Monthly Archives: April 2012

Attention: Transwomen


Is it too much to ask to find a balanced (within tolerance) transgendered woman who does not overly sexualise and objectify herself as the fetishist crossdressers do? Truly, this is misogyny in women’s clothing.

Thirty to forty-year old transwomen are behaving like hypersexual girls (teens to mid twenties). How have we not already grown up yet?

Yes, we may have skipped that period in our lives — and yes, it was denied of by many factors, not the least of which was our assigned gender at birth — but that doesn’t mean it’s appropriate to live out that part of our lives in nearly all facets of our transition. Sexuality is merely one facet in the glimmering jewel of our lives. So why are we selling ourselves so short? Have we really so little confidence in our personalities?

I challenge you all, my male-to-female transgendered readers, to portray yourself in a way that highlights that part of yourself that you secretly have the most pride in. Are you artistic, are you intellectual, are detail oriented? Whatever  makes you you, show off that side of yourself in your photos, and in your bios. Because being transgendered isn’t who you are, or what you are. It’s what you just so happen to also be.


Yours truly,


T.S. Vandenberg


Easter Day Solutions


So today’s Easter Sunday, and we’re all wearing Easter colours to work, instead of our usual uniforms. Easter colours, of course, being pastels. Easter, being the day when everyone passes around they’re favourite bite-sized candies and deviled eggs. And, apparently, this is also the day that impossible things are known to have occurred.

No, I’m not talking about a man who claimed to have had mystical powers who was tortured for his insanity and allegedly rose from the dead and is thus traditionally celebrated around this time of year by a billion duly indoctrinated followers.

I’m talking about where small, long-legged mammals are said to have laid bright, colourful eggs in random places for children to find. And instead of a foetus, it’s candy, or a clue to where one can find a whole cashe of candy, or even money — if you’re fortunate enough to find it on someone’s estate.

But that’s not what this day’s really meant to be about, now is it? No, in fact it really is supposed to be about a zombie a deity coming back from the dead, forgiving everyone’s errors, and opening up the door to an intangible fantasy paradise called Heaven, where previously we were expected to wait outside in what one can only imagine was something akin to the world’s biggest Macy’s After-Thanksgiving Day Sale, and the staff were milking those last five minutes before they unlocked the doors.

And everyone gets in now. Everyone! Even murderers on their death beds, if they renounce their actions, and accept Jesus Christ as their personal lord and savior. Everyone, except us. That is, not the non-Christians. And definitely not bisexuals, like myself. No, we’ll just have to sit and wait until the second coming before we can talk with the head guy and see if we can’t maybe work something out, before he makes any final decisions come Judgement Day. Tick-tick-tick-tick…..

Oh, wait….here’s an interesting passage: “And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of Heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be bound in Heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in Heaven.” Matthew 16:18-19, New International Version (NIV).

Well, well, well…. Nice. Perhaps there’s, eh, hope left after all. Obviously, as the Catholic’s believe, Peter was the first Pope and the head of the Church. And as the head of the Church it was pretty much whatever he says, goes. And naturally, in tradition of that authority, all other Popes were given the same power to change pretty much anything else they wanted: Everything from saintliness, to heliocentricity, allowing graven images of the Lord to even the Cardinal no-no’s of Leviticus!*

So if they can do all that….then….why aren’t we already standing outside of the gates of the Vatican petitioning the Pope to ratify same-sex love, and the celebration of that love, i.e. gay marriage? It’s pretty much our only ticket to validation and salvation, so what have we got to loose?

And if the doomsayers are right, that clock is ticking down pretty fast, and who  knows how long we’ve got before all Hell breaks loose? I say: Go for it! Best case scenario, we win! Worst case scenario, well, there’s always Episcopalian, right?

Click the link and sign the petition today!

*For those who are unaware, I was raised Catholic, so some of what I’m saying might seem to be coming out of left field. That’s okay; nobody’s perfect.

The Acropolis


“Who will fight the lion?”

“I will fight the lion!” fifty men shout in unison. After weeks of deliberation, and dozens more lives lost, a champion is chosen.

A great feast takes place as everyone drinks to the inevitable victory of our new hero. And as the celebrations near to a close, the town breaks out in song, for the valiant acts that are about to take place. Little do we know, that our brave volunteer hasn’t slept a wink last night, for fear of the unknown that awaits him. Reluctantly, he descends down the hill where the townsfolk saw the beast last. He doesn’t have to venture off too far, as the lion has left much carnage in its wake.

There it is, gnawing on the last bit of flesh clinging to the bones of a fellow citizen, entangled within the garb of one of our former heroes sent before it. Our champion gets to high ground, trying to work out a strategy before he is ready to strike. But the lion smells his fear, and stares him dead in the eyes. A cascade of petrification begins to roll down our hero’s legs, but he resists the curse, just in time to escape the lions bound. He steals himself to an even higher ground, while the lion chases him around, as he fights for his life.

Meanwhile, the town isn’t threatened by the lion during this distraction, but it won’t last for long. And the feeling is merely a complacent comfort. A  few of us still know that our champion cannot distract it for too long before it begins to get bored with him. He must therefore kill the lion, before it devours him, the whole town, or both.
What does the town do? It cheers him on from five miles away. Is our champion still alive? Does he have enough supplies to overcome thirst and hunger? Does he have the tools to take down this magnificent beast? Why are we all hiding five miles away — safe for now — up on our little hill?

If we expect our warrior to win, should we not support him in every way we can? Our words are of no comfort, for they mean just as little as his. If we want him to succeed — and we do need him to succeed — we should take action, ourselves, and have the courage to come down and fight along with him, and help him to accomplish this mission, before it is too late.


Time: 12:25/12:25PM
Date: 4th April, 2012
Place: Virtual world of
Activity: Friend posts photo of President Barack Obama with iconic quote


*Click!* *Post*


“If we can’t take pleasure and satisfaction in concretely helping middle-class families and working-class families save money, get a college education, get health care — if that’s not what we’re about, then we shouldn’t be in the business of politics. Then we’re no better than the other side. Because all we’re thinking about is whether or not we’re in power.”


-President Barack Obama


Me: “Was this before of after his inauguration?”


Friend: “I have asked before: Unless you have the knowledge and inside information to explain how this worldwide crisis might have been better handled, take your criticism without substantiation to another page. Thank you. Between now and November, if you have a candidate promising us a better way, please, bring it to our attention. I will walk door-to-door and give my time in the commons to talk to all that will listen. I just want the best available people serving at all levels of our government.”


Me: “I understand that. And I whole heartedly agree. However, I am a firm believer in holding our elected leaders to their words.

“It doesn’t matter who you vote for, once they’re in power, as sincere as you may want them to be, don’t trust them within an inch of your life, but hold a close watch on them. Hold a gun to their proverbial head if you have to, whatever you gotta do, just make sure they don’t go back on their word, and strike you from behind.

“I voted for Obama, and I will again. But he has already burned me so badly. After he gets his second chance this next term, expect me and others to belligerently pressure him to do the right thing. Too quickly is this nation losing it’s sovereignity and philosophical identity.

“We are a nation that believes in certain inalienable rights. And yet a grave trade-off is taking place as minorities gain recognition and long-due liberties, while the whole of us sacrifice the basic fundamentals such as those of privacy, freedom of speech, habeas corpus and many others.

“I will not stand idly by as promises are left unfulfilled and forgotten; and neither should you.”

Promises, Promises….