The Big Trans Woman FAQ (or what you should ideally read before you ask me stupid questions)

Today’s topic is less polyglot, but if you want you can shoot me an email at joannamartinevanschaik(at)gmail(dot)com and help me translate it. The good thing is that I’ll usually be able to tell you whether you screwed up somewhere. The bad news is that it will cost you two hours of your time for a cause we all need to worry about, but none of us are actually on the barricades fighting for enough.

So, here goes: the questions you can now look up the answers to here, without having to harass me about it in public and show off your ignorance!

Läs mer

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This blog: what it is and what it does. And what it does not do.

This is a blog. Everyone has a blog now, even I used to have a blog (way back in the day) but considering I never updated that thing, I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf (electronically speaking). So, you may ask, what am I going to blog about? Because everyone has already written about something, so my particular insights are not going to keep my readership tuned to my every post, waiting with drool dripping from their open jaws to read whatever (dare I say ”very intelligent”? Or is that too much honour?) thing I have come up with to rant about. So the answer is; I’ll just write what is on my mind, and you’re going to read whatever is on my mind here, okay? (You could stop here, but you would be missing out on a life’s worth of amusement. And that’s not just because of the inevitable typos). Läs mer

Publicerat i Non classé | Märkt , , | 2 kommentarer

Vilina Vlas

Back in the land of my ancestors
I can taste the bitterness in every stone
Tell me, what happened here?

The silence was kept
We do not speak of the past
For dead men tell no tales,
and the living would rather not speak ill of the dead…

From the rooms of Vilina Vlas
They jumped to their deaths
Vilified, violated, raped
Sacrificed for sectarian hate

You speak only lies.
We rehabilitated the fallen.
Let those who wish to forget
Relax in the waters of comfort

By the bridges on the Drina
They were herded like sheep
Defiled and shot in cold blood
Thrown over the edge
Swept away in the current
The water still smells of death

Let sleeping dogs lie.
And the heroes of war
Will be welcomed as saviours
Freeing this land of the cursed Moslem faith!

My aunts, my uncles, my grandparents
Fled the carnage, the slaughter
I am what is left of the wreckage
Raised in the midst of torn souls

Come sightseeing in the mansion of the dead!

Let me have the solace I desperately seek
Empathy for the suffering
The candles that stand upright and burn
Only remember the living
The fallen lay face down
Like the dead in mass graves

”Hundreds of flowers for the ones who lost their innocence
Shall forever lie on these sheets”

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The Passerine Lament

Among emerald pine trees
Beyond the thawing glades
I hear the passerine lament
I wipe away the burgeoning creeks

Songbirds chant an ode
To memories of aeons past
A lovely waltz will be heard
Until the sun bursts into crimson flame

When Agamemnon offered Iphigenia
To rescue Helen of Troy
Was marital greed worth the ploy?

Here I stay,
Rooted to the spot
Don’t ask me to remember
What so many of you forgot

Songbirds chant an ode
To tall tales of heroic deeds
In crescendo we bloom away
On dandelion winds of the passerine lament

When Agamemnon offered Iphigenia
To rescue Helen of Troy
Was marital greed worth the ploy?

In crescendo we float away
To the dulcet tones of the passerine lament
Like Moomins on a cloud
We float away to the passerine lament

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An Ambivalent Relationship with Reality

I. The Calm Before The Storm

I want you to panic!

II. House of the Damned

Every time I open the door
I see fear in their eyes

Separated from birth
Mother and child divided

Led across the river Styx
Charon’s tribute paid in blood
Sons and daughters in need
Swallowed whole by human greed

A bolt through the head
Shock waves freeze the nerves

Led across the river Styx
Charon’s tribute paid in blood
Sons and daughters in need
Swallowed whole by human greed

When it comes to the bond
Between the planet, you and me
Humanity subscribes
To an ambivalent relationship with reality

III. Feed the Beast

More
You want more!

Banquets for the depraved
A trillion lives killed
Not a single soul saved

Every time the juices bleed
The machine feeds the Beast

I turn a blind eye
To mass genocide
All for the pleasure
Of this dinner plate

Every time the juices bleed
The machine feeds the Beast

IV. Regret

[instrumental]

V. Seeing Ghosts

I hear their infernal cries
Anguish before my eyes

Every last look I take before I sleep
I let my heart weep
For the souls sent to limbo

I’m seeing ghosts
Here in the seven circles of Hell
To the hissing of noxious gas
I ring their death knell

I am the machine that feeds the Beast
I am the tyrant that subjugates the weak
I am judge, jury and executioner
Sanctioning the pleasure we seek

I’m seeing ghosts
Here in the seven circles of Hell
To the hissing of noxious gas
I ring their death knell

VI. An Ambivalent Relationship With Reality

Every forest we cut
Every land we rape
Every flood we survive
Every hell we create

Every enemy we despise
Every friend we deny
Every soul we disrespect
Every wound we infect

On this one home we call earth
Gaia’s heart beats in overdrive
Led across the river Styx
Charon’s tribute paid in blood

When it comes to the bond
Between the planet, you and me
Humanity succumbs
To an ambivalent relationship with reality

An ambivalent relationship with reality… (repeat, fade out)

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Feestmaal

Samen aten wij gebroederlijk
veganistische nasi goreng
en schiepen met dit feestmaal
een hoopvol precedent.

Wij keken samen naar het bord
vol tempeh en volkorenrijst
en in de absentie van de dode koe
zagen wij dat het goed was.

Wij keken elkaar recht aan
en in onze ogen glom de zon.
De regenboog kwam tevoorschijn
achter ons dubbele glazen raam.

Tevreden gingen wij na de afwas
ieder hun eigen weg naar huis.
Zo vertrouwden wij ten diepste
dat alles toch goed zou komen.

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May Evil Burn

Hands of gold on a potion of greed
Betray the ones whose love you don’t need
We speak to God and he speaks to us
His ancient rites hold sway over a human night

As the flames burn,
so may evil burn

All cower in fear
All pay tribute
We hold true power
Say no more, or we will curse your soul

As the flames burn,
so may evil burn

Cum arde focul, așa să ardă răul
Cum arde focul, așa să ardă răul
Cum arde focul, așa să ardă răul
Cum arde focul, așa să ardă răul!

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All These Statues

I bow my head to all these statues,
of wise people who came before.
I wish there was a glimmer of hope
for the feeble; please, say no more!

I dream still of the end of days,
of what Lennon said about imagination;
a quiet chirp of a flock of birds,
perching on the tree of a great nation.

I see before me the sweet river flow,
the sparkling of the lakes in spring.
I see the eagles soar high above,
taking our desires under their wing.

No man, no woman, no newborn child
would be lost in this vain suffering;
this pain which pervades every vein
and capillary with its venomous sting.

Every sunrise, sunset, and solstice
celebrated together by the maypole;
every mother and father nursing,
their hopes and dreams becoming whole.

I bow my head to all these statues
of unwise men who destroyed before;
the urge of violence took us by hand,
the spur of love will come to the fore.

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The Janus Replication

I. The Janus Replication, Part 1

Every day is an experience
Every story is a new beginning
I wish there was an end to this madness
This Janus replication in my mind
I live with the shadows of the many
Revolving in my head
Sometimes I believe I’m better off dead

II. Song of Sorrow (The Hydra Within)

Every scar is a link to the past
A line in a song of sorrow
That I sing to soothe the coming morrow

As a child, I felt and I saw
I touched the inconceivable
The unthinkable turned real…

The hydra within became my soul

They stole the apple of Eden
From within my body and blood
They split the fruit into four
For every knife stabbed
The hydra head grew three more

The hydra within became my soul

III. Chernobyl

Тридцать пять лет назад
Я счастливо жила;
Тогда все было как надо
Колбаса и сыр на столе
Хлеб и капуста на тарелке
И семья еще дома была…

Взрывы, запахи
Меня тошнит
Шаги и хаос
Голова болит
И где-то далеко орет женский голос…

Внимание, Внимание, Внимание, Уважаемые товарищи! Городской совет народных депутатов сообщает, что в связи с аварией на Чернобыльской атомной электростанции в городе Припяти складывается неблагоприятная радиационная обстановка. Партийными и советскими органами, воинскими частями принимаются необходимые меры. Однако, с целью обеспечения полной безопасности людей, и, в первую очередь, детей, возникает необходимость провести временную эвакуацию жителей города в ближайшие населённые пункты Киевской области.

Теперь я живу,
Без семьи, без друзей
Где-то в Киевском районе
Как ходящий музей…

IV. The Gypsy

The hydra within has become my soul

I am the daughter of nomads
Far away from home
I am the child of travelers
In hardship grown

Every line I sing
To the fiddle’s tune
A lament for the home
I left too soon

I smile and beg
I chant to survive
In this squalor
I barely feel alive

We are the homeless
The destroyed
The ruined all in one
We are the pariahs of the West
The reviled daughters and sons

V. The Janus Replication, Part 2

Every face and every freak
Every hardship and future bleak
Is reflected within me

The Janus replication
Like DNA generation
The hydra within me

Every scar is a link to the past
A line in a song of sorrow
That I sing to soothe the coming morrow

The hydra within will be my soul forever…

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Shark Pool (The Bends)

Somewhere in a deep blue sea
Beneath the rays of refracted light
We swim

Breathing through makeshift gills
Suffering from a case of the bends
We drift

Trapped by bubbles
In a shark pool
They flash their bony teeth
Preying on the bleeding weak
Leave no trace for me

Somewhere in a deep blue sea
Beneath the rays of reflected light
We fight

Breathing heavily against our will
Suffering from antagonist disease
We hold

Fast in the stream
Grey fins encircle us
Pick dry the bones
And cherish sweet meat
Leave no trace for me

We are schools of fish
Caught in a trawler’s net
We’re shark fin soup
In a Chinese bowl

Hunted down for our meat
Revenue on a black screen
Victims of an eminent sleaze
Flushed with a golden gleam

We only count
As numbers in an Excel sheet

Somewhere in a deep blue sea
Beneath the rays of retiring light
We float…

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Orinoco Glow

Toucans on a branch
Call for their kind
Panthers stalk
In the undergrowth

One shot in the dark
And all is gone
Cropped for the sapient
Sleeping on a well of fire

This is a war for territory

Natives recycle
By hack and slash
Rebuilding the dead
In green canopies

One cut in the trunk
And all is gone
Cropped for the greedy
Sleeping on a well of fire

This is a war for territory

Our homes reduced to cinders
Burning with the flames of avarice
We are the ones who shall never return
To grace this tropical paradise

This is a war for territory

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Closer to the Edge

I’m stood at the edge of the lake
My girlfriend is holding my hand
As the meteor lowers its face
And stares right into a scared land

We’re on the brink
On the edge of disappearing
Bordering on death
We raise our hands as

The stakes are getting higher
The sky is getting brighter

I’m stood at the edge of the lake
And I’m about to pass out
My girl asks with her fading grace
”One last time, want to make out?”

We’re on the brink
On the verge of disappearing
Bordering on death
We raise our hands as

The stakes are getting higher
The sky is getting brighter
And on this rock of blinding lights
Our days have turned to nights

Behind us the scene of the rapture
The apocalypse in meteoric shape
We kiss to the tune of screeching deer
Love in the age of a failed escape

The stakes are getting higher
The sky is getting brighter
And on this rock of blinding lights
Our days have turned to nights

And on this rock of blinding lights
Our days have turned to nights…

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