fights for patriarchal institutions, NEVER has sex and is eventually burned at the stake by her own people, e.g., Joan of Arc (The Virgin). Queen Maeve is a perfect example of the 'Evil Bitch' archetype. I don't know if you're familiar with her, but if not, she was a Celtic war queen who led a great army, had many husbands, fought a war over a white cow that she wanted, and was known to stop battles because she was menstruating. She was described, by an enemy, as being "tall and terrifying of aspect with masses of red, gold hair and a gold necklace that wound around her neck like a snake". And that her army regarded her with 'fear' (more likely respect). It was said that she could take forty men a night and she would often boast about her sexual prowess. Her name means 'Drunk Woman' or 'Queen Wolf' and is pronounced "Meeve". Anyway, Maeve wasn't described as being anymore evil or destructive than any of the other Celtic figures and yet all modern representations of her portray her as evil. I once got a Celtic fairy tale from the library that featured her as the main character and I thought, "Great! A good book about my favorite war queen!" But the book portrayed her as completely evil and she was eventually defeated by two children! Since then I've seen a couple of movies that had a version of her and they were both badly done Evil Bitch cliches. Contrast this with Joan of Arc, who, out of all the woman warriors in history, was the least powerful and most manipulated by the people around her, to my thought. I've heard it said that although she was wounded in battle, she never even actually fought in the wars she led, but just carried the damned flag (perhaps this is propaganda though). She was fighting for a religion and country that had total contempt for women and eventually turned her over to be burned at the stake. And of course she was a humble, pure virgin who was very self-sacrificing. There has been more movies made about her than any other saint. And when people mention woman warriors in any kind of mainstream media, hers is the name they inevitably bring up. The perfect "Virgin". Queen Maeve could kick her ass, I'm sure. Amazons weren't especially gentle, fair minded people after all. They were rather bloodthirsty and aggressive and dominating by all accounts. I really like that. Morally reprehensible maybe, but exciting, too, you know? How would the perfect Amazon Nation be run in your mind? What do you imagine when you think of Amazons and do you think you would like to step back in time and live with them for a while? It's a romantic notion, isn't it? Ever heard of Lozen? She was an Apache warrior who fought with Geronimo in the 1800's and was known as being a great warrior and medicine woman. I read in a book called _Apache Women Warriors_ by Kimberly Buchanan that Apaches didn't talk about her to whites because they thought their attitude would be scornful to her and they didn't want to disrespect her. There are people who are enraged by the idea of women and men freeing themselves from gender roles, and who actually sit around and plot ways to sabotage our efforts. I know because I've met some of them. And certainly, there are many zealous Republican types that dedicate a good deal of time and effort to this cause. Ever noticed how much gay people enrage Christians more than almost anything, including murder? I believe this is because one of the main purposes of Christianity (and religions like it) is to enforce male power and gender stereotypes. And the gay movement challenges gender roles in a lot of ways and provides people with visible alternatives to the male ruler/female slave way of life. (I also think that some people choose homosexuality as a way to escape gender roles.) There has been a lot of violence against gay people here in the US and elsewhere, and against other people who go against the conservative type of lifestyle. I think this is an expression of the real and serious desire some people have to defend patriarchal institutions and keep women as slaves in any way they can. The world has improved, though! People are definitely more open to new ways of viewing the world, new ways of being, and more powerful images of women. And there is always beauty in the world anyway, no matter what is going on. I hate this whole sexual "women must be conquered" thing and that you are supposed to have to be chaste to be a warrior. That's the thing about Joan of Arc. I dislike the way that when a woman warrior is mentioned, they always try to emphasize that she was self-sacrificing and somehow not a "true woman". Just someone who was extraordinary, even almost freakish, and surely she must have denied her "true nature" to become great. Like even with Lozen they sort of emphasize that. I don't think virginal women are especially powerful and I don't view sex as "penetration" either. I like to think of it more as the woman "swallowing" the man. My pussy isn't a pussy at all. It's a fucking wolf, baby. ;) Thomas has said AI doesn't often get erotic stories from women (I have some theories about that as well!). Anyway, below is one from me to break the trend. ********************************************************************* Date: June/July 2000 From: dianahuntress_mail@yahoo.com Subject: Erotic Story: Subway Amazon Jason was surrounded by people as usual. In fact, if you summed him up it would be safe to say that he was a "people person." Some of it due to the fact that he consistently placed high or best at the top motorbike cross country races in the world. He loved the feel of a powerful bike and the exhilaration of a dangerous sport. Not to say that he was a fearless person. Living in New York City could rattle anybody's nerves. Traveling every day on the subway to the lower east side was not his favorite activity. Still he knew he would never move. His life was here. The smell of home, the taste of it. There was nothing like it. Plus his family and friends were still here. The people who stuck by him through all the bullshit over the years. He'd never abandon them for some yuppie lifestyle that he didn't really want anyway. For some reason he felt especially on edge tonight. He'd left his friends behind at his own victory celebration, opting instead to ride the train alone -- he needed some time to wind down. The last leg of his big race had left. as they say, 'a bit of dirt in his teeth.' A hard win but a good one. A few more stops now and he'd be home and with any luck sleeping off the party. The train seemed to go extra slow tonight. He'd been watching these four guys down the aisle harassing a woman for the last three stops now. He thought he heard one especially ugly fuck say something like 'I could just take you bitch right now.' Or something to that effect. Jesus, he hoped that nothing went down here. He'd been in a few fights in his time, but he wasn't about to take on four huge fuckers like that. And he didn't relish the thought of being stuck alone in a train while these guys raped and maybe killed this woman. They seemed to get more threatening by the minute. He took another look at the woman. Strange that she didn't look at all frightened. She was a big woman, tall, and athletic perhaps. Even under the street clothes she was wearing he could detect the hard body of an athlete. He suspected she didn't get her body from aerobics class. She looked powerful and relaxed even with the four aggressive goons in her face and her eyes had the rather hard look of someone who has been around and come out on top. He'd only ever seen that look on men before. And perhaps tough mothers who had fought their way out of the worst situations and become feared and respected leaders. She looked like that -- a leader. She was beautiful in a rugged sort of way and had a scar running just beneath her cheekbone. Somehow that just made her seem more beautiful to him. She seemed to feel his eyes on her and glanced his way and he got a glimpse of dark eyes just as one of the thugs said in a loud angry voice, "I'm going to take you bitch. You're going to feel it like you've never felt anything." And then he grabbed her arm. She stood up so fast he could hardly catch the movement and with one motion grabbed his arm, maneuvered around to his back, raised a leg and pushed on his ass still holding tightly to his arm. The scream the man let out reminded Jason of a sound he'd heard an injured cat make once. Maybe the cat sounded a little healthier though. She whipped around grabbing the second guy's right hand, slamming it against the pole, thereby disarming him of the knife he was holding. She promptly stabbed the third man with it, leaving him bleeding and backing away holding his stomach. He looked shocked, yelping and spitting out words that could have peeled the skin off a navy seal. Number four thought better of it and wisely took a few steps back. "If there's going to be any raping around here it's going to be by me." Her voice was rich, commanding -- and cold. Real cold, and angry too, in a white-heat deliberate way. He felt the train lurch to a halt and the four men wasted no time hauling their hides out of the car. Jesus Christ! Jason had never seen anything like it! He'd sure as hell never been in a situation remotely like this. He suddenly realized she was looking at him. He must have looked stupid, just standing there with his mouth wide open, his jaws almost skidding the floor. He closed it. She was watching him as calmly as if nothing had happened except for a curious glint in her eye. He felt that he should say something, so he sputtered out, "I'm sorry. I should have helped you." She laughed and the corners of her mouth turned up a little. "Do you think you could have?" She looked amused. Actually no, he didn't, so he didn't say anything. She laughed again as if knowing what he was thinking. He was embarrassed to notice that his legs were about to give out, that he was actually and literally trembling with reaction. She took a couple of long strides over to him and steadied him with her hand on his arm. He vaguely noticed that she smelled good, like the outdoors. Her eyes were an odd color, he couldn't decide whether they were blue or gray. Looking into them he couldn't tell what it was about them that made his knees feel even weaker. He was breathing heavily and he didn't seem to be able to take his eyes away from hers. She was taller than him, and she was supporting his full weight now that he allowed himself to be overcome by some powerful emotion. Maybe it was fear, or relief, or excitement -- or something else, something that he couldn't name, maybe something that had no name. As she lowered him onto the train bench, he felt her powerful body adjust with the effort. He had been right, she was athletic. And muscular. He could feel her muscles shift with her movement next to his body, and his dick growing hard in response. She felt it too and looked up at him, a slow smile spreading across her face. Her eyes glittered with an odd intensity in the changing light of the moving train. Instead of lowering him down to a sitting position on the bench as she originally intended, she pushed him somewhat roughly down in a lying position, so that he was looking up at her. He winced slightly as his head hit the cold, dull steel of the curving seat arm. Her hands touched his face in a caressing gesture, like a rough feather. She had calluses on her hands and their roughness sent signals of fire through every pore of his body as she aggressively explored it under his shirt. Impatient with her growing effort to get at his body through his clothes, she lifted him off the bench and pulled his shirt over his head. Christ was she strong! She didn't seem to make much of an effort lifting him. She took off her own shirt too, but instead of removing her pants she used her new knife cutting a hole along her crotch. When she started to unbutton his jeans he suddenly woke up to the fact that he was about to have sex with this woman! On the subway for Christ's sake! What if they reached their stop? What if some people entered the car? What if some officials or the police came? He almost didn't care at that point, but some instinct prompted him to try to get out of this bizarre situation. He pushed hard at her in an attempt to move away from her, but she just laughed that arrogant laugh of hers and pushed back. And it seemed she could push a lot harder than he could. They quickly ended up on the floor wrestling for he wasn't sure what. The motion of them together on the moving floor excited him out of his dreamy state. She quickly overpowered him, and this he found even more exciting. She too was breathing heavily now, and her lips were lifted in a savage snarl. She picked him up in her arms again him and slammed him against the wall. She seemed to hesitate a moment, gaining some measure of composure. She looked him straight in the eye and said, "What do you want here. Say the word and I'll walk away right now." He wanted her. Christ did he ever! He didn't say anything, and she rightly took his silence for consent. She was holding his entire weight, with her hands under his ass. She moved him into position and swallowed his dick with her hole. He wrapped his legs around her body and she moved him up and down inside her with just the strength of her arms. The muscles inside her gripped him tight like nothing he'd ever felt before. It felt like a vise around his cock and the continued up and down motion made the most incredible pain/pleasure he'd ever felt. Helpless at the mercy of the vise squad... She wrapped her arms around him so close and her hands caressed his back and head. His head was buried in her breasts and he kissed and sucked them passionately. She growled something in his ear. It sounded like "You're such a beautiful man," or some such. He was approaching orgasm and their sweating bodies became almost frantic in their mutual drive for release. When it came he felt as if he were catapulting through the stratosphere, a deliverance like nothing he had ever known or imagined. After her own release she gently let him down and gathered her shirt silently. In a dazed, slack way he put his own clothes back on. The train pulled up at her stop and she turned once before leaving and said simply, "Thank you.". She didn't turn back as she left, every line of her body expressing resolution and confidence. Jason rode to his stop alone. He never told anyone about his experience. But the thought of it came to him, especially at great moments of high adrenaline during his races. Followed by the thought, not even this compares to The Woman. The Subway Amazon. ***************************************************************** * Amazons International * * Thomas Gramstad, editor: thomas@ifi.uio.no * * Administravia/Listserver: amazons-request@ifi.uio.no * * Submissions: amazons@math.uio.no * * http://www.ifi.uio.no/~thomas/lists/amazons.html * * * * The Amazon Connection -- Links to Amazon web sites: * * http://www.ifi.uio.no/~thomas/lists/amazon-links.html * ***************************************************************** "A Hard Woman is Good to Find" -- The Valkyries