Using Primal Scream Therapy to Expel the Existential Poison of the Patriarchal Asshats

Chapter 4. of the Princess and the Zebra Unicorn

Hello Friends!

It’s been another busy few weeks. The schools are taking my children again and the school year hasn’t even started. They’re in swimming, cross-country, and soccer, and I’m a driver. It’s all good, but they come home tired.

Here’s the next installment of The Princess and the Zebra Unicorn. The last time, Princess was accosted by 9 patriarchal asshats who called themselves the supreme council of judgement. In their arrogance, they insisted they had the right to control and oppress all the women in the world. Ultimately, Princess walked around them, but she wasn’t left feeling satisfied with the solution.

This chapter explores how she learns to deal with her frustration.

Here’s a link to Chapter 1. if you need to start from the beginning.

Chapter 4.

Artemix and Princess rode on in silence as they tried to get over their interaction with the supreme council of judgment.

Every now and then one of them tried to talk, but then rage would take over.

“I…” Princess said. Then her face tightened up in anger and her voice drifted off to silence.

“They…” Artemix said, and then he too found himself tightening up and unable to continue.

“Why…” Princess said, then she stopped and shook her head.

Eventually they came to the mutual realization that they were simply too angry. The supreme council of judgment had hit them with such a tsunami of hypocrisy that they had been stupefied. Neither of them liked it, but they also had to practice a bit of self-care and allow themselves to recover.

So Artemix trotted along and tried to focus on the green grass and the blue sky and the lovely trees with the white bark off in the distance.

“The countryside looks nice,” he said after a while, surprising himself by his ability to speak in a full sentence.

“Oh, we can talk now?” Princess said, still angry.

“It appears so.”

“Good! Because I have a few things I need to say to those asshats!” Princess continued.

“What’s the point?” Artemix asked. “They’re not here.”

“Well, they kind of are.”

“What do you mean?”

“They are here in their ability to influence all the other malleable jerks of the world. They stomp around whispering a bunch of malicious lies that turn into insidious beliefs that inform nefarious action.”

“What a nice sequence of adjectives,” Artemix said.

“Malicious, insidious, and nefarious?”

“Yes.”

Princess shook her head. “Okay, they are nice looking words and they’re fun to say, but they most certainly shouldn’t form the basis of a political ideology.”

“Ah, there is that.”

“I feel really angry Artemix.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Well, what can I do about it?”

“Have you tried primal scream therapy?”

“No.”

“Well, then you should.” Artemix came to a halt and indicated that Princess should dismount. She did so, jumping lightly to the ground.

“Okay, what next?”

“Now you try to clench every muscle in your body, particularly your hands, and you scream as loud as you can.”

“I scream?”

“Clench your hand into fists. I’m also told it helps if you bend at the waist. Try to scream so hard that you squeeze tears out of your eyes. Bonus points if you make yourself pass out, but don’t fall and hit your head.”

“This is good for me?”

“You’ve got to get that poison out.”

“Well, there’s not really any poison, that was just a figure of speech.”

Artemix gave Princess a look of confusion. “You just said that the supreme council of self-righteous asshats is kind of with you right now, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes but I didn’t mean it literally.”

“Yes you did, you just don’t realize you did. But the simple fact is that they’re here, there in you, they’re influencing how you behave. Your frustrated anger kept you from being able to speak before, me too. That’s no good. You have to get them out. Here I’ll join you.”

Then Artemix took a deep breath, reared up on his hind legs, and began to whinny. Then he dropped down on all fours, and began to bow his head down to the ground, his eyes tightly closed as the noise boiled out of him and tears squeezed out of his eyes. It was an impressive performance, and when he was finished he looked a little woozy. He opened his eyes to blink away the tears and said, “You see?”

“That does look like fun.”

“Okay, you try it.”

“I will,” Princess said. Then she clenched her hands and kicked back her head and screamed, “SHUT UP YOU ASSHATS!” Drawing out the “A” into a tortured scream. She bent at the waist, her knees came together, and the sound trailed out of her in a garbled torrent of furious anger.

“AAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Her face turned red, and she began to tremble.

“Good! Let it all out!” Artemix said.

“AAAAAAAAAAAA!” Princess continued.

“That’s excellent,” Artemix encouraged.

“AAAAAAAAAAAA!” Princess said.

“Um, maybe that’s enough,” Artemix said, concern entering his voice.

“AAAAAAAAAAAA!” Princess continued, and how she was trembling something terrible, and her face was so red it looked like she’d been sunburned, and her knees were close to the ground and she was reaching out with her right hand to steady herself.

“Remember what I said about not passing out,” Artemix warned.

“AAAAAARRGHH!” Princess finished. Then she took a deep breath, blinked and looked up at Artemix.

“There, now don’t you feel…” but before he’d finished, Princess was screaming again. Twice as loud this time.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Artemix realized that there was nothing he could do but support her, so he maneuvered to the side so he might be able to catch her should she fall.

Princess screamed and screamed and screamed. She screamed until she lost her voice. When that happened, she began scratching at the ground. When she turned up stones, she jumped to her feet to hurl them into the air. Every now and then her voice returned, although it was subject to intermittent failures.

“AAAA….AAAA….AAAA…..AAAA!”

This went on for a very long time.

Finally, panting and exhausted. Princess sat down heavily and began wiping her frustration/rage tears away with the back of her hand.

“Are you okay?”

Princess tried to respond, but she’d done too much damage to her voice.

“Well, this is no good,” Artemix said. “We’ve got to get you fixed up.”

Princess opened her hands as if to say that nothing could be done.

“Ah, but something can be done,” Artemix said. “Did you know that unicorn tears have healing properties?”

Princess’s eyes widened and she shook her head.

“Well, that’s probably because unicorns are sworn to secrecy never to tell anyone. I certainly wouldn’t have told that smelly jerk Roland or he’d have had me crying every time his gluttony provoked a belly ache.” Artemix snorted.

Princess looked surprised.

“Ah, it’s all right. I don’t mind telling you. Just don’t tell anyone else.” Then he leaned forward. There are still a few rage tears next to my eyes from my own scream. Don’t worry, even unicorn rage tears can heal. That’s how pure and wonderful unicorns are.”

Princess delicately dabbed at the corner of Artemix’s eye, then looked at him.

“Put it on your lips.”

She did as she was told, looked up at him, and said, “So how long does it take to work?”

Artemix smiled.

Princess was delighted. She rubbed her throat with relief. “Thanks Artemix, both for the tears and for the primal scream therapy.”

“It was nothing, tears are more potent than anyone realizes, as are screams.”

Princess got to her feet and began dusting herself off. “Gosh, I didn’t realize how angry I was until it started coming out. Then it was like I couldn’t stop.”

“Totally understandable.”

“Yet, surprising,” Princess said.

“You can’t walk around carrying somebody else’s rage,” Artemix said. “It's not good for you.”

“It most certainly isn’t,” Princess said, “but I never would have believed how much I’d bottled up.”

“It’s by design. That’s why women are told to be quiet and demure,” Artemix said. “Their communities dump so much frustration into them that their knees buckle. You always have to remember that somebody else’s anger is not your burden to bear.”

“And it comes right out when I scream?”

“Yup!”

“But what if somebody else is around, won’t they think…”

“Who cares what they think?” Artemix said with such absolute conviction that it left Princess momentarily stunned.

“You know, you’re right, who cares indeed? But what if they try to put me in a jacket with very long arms?”

“Ah, there is that. And come to think of it, people are always getting involved in your business. It's best to avoid that when possible,” he thought for a moment. “I guess we’ll just have to go off into the woods, or up into the mountains.”

“Yes, the mountains would be nice! Imagine all that anger bouncing off the stone. That seems about right. I hope the stone treats it quite badly,” she nodded to herself as if she’d just discovered something highly appropriate. Then she looked back at Artemix. “How often do we have to do this?”

“Whenever the anger starts building up. You’ll feel it. I’ve been around enough people to know they can be quite foolish. They act like the existential toxins of frustration are not a real thing,” he snorted. “Idiots.”

“The existential toxins of frustration?” Princess asked.

Artemix rolled his eyes. “That’s what you’ve just been expelling. It’s the rage/frustration/anger that leaves you paralyzed. Remember how you couldn’t talk before?”

“Yes,” Princess said. Then her eyes widened. “If I’d have started screaming would I have been able to talk again?”

“Probably, but please don’t scream when you’re riding me, it makes me all jumpy.”

“Okay, it’s good to know the required decorum.”

“Rage/frustration/anger is just another way controlling jerks coerce you into behaving as they want you to behave. They pretend like they have no idea this is going on, and then they gleefully inflict this torment on everyone they encounter before they go skipping away.”

“Rude,” Princess said, but she noticed Artemix was suddenly thoughtful. “What is it?”

“That word, skipping, it made me think of something,” his voice trailed off and Princess gave him a moment to think. The zebra unicorn looked troubled. After a moment, he turned back to Princess.

“I’ve just had a bad thought.”

“Oh? Do I want to hear it?”

“No, but you probably should.” Artemix looked from side to side and then sat down like a dog.

“You look cute when you sit like that.”

“Thank you. Now, let me tell you what just occurred to me. Remember how I said before that I have magic that I’ll tell you about whenever we get into a tight corner and there’s apparently no way out?”

“Yes, and I said that just sounded like lazy writing.”

“It's not though,” Artemix said. “Anyway, one of my powers is called ‘the sight.’”

“The sight?”

“Yeah, and it involves my ability to see things across space and time.”

“With a name like that, I would never have guessed.”

Artemix gave her a funny look, unicorns didn’t really understand human sarcasm. They were too pure for that. “Really?”

“No.”

“Okay then,” Artemix said, deciding to let the matter drop. “I’ve been troubled for a couple days based on something I felt, but I didn’t want to dwell on it. But then I said the word ‘skip’ and I recalled something awful.”

“From skipping? Skipping is fun.”

“It’s not fun the way a necromancer does it. They look weird and creepy.”

“Really?”

“Trust me.”

It was Princess’s turn to let the matter drop. “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”

So, because I have ‘the sight’ I can tell you what I think is going on. It’s better if I tell you because this story is about us, it’s not about creepy necromancers, or stinky princes, or self-righteous judgmental asshats.”

“Yes, having you tell the story is a much better narrative device than switching scenes. I get it now,” Princess said.

“Good, so here’s what the sight tells me. I suspect that a creepy necromancer brought Roland back from the dead.”

Princess gasped, “No!”

“Yes!” Artemix said. “Furthermore, I suspect that he’s become fixated on punishing us for everything that’s wrong in his life.”

“No!”

“Yes! I expect he’s tracking us right now, and sooner or later he’ll meet up with the nine self-righteous judgmental asshats… er, what was the name they called themselves?”

“Your description is more accurate.”

“Ah, okay, anyway, I expect Roland will join up with them, and they’ll have a long conversation about how they were disrespected, and how the youth of today is awful, and how everything is unfair, and they’ll go back and forth listing off imaginary grievances and stoking themselves with the fires of rage until all ten of them are irrevocably committed to destroying you and everything you stand for.”

“But I didn’t do anything!”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Why are they so fixated on me?”

“Because they’re a bunch of pathetic losers who are fixated on hatred and control rather than embracing all the glorious beauty of life.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAA!” Princess screamed.

Artemix let her at it.

When she’d finished, he said, “You didn’t hurt yourself again did you?”

“No,” Princess admitted, “there was less rage built up this time.”

“Yeah, it’s like going to the dentist. You’ve got to get that plaque scraped off before it becomes tartar.”

“What?”

“Nothing, anyway, what I’m getting from the sight is a vision of your ex-boyfriend Roland…”

“What?” Princess snapped. “Don’t call him that.”

“Oh, haha,” Artemix said, “fine. Your ex-betrothed.”

“We weren’t betrothed! What’s getting into you?” Princess said. “Maybe we should call him your ex-owner, or your ex-master, because he owned you didn’t he? You were his property weren’t you?”

Artemix’s eyes widened, “Point taken. Forgive my jests at your expense.”

“That strikes me as conduct unbecoming of a unicorn.”

“Teasing is a hazard of familiarity I’m afraid. Do you forgive me? Once asked you have to answer.”

Princess could tell he was serious. “What are the options?”

“Well, either you forgive me and we continue together as friends, or you don’t forgive me and we part ways never to travel together again.”

“Geeze! That’s pretty extreme.”

“Forgiveness is a very powerful thing, an offense can’t be ignored or it creates a pain even greater than the rage/frustration/hatred that your primal screams so recently expelled.”

“What pain could be worse than that?”

“Resentment,” Artemix said. “Forgiveness is a thing that’s best resolved as quickly as possible. You want the matter settled, otherwise you end up stuck in purgatory, which is a complete waste of existence.”

“Purgatory?”

“It’s a limbo where you’re deprived of the will to act. Melancholy and misery become your chief personality traits. It sucks.”

“And you’re condemned to this if I do not forgive you?”

“No, we’d both be condemned until we resolve the conflict in one way or another. We could each do it on our own, but forgiveness is the easiest way.”

“Forgiveness is easy? It sounds pretty complicated to me.”

“I told you it was, and powerful. So, what’s it going to be?”

“Oh! I forgive you, I forgive you! I thought that was obvious.”

“It wasn’t, and don’t play around with forgiveness. Just like a primal scream, it’s something you need to speak openly and often. These things are all part of the ancient magic.”

“Powerful stuff.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“But anyway, finish your story about Roland and the nine asshats.”

“Ah, right. I expect they’ve joined forces, and they’ll be marching along to ruin you. To make matters worse, in their pursuit, they’ll gather up even more entities that have based their entire existence on making the world miserable for innocent princesses.”

“But why would they be like that?”

“Because without their rage they have nothing. Before this story is done, I expect there will be an entire violent mob of insurrectionists. They’ll be braying like donkeys and driving enormous pickup trucks with silicone testicles hanging from the ball hitch.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Count yourself lucky,” Artemix said as an aside. Then he fixed her with a serious look, “And all the while, the necromancer will be lurking in the shadows. Every time we score a victory, or manage to stamp out some diseased and lingering form of traditional oppression, the necromancer will come creeping in with his limitless fortune to nurse it back to health so it can torment us again.”

“Where does he get his funding from?”

Artemix shrugged. “He’s the beneficiary of the fortune that has been accrued over time through stolen labor and oppression and the cultivation of misery.”

“Why does he get to have it?”

“Because he’s a bad thing, and wealth is a bad thing, and bad things are drawn to each other because nothing good can stand them.”

“Well, if he’s got so much money and power, then why does he have to concern himself with me?”

“Because he and all those like him are too stupid and lazy to ever look in the mirror and recognize that they are the source of their own misery.”

“Can’t we convince them not to be like that?”

“No.”

“Then what do we do?”

“We oppose them.”

“For how long?”

“Forever.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Princess thought about this. “It’s not very satisfying is it?”

Artemix shrugged. “It’s reality. Satisfaction doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Do I have to like it?”

“No,” Artemix admitted. “But don’t be so fixated on the injustice that you overlook all the good things.”

“Ah,” Princess said. Then she too sat down. She sat down right next to the zebra unicorn. Her shoulder touched his side. The two of them looked out over the world. It really was beautiful. It was a nice day. In fact, it was one of those rare days when the weather was comfortable without being too hot or too cold. The horizon beckoned to them, a distant, miraculous mystery just waiting for them to explore.

“Okay,” Princess said after a lengthy meditation. “I recognize that I’m surrounded by beauty, and I feel grateful to be alive.”

“Good.”

“Is it alright if I scream again?”

“Of course it is, in fact, I think I’ll join you.”

Then the two of them leaped to their feet, took enormous gulps of air, and with one voice unified in their mutual disgust of self-righteous, lazy, entitled asshats, they let loose with another loud, miraculous, and spiritually healing primal scream.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”