This continuation of our previous post permits us to believe that International Women’s Day has come a long way.
In 2026, IWD was celebrated by the United Nations and many other nations around the world.
In the Ancient Chinese philosophy of the Tao, the feminine principle in creation is the fundamental, ineffable force of the universe.
So one day isn’t enough to celebrate the mother of humanity. Not if Lady Justice prevails. In our picture-poetic take on Yang’s better half, the epic in progress has legs.
The dance between darkness and light will always remain— the stars and the moon will always need the darkness to be seen, the darkness will just not be worth having without the moon and the stars.
She’s tilted the panache of chivalry off its high horse.
She’s outstripped the wolf in emperor’s clothes.
She’s outfoxed la femme private eyes cherchez.
She’s accomplished more fabulous feats than the morals of fables.
Through the curtain of illusions and the looking glass of wonder, She’s literally led marching bands to victory, sinners to salvation, and sacrificed mortality to glow in the dark.
Inspired by the feminine principle in creation, this epic in progress is dedicated to She knows who She is so better than we do.
Alas, on this International Women’s Day, the larger part of humanity’s matriarchal opus yet unfolds under a patriarchal habit.
Be that as it may, by carrying a torch for liberty, dignity, and sorority in the human pageant, it’s fair to say, She’s come a long way.
You say that you are my judge; I do not know if you are; but take good heed not to judge me ill, because you would put yourself in great peril.
In the wild, the male groundhog comes out of hibernation mid-winter, only to look in on females in his territory and mark their burrows off limits to interlopers. Thus relieved, he returns to his den to resume his winter siesta in peace, until spring mating season.
“February days are a marketing gimmick; love happens every day.”
Randeep HoodaIt
We don’t rely on celebrity groundhogs to predict that happy day. The Phils and the Willies, et al, are hucksters for their respective media markets. Our go-to forecaster is in the wild. Thank you kindly for you participation in this epic event. Wherever you are, may every new day be warmer than a winter of discontent.
The buzz we’re picking up from the grass roots sounds promising as prayer. Tomorrow morning’s shadow play tells whether global climate changes to a kinder and gentler state on Earth than prevails on Mars, sooner or later.
No word yet on whether the official shadow will show up for the rapidly approaching prognostication on TV. If so, underground poetry could face six more weeks under the weather.
We’re tapping the burrow for possible leaks about balancing the bipolar temperament of a tilted globe in the sway of a gob of gaslight. Watch this space for any signs of a bad moon waning.
“The groundhogs are pretty good at eluding. If somebody is trying to come after a ground hog, they go and they burrow.”
Welcome to our countdown to the day of reckoning. During this week, we’re keeping an ear to the ground, listening for leaks of a possible early end to cold affronts felt in the global village neighborhoods of Canada, Greenland, et al. Watch this space.
“No animal, according to the rules of animal-etiquette, is ever expected to do anything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during the off-season of winter.”