Monthly Archives: November 2011

Happy Turkey Day!


Happy Turkey Day! –unless you’re part of the “service class”! In which case, SUCKS TO BE YOU!

Seriously, though. Holidays are a necessary part of American life. We are already in a cultural deficit. We already fail to pass on our families’ heritages for long forgotten traditions. National holidays are all we have left –and those are quickly slipping away!

For all of the glitz and glamour that advertisers portray of the holiday season, more and more people are beginning to look at such wonders and ask themselves, “who in this country are so blessed to live such magical, faerytale lives?”

For the simplest pleasures, time with one’s own family during the holiday season, has become not just a commodity, but a luxury, for which there is no price.


Gender Conformity and Consequential Dysphoria


So today I got into a heated argument over the concept of gender dysphoria among transsexuals and gender queers. I came off as elitist, yet my position is far from it. Regardless, the matter involves the controversial subject of those who are “legitimately trans” and those who are otherwise “just confused.” I expect to receive a lot of criticism about the matter and the consequence of being called an elitist. I’m not, but needless to say, you’re probably going to say I am.

If I could speak candidly for a moment, I’ve typed up a scenario that I have seen many times before among the lives of fellow transwomen. I am writing this with the presumption that we all agree that society has an unnecessary bias towards masculinity, and the consequence of that is the tendency for male-to-female transsexuals (who would otherwise live happily in the non-conformative gender queer lifestyle) to conform to a feminine extreme in order to validate their gender expression.

So, dealing strictly with a binary system

I don’t believe that any transwoman is 100% female.  For that matter, I don’t think any ciswoman is either. Rather I’m more inclined to believe that everyone (both trans and cis)  possesses their own, unique  gender continuum — possessing qualities from both groups, in a majority-minorty ratio. For example, some transwomen are 70F/30M, while others could fall on a more or less extreme along the continuum. Personally, I’m 60F/40M, yet I’m not comfortable with the idea of living forty-percent of my time as a male.

However, if I were gender queer, I probably wouldn’t want to conform to any particular side, but I also wouldn’t necessarily be comfortable with permanently modifying my body, either. And if I were, oh say….40F/60M, and enjoyed sex as a male, and then had GRS, that would probably complicate my sex life — especially if possessing a phallus was an important part of my gender expression.

And the fact is, I shouldn’t have to go to such extremes to validate my gender expression, yet if I were confused, and unaware of the freedom of living a gender queer lifestyle, and started exploring gender non-conformity, there is always the chance that I could wander into the realm of the transsexual; attracted by the beauty and success and freedoms that so many of us have shared with our peers.

So let’s play out a scenario:

My name is Daniel, but I secretly explore a persona called Daniella. I have a wife and two kids (both are under 12), and a family who is bible-thumping Christian conservative and anti- LGBTQIGQC….etc. My wife doesn’t know, and to be honest, I’m not really sure how she’d feel about it anyway. I desperately want to get out of this masculine shell, and explore all avenues of gender expression, so I talk to a therapist about it. She suggests, after hearing my sentiments, that I could be gender dysphoric.

And here’s where the problem begins:

The fact is, the tests and studies that validate GID do not necessarily differentiate those who are transgender (bearing strong transsexual potential) from cross dressers and gender queers and everybody inbetween.

So I take a battery of tests that conclude possible gender dysphoria and my therapist suggests a route that would help me to explore my gender identity. Unfortunately, the only resources in my area do not deal with gender queer issues but transgenderism — most particularly facilitating transsexuals. I also do some digging online, and I have no clue about what I don’t know, so I completely omit any searches dealing with gender queerism.

So, I talk to my therapist and play devils advocate and play out a scenario of life as Daniella, and my heart melts. The thing is, that world right now just seems so damned attractive, and I really have never gotten to explore it, so I flirt with this concept for months.

After three months, I’ve decided that I’m tired of all of this teasing and that I’m just gonna go ahead and take the plunge.

I lose my wife…

My kids…

My family…

And even my closest friends in the process.

But at least I’m getting to explore that my part of my gender identity, and the change is refreshing. I’m also holding onto that feeling for as long as I can because, if I lose it, the overwhelming reality of the trade-offs will settle in, and I’ll start getting suicidally depressed.

Meanwhile, I look for reassurance, validation, and advice from everyone about tips and tricks, and assessments of where I am, and where to go from here.  So I start attending regular groups, and spend hours a day on online forums — both of which are filled with older peers who are elitist and impart their conformitive beliefs onto me. I want to feel validated, so I adhere to their elitist standards.

All this while, I didn’t want to feel like a pervert

I always enjoyed certain elements of my life as a male — namely, sex as a male. I love penetrating almost as much as being penetrated. And the idea of being a woman with a penis is really sexy. I’m not an autogynephile, because those freaks are perverts! My mentors have always been really clear about that, and I don’t want to be an outcast, so I guess I’ll have to do without.

Later I get the all the surgeries, but I’m unhappy. I lost everybody important to me, and now can’t even enjoy the shallow pleasures of sex. Well, not normally, anyhow. And it’s so hard to orgasm — it’s just frustrating. It’s not so bad living as a woman, it’s just it’s not what I really wanted. I start asking myself, “was it really worth it all? Did I really need to go through all of this effort, spend all of this money to the point of impoverishment, and for what? So that I could earn the privilege of wearing women’s clothes and doing women’s things?”

Hopefully you see what I’m getting by now

Yeah, it’s their choice, but is it worth all of the pain? Should they really have to go through all that trouble?

Because, the fact is, many of us, through the process of encouraging them, also try to guide them along a path similar to our own. And sometimes, we don’t even realise when we’re being biased; when we’re secretly alienating their gender identity, and influencing the direction they will take.

It’s for this reason that I am disinclined to encourage anyone who I am not at least 75% sure will be happy in that gender role. Even then, I’m often cautious as to how much to offer them. I know that sounds cruel, but I’m not comfortable with the possibility that my actions could play a role in bringing about the misery — and possible ruin — of a good person. Especially if any of that pain is entirely unnecessary and avoidable.

Pieces of a Missing Puzzle


My time here is nearing to a close. I have nothing left but faded memories now. This is not the house that I grew up in. This is not the land that I used to walk. This is not the sky that lit up my world. This is not the air that used to fill my lungs.

This is the land of the sick and terminally ill. The sun does not warm my face, yet icy winds prevail to penetrate my bones beneath; crystallizing vermillion snowflakes throughout my porous marrow. I cannot breath here anymore, for the air is filled with a sharp, yellow dust, and the spicy mist of abandoned corpses.

I wander through empty squares and forgotten streets, and stumble upon stumps where pillars of justice once stood. The steps are still here, but they don’t really lead anywhere, anymore. I crouch, and clutch myself for the chill that will not leave me.

I look around for something to keep me warm, and find a soiled, tattered flag about to blow into the street. The chills begin to pulse, and I am overwhelmed with a violent shake. But I overcome it, just in time to grab that cloth and wrap it around me, before it blows out of reach — yet it there is no relief, as it is only veil-thin.

Dusk is about to fall and I need a place to lay my head for the night; just for a few hours. I will be on the move, soon again. For if I lie too long, the rigor mortis will set in, and I may never get back up again. I cannot let myself waste away like that, no — not here, not like all of the others.

Anyhow, I was taught never to die on the length of my back, but on the width of my feet. And even if I am frozen in my footsteps, perhaps, later on, when this land is rediscovered, I can stand as a totem — warning newcomers of the imminent mortality that awaits them here, should they decide to advance any further.

Anne Onimus

The Truth About A Faerytale


I have a very sharp bone to pick with Stephanie Meyer, Ann Rice, Charlaine Harris, and every other author who thinks that any Vampire could ever have the capacity to be a lovey-dovey, romantic, soul-bearing creature — They’re not.

They’re brutal, sociopathic, demonic creatures who feed off of our very life’s blood.

Understand, they’re not people. Not any more. They’re what is left, of what once was, a person. A person terrorised; weakened to the brink of death; raped of their entire being, until they became catatonic; their bodies left to be inhabited by their tormentors.

These aren’t tragic souls, but hollowed out beings. They are an abomination of life. They’re parasites — for they cannot reproduce on their own, while their sole purpose is the destruction of human life.

These are monsters in every sense of the word. They seek us out, and prey on us. They’re cold, calculating serial killers; and they’re nothing to be admired.

Meyer, Rice and Harris flirt with romantic fantasies of the Vampire. But they never truly follow these fantasies to their inevitable conclusions. They’re still entranced, and make allowances for their being. They want them to be redeemable. Yet, for the Vampire, there is no redemption, for there is nothing to be redeemed.

Jadis Argiope on “The Topic of eBooks”


The name Kindle is a bit ironic, don’t you think? Because, as Kindle and similar devices thrive, fewer and fewer books will be printed. You can call it Green or being responsible all you want — never mind all of the alternatives, like rice paper and hemp — but the fact is, it’s part of a movement to digitize all media, and control what you’re able to read. And that control gives the one- percent all the power they need to determine just what you will and will not be reading.

You can expect censorship on a level like you’ve never seen — just, slightly more sophisticated. Yet, should something clever enough manage sneak through, once identified, and with a push of a button, it will have been deleted like it never existed, and you’ll wonder why or how this could ever happen. A computer virus will be to blame, or Chinese hackers, or anyone but the true perpetrators.

And thus, in an instant, digital book burning will have occured, and all the while, never leaving a trace, not even a trail of smoke, as the whole event will have been one- hundred – percent Green.

Prophecies For A Corporate America


So sayeth Jadis

“In the future:

Guests (Thanksgiving/Hanukkah/Christmas etc.) staying over will be deemed a crime against fair commerce, unless the hosting family: 1.a bills the guests for their stay and 1.b documents the payment 1.c pays taxes on that income; 2.a obtains a lodging permit from their county and 2.b passes zoning and health code standards with their county inspectors.

In other words:

Hospitality will thus become Corporatised. After all, that’s only outsourcing the lodging/hospitality industry, and those are our job creators! And so, if you aren’t one of the major players, and you don’t have enough capital and the know-how, then you aren’t one of our job creators and you’re not getting into the market! Which means, in all likeliness, your friends and family will be pretty much screwed.”

May your Ideal or Deit(y/ies) have mercy on us all!