PASSION FOR TINION (WIP Novel 120,000 words)
© Cupideros, October 21, 2006
CHAPTER 37: TEARS OF THE ROSE
© Cupideros, Wednesday, May 13, 2009
“TelGara-Waif, Your Juliet,” TelGara thought back to her signing off message to RaydGalil. Even with all her hard military training, romanticism held her in its vise unrelentingly. I wonder if he watches Speculative Religion Live! Holo “Kitty” Gram show? Did he laugh at her crazy antics? Did he sympathize how women’s reputation tarnishes if they accept their sexuality? Was he cured of his one-hand sticky donut routine, after receiving her Moksha Slap? She wore plain blue slacks and blue hoodie. Better to keep the QSA institution, Army institution and the Order of the Golden Rose institution separated.
TelGara sat in a sterile white-walled mid-sized college classroom. Only instead of individual chair-desk, large tables sitting two apiece sprawled the floor landscape. White eco-long life bulbs burned bright. This could be an operating room, TelGara thought. Pristine. Immaculate. Something you want to do here requiring special care and utmost privacy or security. Alone in the room, she waited.
TelGara grew nervous waiting. Isofira already belonged to the military wing. Tough Isofira. Quietness fled when she heard the white door open. Confident, sure-footed, her hair black, tucked behind both ears lay on the entering woman’s shoulders. She flashed a smile, not a shallow one but deep one. Her smile said Glad you embarked on this adventure, young lady. She wore no lipstick, a hint of mascara. Simplicity described her to the core. Her dark blue pants matched her three-quarter-sleeve blouse with its shirt collar turned up. The light blue five-inch belt designated her femininity and shapely sandglass shape. Her skin color matched the beige of the sand. Stealth. Stealth. Stealth. How did the OGR do it TelGara puzzled? Imbue everything with stealth. She carried a large tattered, pink book, full of lined paper. She never lost eye contact TelGara noticed. “Glad to begin your political training, TelGara?”
“Yes. I’ve two days off from the base.” TelGara forced a smile. She wasn’t having second thoughts, but that was implied in the woman’s opening statement.
“Good.” Without sitting down, she continued, “The Order of the Golden Rose is an off-shoot of the Flying Doves Program. I’m sure you are aware of it.” She slid the large pink book over to TelGara. “Inside this you will read the pertinent historical events which brought about the separation between our groups.”
TelGara opened the book and noticed how worn the pages were. “Can I have a clean copy or new copy?”
The blue pants and blouse woman nodded cautiously.
“I don’t want to pick up anyone else’s vibes when I’m reading emotional matters.”
“Excellent assumption. The OGR is emotional because women and girls’ issues are emotional. She turned around and walked toward the door, five steps, before turning to face TelGara and saying, “Be right back.”
TelGara examined her surrounding. Her army training told her always examine your surroundings as soon as possible. She noticed a door, decorated with a tiny rose, behind to her left. The blue pants and blouse collar woman, with her blue belt returned and was halfway to the table. “Gosh. You’re so quiet,” TelGara said.
“You will learn stealth, quietness too.” The woman looked at her sternly, but her friendly eyes smile as well. “New copy. Not an unusual requests. We prepare for contingent circumstances in the OGR. Began with the first case you encounter. Should you need it,” the simple elegant woman raised her eyes behind, TelGara. “The Tears of the Rose room is there.”
“Tears of the Rose?”
“Those in the military wing weave no illusions about the OGR and what we do. They have encounter hierarchy and male hate first hand. They have lived the Tears of the Rose. Maybe incest or rape. Perhaps, sexual harassment or even beatings from a husband or boyfriend. They’ve cried already. Women, I’m including girls when I say women—for we women live messier lives than men, Women who join the political wing of OGR are like ships that have never sailed the rough high seas of maleness.” The woman looked upward a bit, breaking her unwavering eye contact with TelGara. Having found the words, she resumed her unrelenting stare. “These writings, in the pink book, will put you on the same footing as the military wing women. While the military women OGR-M are physically fierce, you of the OGR-P will become mentally fierce by forcing you to face women’s truth, women’s reality about life. For men and women, do not stride in the same reality. “ She pushed the book closer to TelGara, but enough words. Read.” The older woman nodded to the room, “It’s there if you need it.” She turned and walked out.
TelGara read the cover. “Truth is not something you run away from. Truth is something you embrace even if it spears you in the heart.” TelGara open the large fifteen inches wide, eleven inches high book and begin reading the first document:
WHO ARE THE FLYING DOVES?
The Flying Doves (FD) begin some four hundred years ago. Quodarian success in the consolidation wars meant bringing in differing peoples. These people held beliefs at odds with the far-ranging social goals of QSA. Assimilation, reeducation became a priority. Some conquered societies believed women to be sex slaves, to put it mildly. Other believed women were statute Mothers. As integration, assimilation and reeducation proceeded, women noticed duplicity in the ranks. This meant, new people, and many times our own original Quodarians said one thing but in practice did another, especially when it came to women’s rights and safety issues.
Quodarian women launched the Flying Doves to counter this duplicity. Flying Doves membership supplied rules of feminine behavior or female protecting females behavior. Education balanced the rewards of membership, power, and admittance to the higher fields in every industry. Women joined eagerly and still do. Whenever the Flying Doves encountered a problem or a non-Flying Dove (we are a female only group) female experienced problems, Fly Doves as an organization went into action. For example, if a woman says she was rape on a street, or attacked and robbed or sexually harassed, the Flying Doves went into a beehive of actions. Women lawyers, bankers, police, QSA, politicians swarmed the street for a week seeking first to educate that community on their ill behavior. This intense focus formed a vortex of sorts and cause women not in the Flying Doves to join. Hence, even more political pressure fell on that street of ill repute. The men (men will be including boys from now on) felt the pressure. Some fought back. Some quietly resisted. Some justified their behavior. In more cases, than not, the ill reputed street began to change into the values Quodarians aspire to.
But not all came around to our views, but the FD was patient and believed as the Last Prophet said, “Be like water and wear away your stone-enemy.” In order to quality check our results, for men say they learned the lesson and their street would again be reported, the FDs launched a “Walk-the-Streets Campaign.” As with all things Quodarian, it went to the heart-of-the-matter. Two fifteen years olds in tight blouses and short skirts, not mini-skirts, but short enough to cause the true male to emerge, would walk the ill-reputed street at night. These girls reported what was said to them, if any, for some streets reformed themselves and their own communities made men act mature. If those two girls experienced an attack, sexual harassment, violent or crude language and the OGR-Walk Committee determined this, the street would come again under intense FDs education. If the QSA could solve the problem, they would have. They did not. If the military could solve the problem, they would have. So if you belong in any of these or other organizations and puzzled why, FDs took upon themselves to solve the problem that is why?
Many women wanted stronger direct physical action. However, in the end, this action sufficed for four hundred years until the Rape 0 case, fifteen-years-ago.
THE CASE OF RAPE 0. THE BEGINNINGS OF THE OGR.
About fifteen years ago, a man whom the OGR calls Rape 0 worked in his bar. He and his buddies belonged to an ill-reputed street. This street refused reform. So two fifteen-year-old girls Walked Their Street in their tight blouses and short skirts. The girls encountered no difficulties until they crossed the bar’s path, where the owner, a suspected SILTH infiltrator (more on this later), engaged the girls in violent, crude sexual language. The girls having been trained on handling these situations, through simulation with women of all sizes from all backgrounds, dressed in male dress in our gym facilities, responded as instructed. They said little. Often these situations went from normal “What’s your name baby?” to “Do you want to fuck, sweet heart.” So the girls respond nicely and reply in the negative, “We are just out for a stroll. Women can stroll the streets at night like any man can.” This is the heart-of-the-matter. Do not be confused. If men can walks the streets at night, after dark, even at 3 a.m. in the morning safely, so too should women be able to walk safely the streets at night, after dark, even at 3 a.m. in the morning.
One of these two girls, Helen Vesuvius, who has since changed her name to Ertiixia Vesuvius, later married the QSA Keystip Iselgh. As is the custom every even number marriage in the family line gives the female last name to their spouse and children. Every odd number marriage in the family line gives the male last name to their spouse and children. If conflict arises, arbitration takes place to decide the descending of the last name. Even number marriage in her family line so Helen married Keystip and he and their daughter, Heather, received the last name Vesuvius. Helen was the raped victim in the Rape 0 Case.
On October 27 as Helen and the other girl walked the street that night, they used all their skill to avoid any violence. But Rape 0 pursued them and three men violently forced themselves on Helen, while each guy took turns stopping the other girl from fleeing and telling or screaming for help. When it was all over, Rape 0, the ringleader threatened them. Any threat against the Walkers-of-the-Streets’ Girls of the FDs is an attack on the FDs personally. Intense FDs activity began again and the community installed street cameras. Helen recovered and the both girls received counseling.
For the first time, someone suggests martial arts training for the girls. This person shall remain anonymous. Helen and the other girls as well as all the Walk-The-Streets Girls received free martial arts training. This training is probably not free, but paid for by some generous FD member who wants to remain anonymous. After the Helen Rape, which FDs renamed this case the Rape 0 Case because a more aggressive stance was being taken by the FDs. FDs did not want to glorify victimhood. But the next day after the Rape 0 Case occurred a rumor surfaced, Three Gian Assassins flew in to balance out the matter on the ill-reported street.
On October 30, day before Halloween, three figures wearing blood-red robes with hoods drawn over their heads walked the same street, at the same time, by the same bar. Rape 0 and his buddies came out and threatened to beat them up and kill them. He had a gun. His two buddies had knives. Street cameras caught the entire fight on film. Three persons in blood-red robes were attacked and threaten by Rape 0 and his buddies. The three robed persons easily beat the three male thugs and caused great injuries to them. No one ever found out those three robed persons' identity. However, Rape 0 took FDs to court saying they hired the three Gian Assassins as the robed persons became famously named.
On October 31, Halloween, all women, FDs and non-FDs dressed up in blood-red robes and paraded for candy throughout Quodarian society. Embarrassed and humiliated, Rape 0 astonished the FDs, by accusing young Jaine, now head of QSA, to be one of the three assassins! Jaine and her parents hired the best lawyers. Because Jaine, a well known in martial arts, having won a couple InterGalactic Martial Arts Contest, she was an easy target.
At the trial, Jaine’s lawyers brought in two other girls one slightly taller and one the same size to stand in courtroom’s dimmed lighting to see if Rape 0 could pick out Jaine. In three separate attempt, with the deep red robe hoods and the girls switching their order each time, Rape 0 told to stand and look at the wall away from the trio, then turn back and pick out Jaine. He could not pick out Jaine. Thus, the case was dismissed, but not before Jaine, accused Rape 0 of working for SILTH.
SILTH initiated campaigns of rape to scare the competing population each time before and after defeating one of the countries on the west side of Tinion. SILTH’s only other competitor for the planet is Quodarians. So naturally, it is plausible, Rape 0 was working with SILTH. When the trial ended, Rape 0 was convicted of attacking the three robed persons (it was on camera), because he accused Jaine of being one of them, and political maneuvering suggested he was a SILTH agent. Rape 0 went to Quodarian Maximum Prison on the far east coast for one year. He didn’t survive. He was raped to death by male prisoners one day after boasting he beat up Jaine.
This background launched the OGR. FDs members advocating a more physical response broke away from the FDs and establish The Order of The Golden Rose. OGR immediately realized it could not do without the political wing, so strongly established by the FDs, but the military wing must be established immediately. Over time, OGR developed its own political wing. OGR-P required a mental adjustment to avoid the naïve of the FDs. Hence, all members of the OGR-P undergo special awareness training of how things work politically and socially.
No one ever found out who the Three Gian Assassins were. The ill-reported street behaves cordially to all women 24 hours a day. Even with Skippy’s bar, a suspected SILTH operation on it, the street has demonstrated no problems since.
It is not enough to know women get raped, assaulted, incested, beaten by their spouses or boyfriends, dear new OGR-P member. All women down through the centuries have known this but what has changed? In Galan, the same nonsense goes on. Do not Galan women know about these crimes against women? Why then has change not been done? Why do men continue to do violence to women?
END OF FIRST SECTION.
TelGara felt lifeless and defeated. It was true, women’s lives are no different after 10,000 years. What is it about us women that allow the world to treat us so? Why do we feel men will protect us? Don’t we have enough scientific facts, men are not, will not, and have not protected us? What can be done about this?
TelGara began the next section:
THE POLITICAL AND SOCIAL CONDITIONS OF VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN
Perhaps our new members asked several questions: What can be done about this? ? Don’t we have enough scientific facts, men are not, will not, and have not protected us? Why do we feel men will protect us? What is it about us women that allow the world to treat us so? Women’s lives are no different after 10,000 years!
We at the OGR-Political asked these same questions. No need in recreating the wheel, once a good wheel has been fashion. But no good wheel has been fashioned by women for women about violence against women, not even in 10,000 years! This document creates that wheel of political-mental change.
Know Thyself said some man long ago. Why should we listen to men? How have they helped women know thyself? Men’s self interest lies with men. I’ll show you by this by the end of this document.
What women need to do is know themselves to ask themselves just who in the fuck do they think they are! Why do they think men care one shit about them? Men believe in hierarchy. Hierarchy today, tomorrow, yesterday, when they get the first chance, it is hierarchy1 Hierarchy that outward pushing extension expression of the male soul could not care less about women. Sure the token women are brought in, tricked, yes tricked into believing they are contributing to women. But if you brought all those so called, exceptional women back into their old skin 10,000 years in the future on Tinon and say: Look what you contributed to women. Those notable women, whether they were queens, politicians, military generals, scientist, artist would be shocked. They have not done shit, nada, and zero. For a time, these women seemed to be doing something, gaining something, but in the end, the illusion of female hierarchy remained a myth!
Yes I said female hierarchy. Female Hierarchy is the only cure for the sickening uteri fungus all us women have deep within us—to the core. We women would rather have a male boot on our neck, than a female boot. But men, would scramble under a male boot, be it Hitler or any other, so-call country founder hero abuser. Men fall faster under the male boot, than the female high-heel.
Women want so badly to love men, they will tie a man’s boot laces and lift up his brutal feet and place it on their neck. Women will and have been doing this since the birth of the boy baby. Boy babies get more time, attention, even food and water in some cases in some societies over the years. Yes. Check out your quiet sneaky hierarchical history of your country. Feed the boy more. Make him stronger. Teach him more. Why don’t women feed girls more? Make her stronger. Teach her more. Because the Abyss makes women sycophant for our uteri fungi. Only one male has dared to tell women the truth. The Last Prophet CE in his 3,500 sayings said:
The making of babies never was, never will be full femininity.
But the Abyss Mother makes women and girls think this is so.
From the 3,500 sayings of the Last Prophet CE
For 10,000 years women have read this and smiled and nodded maternally, think the Last Prophet CE did them a favor. He did not!
He is saying women—wake up to Hierarchy! Do Hierarchy! But we women are burping our babies in both ears. We will do anything to support a male. Women don’t want to rule, although we are probably the better at ruling, as Queen XI’I life demonstrated. Women don’t want responsibility. If they did, they go out, make something, and pass it on to a woman! If they did, they make something and teach that to a woman!
What women want is cozy place in the Mother’s womb. Women want a place where they do not have to grow up as a class of people. You will always hear women saying down through the centuries, ‘Oh but we women want different things. So many different things we can’t agree on anything at all.’
Give me a break. Men fight all these wars because they want different things! You don’t see them saying, we can’t have a male hierarchy because we men will never agree to wanting the same things. Isn’t it amazing a woman can want the same thing as a male and the males want different things? Logically a woman should say I cannot follow the male because he wants too many different things from other males!
So you’ve joined the OGR! Really. Hmmm! I’m skeptical. This is what happened to you young OGR-P member. One day, you experience a sense of lost. That drifting feeling of not knowing what to do with your pathetic life. Why did you feel this way? Well, you could always have a baby, but that seemed mighty easy for you to do. Guess what, young OGR-P member. It is mighty easy for you to lay back, be fucked and have a baby. Then you’ll spend your life in endless busy activity believing you are helping women, men, the society and the world. After eighteen years, you’ll wake up and feel lost again.
This is what happened to you young OGR-P member. No one told you “Do this.” No one said, “You’ve got to contribute to the gang of us women. You got to learn to stick together and go in the way of women’s rights. You got to stand up with women, for women now. You’ve got to read women’s books, watch women’s film, listen to women’s music, study women scientist. Find out what women are suppose to do in this world—BESIDES GETTING FUCKED UP YOUR CUNT—and decide how women are suppose to contribute helping women and by that process helping men.
This is what happened to you young OGR-P member. No one told you women first. Then saw some strange women, putting women first running around in blood-red robes. At first, you discarded it as a mirage, a joke on your female sex. A Halloween stunt gone on too long. However, you realized something must be up. Something new. Being a young person and adventurous, unless that spirit hasn’t been beaten out of you by the time you got your period, unless you haven’t become baffled as to why you have a period and tell yourself you can’t do anything in life, unless you sit around waiting for your next period and counting the fucking days till it is over and till it comes again, unless you sit around gobbling up birth control pills every day convincing yourself, I might as well get pregnant. Gee I’m overdosing on all these birth control pills. Unless all these female woolgathering ideas haven’t frozen you stiff to arctic ice, you thought maybe woman adventure in the OGR-P. But you made one fucking mistake young potential OGR-P member. Membership in the OGR cost something. You’re not just an OGR member because you have Uteri and a sopping cunt! The cost is knowing thyself. Facing the truth--You don’t give a shit about your own body because you don’t give a shit about your own self, because you don’t give a shit about your own gender, because you hate women so you can have those babies!
This is what happen to you young OGR-P member. You met a boy and decided to save him. In the course of this great romantic-novel-reading expedition, you encountered women doing hierarchy things. Surprised, you decided wow look at the benefits of wanting to be in love. Stop! Your first mistake. The OGR did not start so you can become a one-hand sticky donut! OGR did not start because they wanted to play matchmaker for you! OGR did not come into existence to throw you into the arms of a male. The OGR is trying to keep you out of the arms of some hierarchy male!
So you want to get fucked, and so badly, you decided to join the OGR. Why didn’t you join the military wing OGR-M? You know why? You’re afraid you might meet the average hierarchy male out there who wants to rape your ass over and over and toss you into a waste can. Yes. If you really wanted to help the OGR, you’d get into the thick of the battle. But you chickened out. Well, the OGR-P has a surprise for you: Politics is the nastiest, sneakiest battle of hierarchy you’ll ever experience. You might wake up like the old FDs and say, damn--We’ve been fucked against our will!
Yes. Men betray women. You cannot be accepted into the male community, cannot be a card-carrying male unless you betray women for male hierarchy! If you were a male, young OGR member, you’d have to betray your sister, mother, nieces, and even your daughter/s. That is the price men pay to be accepted in the male hierarchy hate club.
But what price do women pay to be in the women hierarchy hate club? None. It doesn’t exist. Free admittance if you have Uteri gets you into the male hierarchy hate club though. You can hate women all day. Every hour. Decade after decade. Didn’t know you already joined the hate women club, called male hierarchy?
Women find it scary going against men. Yes. We at the OGR admit this fear deep in our bones, past our uteri, and our gaping ever hungry cunts wanting so badly to be filled in the How to Teach Men to Make Soup way. What do we get? We have our cunts drilled as if it is a concrete slab. Our bodies gyrated like it a vending machine that took his money. Our organs rattled like a bomb hitting Mother earth. All so we can take some seed and give back to our oppressors another little male oppressor. Because women don’t want girl babies. Men don’t want girl babies. Everyone wants male babies. Like male babies are somehow more sturdy and able to survive and thrive.
Male babies survival rates different from girls in one respect: no one treats girls with respect and expect her to contribute to her own gender. Everyone expect the girl to accept being lorded over by males and men. Everyone (for those linguistically challenged, everyone includes women) expect the girl to serve. Listen and serve. Fuck and serve. Give to the great Daddylands of the universe. Even here on Tinon, we Quodarian women fight again and again to establish we women will be free!
But we women at the OGR woke up one day. When we realized that even if a woman tries to protect a woman, men will blame another woman for her offering that protection to her female Hierarchy. Yes! Women can’t win. Because women don’t understand, everyone, no matter how sweet, and socially mobile and upstanding and politically modern and fresh—everyone wants women as a gender to lose, to suffer, to serve. And sex violence is just an outward manifestation of that collective male and female thought. We women want violence done to us because it makes us feel feminine and vulnerable and we can run back to our romance novels, and baby making, baby-raising books and feel complete.
END OF ORIENTATION DOCUMENTS THE ORDER OF THE GOLDEN ROSE POLITICAL WING
TelGara felt shaking hands before she realized she owned those hands. She closed the book. So forcefully had she gripped the new book, it look somewhat like those used copies. Perhaps, the copy she first received had only one reader!
TelGara didn’t know what to do. She felt like running into the Tears of the Rose room and crying but she stopped herself. A Quodarian woman doesn’t cry she reminded herself. However, she didn’t know who said that, a man who was trying to get her emotionally to cut her off from being raped and abused or a woman who was saying be strong. She hated herself for being such a fool. A naive fool. How could I walk around all these years like an idiot in a romance novel? I am alive not in a novel. Why am I risking my life for RaydGalil, a guy? I’m in QSA, now the army, and now the OGR? What the fuck am I thinking? I’m not saving RaydGalil anymore. He can save himself. Only if he truly proves he supports women would I even consider saving him now!
TelGara tried hard. She tried. She cried and ran to the door behind her and on its middle saw the rose crying one blood tear from two separate leafs. She might have ripped the door off its hinges getting into the room in the back with no windows or doors—she didn’t know or even care. There she cried for a long long time.
End Chapter 37
Truth is not something you run away from.
Truth is something you embrace even
if it spears you in the heart.
--ORIENTATION MATERIAL FOR
THE ORDER OF THE GOLDEN ROSE POLITICAL WING
