The other day, they held a debate in Maine, choosing among the potential replacements for Herr Öystërgrüppënführër after his ignominious and cowardly retreat from the Senate nomination, and it was just as horrific as you could imagine. Most of the candidates were just communists, but one was a dude pretending to be a woman. And this wasn’t just any dude. This was a slab of beef, a hulking mook who could’ve been a construction worker if he hadn’t gone off the rails, but is now probably a dungeonmaster in the world’s worst D&D campaign. And you sat there watching this 12th-level ogre, feeling either pity—if he is simply deranged—or contempt if he’s some sort of pervert. Those are your two options. But you also had to wonder what was up with the media and the other candidates. After all, it was a man dressed as a woman, and nobody called out the weirdo in the room.
Let’s establish something right at the beginning. You should have compassion for people who suffer from the mental disorder of gender dysphoria—these people are in pain through no fault of their own. But you should have contempt for those who are merely perverted, and plenty are. Sick or sicko: those are your options. You are in no way required, morally, ethically, or otherwise, to cater to their delusion either way. A dude who decides he’s a chick, much like a chick who decides she’s a dude, is not entitled to your obedient and humiliating concurrence with the lie they are living.
But the media and the other candidates did exactly that. Why didn’t one of the people on the moderator panel look at this person and ask the most pertinent question: “You’re obviously a man pretending you’re a woman, so why would anybody in their right mind ever vote for you for any position of responsibility?”
Fear. “Trans” has become scary—putting aside the social sanctions, they scream and yell at you, and sometimes they try to murder you. This is different from the drag queens of yore. The drag show thing is boring and creepy, but a traditional drag queen was a gay guy who just dressed up like a woman. He never thought he was a woman. He never expected you to believe he was a woman. That was the point of drag—it was camp, a parody. And whatever humor and entertainment value it ever had is completely demolished by looking at the audience and, instead of winking, essentially saying, “No, I’m serious, and you’ve got to be serious, too.” Moreover, a classic drag queen would slap you if you brought your kid to a show and ask you what the hell you were thinking. But now we’ve got trans activists trying to use that genre to access your kids, and they’re not doing it because children are critically deprived of gender-ambiguous entertainment. You’ll note that they never, ever go “entertain” at an old folks' home.
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If you talk to gay people, most of them have had it with the trans fanatics, too. But sadly, the faculty-lounge communists, sexually dysfunctional wine women, and the other assorted creeps who have taken over the Democrat Party, think differently. They try to force this mutant gender ideology down our throats with social intimidation when we resist. But, of course, we weren’t always resisting. We tried to be nice. Live and let live, you know—right up until the point where they wanted to live in our kids’ schools. The cultural Marxists exploited what was basic courtesy—you don’t go out of your way to cause people pain unless they deserve it—and morph it into complicity.
Reality was right there in an XXXL dress—but the media didn’t ask any questions about it. They didn’t point out the obvious: that this sad person is living a lie and somehow expects us to go along with it. I was informed—by the journos—that journos are neutral truth-tellers who don’t care whose feet they step on in the pursuit of the facts, unless it’s a dude’s feet in a pair of high-heeled Christian Louboutins. Then they shut up. They don’t ask the obvious question, but it’s the one everybody’s thinking. And why? Because of social pressure. These are the most gutless conformists on Earth. Not one of them will stand up and say what most people know—this is weird and creepy, and people suffering from this kind of delusion or perversion have no business holding office.
The other Dem candidates weren’t going to go down that road either. Of course not—this is the Democrat Party, and transsexuals are a very special constituency for some reason. It’s still not exactly clear why. The genderfreak population is a small fraction of Americans, yet the fact that normal people are repelled and disgusted by it is completely ignored in favor of bizarre and ardent advocacy. It’s in the culture, too. We’ve even got gender-switching in The Odyssey. Why? It’s certainly not because a butched-up Ellen Page was the very best person to play an ancient Greek warrior. You get rewarded for parroting the lie, but there’s a price to be paid if you don’t go along. They have tried to turn J.K. Rowling, beloved by hundreds of millions, into a literal Hitler—almost as bad as Maine Sen. Susan Collins!—not because she thinks trans people should be abused, but because she doesn’t think men belong in women’s spaces. Move over, Mussolini!
And the weirdest thing is when libs look you in the eyes and say, “Yes, this man pretending to be a woman is actually a woman.” We saw that with the head of a medical school the other day testifying to Congress that “the vast majority” of the people who have babies are women. Well, that’s technically true, but it’s not exactly specific. If he were specific, he would have said all of the people who have babies are women. And in fact, he didn’t even need to say that because we all know it. But he was making a statement. He was showing allyship. He was allowing himself to be ritually humiliated by saying what he knows is a lie to people who know he’s lying in order to prove he’s willing to defenestrate his own dignity and honor for the sake of solidarity and cocktail party invitations. That’s the thing—if you’re not all-in with the lie, it’s social suicide in the lofty circles. Just look at all the ungrateful actors who made it big in the Harry Potter movies turning on the author of the books that lifted them out of obscurity.
It’s so pathetic. But it’s an indicator. It’s an indicator of weakness.
So, how do we fight back?
With strength. Have the strength to be impolite. You don’t need to go out of your way to hassle people, though the left seems intent on normalizing that. You just have to have the strength not to play along. Embrace the power of “No.”
No, that’s obviously a man and not a woman.
No, a man cannot be pregnant.
No, a woman cannot be a father.
No, castrating males and chopping the breasts off of women and doing other unspeakable things with a scalpel and chemicals is not “gender-affirming care.” It’s an atrocity that would make Caligula puke.
This is a scheme to acclimate you to accepting the unacceptable, to swallow lies and be silent in the face of oppression. First it’s the trans stuff. Next, they’ll be demanding that you deny your religion or your patriotism or your family. Ask an immigrant from a communist country—they know the script, and they know the score. And it’ll probably work in much of the world, bereft of honor and the manly virtues of courage and virility as they are, but it doesn’t have to be that way here in America. They can only control you with their social pressure if you allow them to. And if all of us refuse to be controlled, what are they going to do? Cry about it and ruin their makeup?
I don’t know if they teach kids fairytales and fables anymore, but the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes comes to mind. Except this emperor isn’t butt naked. He’s wearing a cocktail dress and teetering on stilettos while sporting a 5 o’clock shadow.
Be the kid who points at him and shouts, “It's a man, baby!”
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