Just when you thought it was safe to start thinking like a normal person again, there comes news from the outer reaches of the spectrum of humanity, from the thin edge of the wedge of intelligence. Yes, disappointingly predictable though it undoubtably is, a new shadow is apparently looming large in the lives of the mentally disturbed.
The particular sub-section of the mentally disturbed that we’re concerned with today is that group of congenital idiots who have decided (with the active assistance of physicians who frankly should know better) that the way to cure the mental problem, which manifests itself in the development of gender dysmorphia, is by taking a scalpel to the person’s physical body. Yes, that’s right. These people are under the impression that mental disorders can best be treated with a sharp knife (and the addition or subtraction of a whole suite of bits and pieces).
Now, it transpires that these attention-seeking idiots are no happier in their lives. Their plans for romance have hit a snag. A rather big snag, to be honest.
Although you’d have thought that even a drunk, lobotomised monkey could have seen it coming, the transgender men who now, post-operation, claim that they are women, apparently didn’t. They didn’t predict that heterosexual men wouldn’t necessarily want to go out with someone who, until recently, was on the same team.
Transgender women are upset that having gone to all the trouble they’ve gone to, they’re no further forward on the dating scene. These men have had their Adam’s apples shaved, their pricks gutted, turned inside out and stuffed back up their ploughman’s, their nuts clipped and their chicken skin saddlebags emptied etc., etc., and yet the men they want to go out with, further the men they want to sleep with, are just not up for it.
Optimism, it appears cannot conquer all.
I’m taken aback by the odd combination of arrogance and stupidity that seems to lie behind all this. We’ve all experienced desire, love, lust, and everything in between. And on those occasions when it was made clear that no matter what we thought, this ‘proto-relationship’ was dead in the water, we may have felt a variety of emotions, but I don’t think that anger and resentment were heading the list, were they? I Certainly hope they weren’t.
So, what explanation can we find for the veritable mess of headlines which can be found today?
“New Research Shows a Vast Majority of Cis People Won't Date Trans People”
“Straight Men Must Date “Trans Women” to Combat Hate, Say Activists”
Study Claims Transgenders Suffering Because Straight People Aren't Dating Them
Transgender Man: Women Won’t Date Me, And That’s Not Fair
Honestly, there is nothing about this outpouring of melodrama and angst that isn’t deeply confusing in addition to being beyond silly. These people went out of their way to paddle the wrong way up the river. These are the folk who gloried in telling the world that they were so fucking different that they could only be truly happy if a doctor with a knife mutilated their bodies and gave them a lunch pack full of someone else’s hormones. And these are they who, it transpires, are no closer to achieving peace.
Depressingly it’s our fault, not theirs. Jesus wept. Not satisfied with eviscerating their lives in the manner that they did their twig and berries, they’re now complaining that by not going out with them, normal, socialised heterosexual men have obviously got hang-ups by the dozen!
In short, these surgically and hormonally-altered men are acting like toddlers.
This behaviour is nothing short of outrageous. The vast majority of people in this world are heterosexual, and yet the tiny, miniscule, microscopic element of the world’s population who willingly launched into willy mutilation and the like now feel that they have the right to dictate to us.
In the recent past, especially in the West, we’ve been obliged to watch, open-mouthed and aghast as this pygmyesque group of malcontents forced the majority of society to bow to their wishes so as not to hurt their feelings. We’ve seen how these altered males now demand that their rights are placed above the rights of others. We’ve seen people and organisations go out of their way to ensure that these altered males are promoted at every opportunity, thus paving the way for ever more younger confused individuals to slice and stitch their way to what they hope will be peace.
Most recently, we’ve seen inroads being made to undermine biological facts. Yes, the truth of how biology works is now being covered up in a pointless attempt to prevent the truth hitting home. It’s quite another question that as the rights of this group of ‘altereds’ are raised ever higher, the rights of other groups, notably those of real women, are being left by the wayside. Breast/chest, breastmilk/chestmilk, mother/birthing parent?!
At the end of it all, however, there is little to do but laugh. No other options remain. If these ‘altereds’ are still not happy, then there’s not a lot that anyone can do about it, is there?
Let them point the (rather large, beefy, calloused, undeniably male) finger at heterosexual men for being responsible for the lack of love in their lives.
It won’t make it any more true. A heterosexual man, by definition, is attracted to someone of the other sex, and it’s up to that heterosexual man to decide whether a ‘cut and shut job’ qualifies as a person of the other sex. These ‘modified men’ don’t get the right to dictate the ways of the heart. Nobody does.
This is a tantrum, nothing less. A tantrum which, once again, reveals the immaturity at the base of the transgender phenomenon. Instead of the metaphorical clip around the ear that this micro-pygmy collection of individuals should have received, the Left, the politically-correct, the Leftwaffe, the woke, et al, have convinced this handful of unfortunates that they matter far more than they do.
These people aren’t special, no more than anyone else. Putting your dick in a blender qualifies you for psychological assistance, nothing more.
The world’s not going to feel sorry if nobody finds themselves lusting after that which used to dangle between your legs but has now been rammed up your banus.
