About Me

I’m a Work In Progress

 

In a nutshell:

My name is Joy Anne Baker.

I’m a Progressive, a Veteran, and a Rape Survivor.

I’m 59″ tall(4’11”).  Red hair, green eyes, and obese(last weight, May 16, 2019: 211).

I have had two husbands, two abortions, and one live child, who I put up for adoption.  I carried the third pregnancy to full term because I wanted to, a) see if my motherhood instinct would kick in, and b) see how my body reacted to pregnancy.  Both results were negatives.  It’s not a bad thing.  It’s called enlightenment and knowing that I’m not fit to be a parent.  It does not, however, mean that I don’t know what parenting should be–especially since I was raised in a massively dysfunctional household.  It means I have the wherewithal to be properly self-analytical.

 

History

  • 2/21/1960
  • Born in Anchorage at Elmendorf AFB
  • Joined the Army, November 16th, 1979. Was 4 years active duty, then 10 years Reserve Army.
  • 1980-82: Assigned to Ft. Lewis (Lakewood, WA) MASH HQ (north fort).
  • 1982: Assigned to Korea, Camp Casey (a few miles from the DMZ)
  • 1983: Assigned back to Ft. Lewis (main post).
  • Went Inactive Reserve (IRR) in 1990 with two years left on tour of duty due to the enactment of Desert Shield. I was *not* going to step one fucking foot in Saudi Arabia.  I would end up shooting one of those backward women-hating motherfuckers.
  • MOS were 92B (at that time, combat medic) and 71L (clerk).
  • Moved to Delaware, 2009
  • Moved to Pennsylvania, 2010 (homeless shelter at VA substance abuse program, faked having an active issue with alcohol and prescription painkillers in order to get into a program, and continued this nonsense until 2012, in Massachusetts).  See, at that time, and today, there is no homeless program for Veterans.  I wasn’t lying about addiction. I have the potential to be one, having had problems in the past.  Don’t have them anymore, thanks to a strict personal policy about dealing with pain.
  • Moved to VA program in Leeds, MA (suburb of Northampton), 2010
  • Finally moved into an apartment in Greenfield, MA (30 min north).

 

Finances

I’m poor.  I was born poor, didn’t have connections, and have stayed that way.  Bootstraps don’t exist when there aren’t any available.  You Make Do.

 

Beliefs

I’m a rape survivor.  Happened in 1982 and with a dude I was dating.  We were drunk.  He got ultra violent at the turn of a dime and I never saw it coming.  I never reported it.  I got back at the motherfucker the next day instead.  When the VA asked me (in 2010) to give them proof for a service-connected reparation, I said it wasn’t possible.  It was 1982.  You did NOT report rape.  You suffered.  Today, women are still suffering.  See rainn.org.

Abortion:  it’s a woman’s decision and No One Else’s.  The “life” of a fetus isn’t a life until the fourth month, but even then, you can’t just yank it out and have it be a fully-functioning independent life form.  Those who’re “pro-life” aren’t.  If they were, they would care about all children, not just ones inside a womb.  Being anti-abortion is about controlling women’s sexuality.  That’s all it is.  No more.  No less.  It’s a Conservative mindset that has, at its core, a deep-seated fear of women and they react accordingly.  Before attacking a woman for having an abortion, consider the fact that it’s not a haphazard decision with no care given.  And it’s no one else’s business but the woman who has to carry the would-be life.

Rapists:  They should get life in prison.  I’m *not* messing around.  A woman (it also happens to men) who has been raped has been terrorized and traumatized, and it will affect her for the rest of her life.  Depending on the severity of the rape will depend on how her life goes.  Sometimes it’s so bad, it ends in suicide.  Why should a rapist be given a short sentence, but the woman gets Life?

Cannabis (Marijuana):  Legalize it.  Regulate it.  Tax it.  It harms No One and anyone who claims otherwise either doesn’t have the facts or they’ve based their decision on the hyperbole of others.

Drugs in General:  Legalize them.  Regulate them.  Tax Them.  They *do* cause harm.  So does Alcohol and so does Tobacco.  Legalize it.

Sex Work (aka, Prostitution):  Legalize it.  Yes, I’m damn serious.  Why is it illegal in the first place?  Because our country’s laws were created by sexually immature zealots who grew up believing that a woman has no right to use her own body to make money using sex as the commodity.  This belief was created over 2,000 years ago, and it is a ridiculously outdated and backward idea.  Once legalized, it needs regulation and taxation, like any industry.  Sex Workers would be required to have the same requirements for all “commodities” for sale.  Safety, reliability, and consumers would also be protected.  Sex Workers would also be protected.  No more anonymous clients.  No more women going missing and being never heard from again without the law, and the government, being made aware.

Legalization of the above three industries would bring to a halt almost all trafficking.  While it would still happen, most of it would be wiped out.  In the case of drugs, no more Cartels.

The only thing legalization of Sex Work would *not* stop is child trafficking.  And laws need to be harshly implemented in order to crack down on it.  At present, the government does *not* give a shit.

 

 

Religion (separate from Beliefs)

I was born into an Irish Catholic family but baptised Roman Catholic.  Left Christianity at 12, but more fully at 16, and a complete break at 19.  Reason: the way Christianity treats women.

At 30, I searched for a name for my beliefs–Goddess-based spiritualism–and found it: Celtic Wicca.

I’m a Wiccan.  I used to be a Witch (within Wicca).  What “witch” means is constant spell use and crafting.  I can’t do that anymore b/c it requires money and patience and a decent memory, none of which I have.

My pantheons are eclectic.  I have a combination of Diné Shamanism/Totemism and Irish Celtic. (Diné is the proper name for Navajo, which was a name given to them by White Invaders)  I go by my heritage.  There’s a little Swedish Norse in there (yes, there’s such a thing) but it’s the original Goddess version.

For example, after a bunch of research, I discovered that Frigga (supposed wife of Odin) used to be the supreme deity in Northern Europe.  In Greece, it was Hera.  Then patriarchal nomadic tribes moved in and murdered the priestesses and subjugated the populations.  Classic Greek Mythology is littered with revisionist real-world history.  For example, “Perseus” (aka, Greek military, probably Athenian b/c Greece was a bunch of city-states. e.g., Athens, Sparta, Thebes, etc.) went to Libya and raped Hippolyta and murdered her Amazons. The Greeks chose to represent this as the slaughter of Medusa, the serpent-haired gorgon.  She was actually At-Ena (Athena), Goddess of the Amazons, who was relegated to be the motherless Goddess of War born only by Zeus.  When the story says she was birthed from his thigh, the “thigh” was a euphemism for his semen, and a euphemism for the rape of the Amazon queen.

This is a common theme all over the world.  In what is now Israel, the ancient Goddesses were Mari and Ishtar, both of whom were reassigned as Jesus’ mother and a demon, respectively.

 

 

Writing

I started writing when I was 16 or so, but it was mainly in graphic art form.

Fanfic writing started in 2001, after I was hooked on SG-1 Slash, and specifically the Jack/Daniel pairing, though I created a third guy, Jason Coburn, based on “Major Coburn” in the credits for episodes, “Maternal Instinct” and “The First Ones”, and his purpose was to give Daniel a boyfriend/friend he could be with after the alienation by Jack after season 3.  The Powers That Be decided to go all-in with their goddamn Jack/Sam bullshit and it made it hard to watch many episodes.

I don’t think I’m a great writer.  Or even a good one.  But I like to do it, and until I stop getting the plot bunnies, I’ll keep on going.  That said, I’m now having Stalling/Block stages more often than I’d like.  It’s stress.  Typical.

TBC