Important: This text was originally written in french and automatilly translated in english. Some translation errors may occur.
13th day and 2nd Sunday of May and it is already, in North America, Mother’s Day, while in the South, it is celebrated last Sunday. I am afraid of being somewhat tautological or that there is too much resemblance between my note of March 8th and this one, since it is the same Being at the heart of these two dates: The woman, the mother, because for me, who says: Woman, says: maternity. What can bring some feminist nudes, feminist feminists especially, I know. The fact is that, quite simply, motherhood is so overused as it is not considered at its true value. I take this opportunity to make you a gift of a neologism that for you I invent: Femmer (woman and mother). I would like to remind you that motherhood, apart from being a gift, a virtue, a distinct and high dimension, even in the case of a childless woman, maternity is part of the race. (s) God (s) / Diese (s) Creator (s) (I can not be a monotheist or a polytheist, not knowing how much God / Goddess is actually there.) if there is only one, I am more likely to believe that it is a Woman, so I began my prayer: << Our Mother who is in heaven, that your name be sanctified … ..). Ah! It brings to my mind an important fact to emphasize to you. Stay well! All the old statuettes representing the human, no matter which country archaeological excavations have allowed to find them, represented women. And that it is the patriarchal macho (the Europeans at the top of the list) who systematically reversed things (first by whitening) because in all prehistory we spoke only of the Mother Goddess. Do not forget the original black virgin, Isis, the Aseta lactance, resumed and bleached by these Euro-descendants and changed to virgin Mary, imposed on the naive (I’m nice, I do not mean, stayed). By the way, congratulations to this Canadian elite, Quebec in particular who, after all, has deprogrammed! Maternity, I said, is a privileged badge given to the woman, conferring on her the right to work in the company of God (s) / Goddess, PASC Section (Procreation-Love-Sacrifice-Courage ). Let me help you to understand a little bit the nobility and the need this function (maternity) poorly apprehended, therefore, underestimated. Follow me: The end of the human species began from the first case of mortality, if the happy, the necessary, the mysterious, the most desirable event had occurred: a case of birth. In any case, it was a real case. I will remind you, by the way, that Africa, in the 1930s, had just over 150 million people. Today, despite all that is fomented, programmed and sent to him, wars, famines, “ebo-high ebo-low ebo-ci ebo-that ebo-la”, the continent will cross the milestone of more than a billion before 2050. Just to say that nothing but maternity, life is one of those forces that the ‘biophages’ (I allow myself this neologism) can not overcome. Thank you ladies! I like You ! Thank you, my virgin lilies! Thanks to you, I exist and am. You play like, without even paying attention, an important role of “vampirophages” (in reference to the term “biophage”). At the top of my note, I said that, Woman = Maternity first, while being far from signifying that it is not equal: Engineer of the scientific space of Canada, CNRS or NASA, the bus driver, the university professor, the craftswoman, etc … Honor to this femininity-maternity inscribed in its very genes, from which it infers that I disagree a little with Mrs. Simone De Beauvoir which I do not do not go to court yet, respecting it so much. Disagreeing with her idea: “We are not born a woman, we become one”. I think that she especially wanted to abound in the same direction as her husband, the existentialist, Mr. Sartre, respectable like her, moreover. I think that his idea simply carries a certain momentum of ” intello-solidarity ”, (and there is no problem with that), corroborating Sartre’s famous formula, which I make for myself, stipulating: “Existence precedes essence =”. My question to Ms. de Beauvoir would be: What is a woman or a man, since you have to consider all the components of the block? And to take up an idea of the philosopher Alexis Carrel in his book (The Man, this unknown): << The man is a whole non-breaking >>. We are not woman in our soul, Madam. We are not man in the soul, Madam. I think that the woman is motherhood first. It finds its justification in the very beginning of its gestation, even more beforehand, physically bears the features, the characteristics, the properties (vagina, matrix, and all the arsenal) that initiate a definition of its femininity, of its motherhood. Please weigh my verb ‘initiate’. This is, of course, not everything, motherhood. I therefore affirm that the only case, perhaps, when one becomes a woman when, initially, one was not, is when the anatomical block is forced (genetic or hormonal disorder, or rather euphemistically, re- brewing or hormonal re-programming) to ‘transex’, ‘transgender’ (to be politically modern). Thus, one can become a woman, a man, who has not been before. And it may be the only example against the aforementioned Sartrian formula, since this femininity-maternity already lived in the heart of this existing body that does not even really need to appeal to this femininity-maternity. Do you think I’m ratiocin? Possible. Finally, let’s return to Mother’s Day, which is initially the feast of the Creative Goddess, Isis, the Creative Virgin, the Virgin who breastfeeds. I salute her! She may be on a big nebula, dying, giving birth to other star-mothers like the ones you are, ladies. To you all, Adorable co-creators of Isis, I would like at this moment, with all the strength of my lungs and in a burst of good child, to cry out to you: Hello! Happy Mother’s Day to Mom Elodie (my mother)! Happy birthday to the opulent mother Queen Elizabeth! Happy Mother’s Day to this unknown mother, poor as she is alone but rich in love yet and who is in a corner of the planet; Happy Mother’s Day to the famous Michèle Obama! Happy Mother’s Day to this brilliant mother who, for the sake of her child, every evening, works on the dark sidewalks and in the darkness of the corridors; a good feast especially to those mothers who, for one reason or another, will never read to me except through your privileged, lucky eyes, which co-exist theirs, on the contrary, unfortunate ones; very good feast to you that give me the opportunity to shout to you silently and directly through your browsing eyes browsing happily my note to finally receive all the love that I do. I would like, via the keyboard of my computer and through the tips of my fingers connected directly to the hive of my heart, to dedicate to you all the honeyed words that no human has ever murmured to this moment. If misunderstanding, indifference, juvenile follies have, in the past, offended some of you, Pardon! Today, my grown love, aiming at his entelechy, falls for you as a ripe fruit, for your entire enjoyment. So, cherishing you, blessing you, I beseech all the men of the earth to fill their lungs with love and to shout together: Dump party, Mothers! or better, making use of my neologism, Happy Birthday. Femmers!
Account
