Trans Tranny Trany Trannie Traney Tranie

"...these be her very C's, her U's, 'n' her T's, and thus makes she her great P's."

                                                      --Twelfth Night, Act 2, scene 5        .

[Trigger Warning: for the triggerable, andor for those 

with old-fashioned andor obsolete sensibilities who 

wish not to see disturbing andor vulgar images.]

It's just impossible to make up my mind.  But spelling is about mere incidentals, like whether or not you dot an 'i', or a 'j'.  J is one of those questionable letters, not useless, like male nipples (except I'm given to understand that some men enjoy their nipples (I have found them utterly ignorable, except when very slightly irritating)) -- redundant, rather, like 'x' or 'q', or even 'c'.  

'W' is useful; how could one reasonably get that sound, otherwise? Oouman.  Oouhmuhn, Ooihmehn.  You can get the idea, but it doesn't really work.  And when it's 'w' 'h', where what why, but not who -- that blowing doubleyou sound.  The dialect of American English I was brought up in ... in which I was brought up ... up in which I was brought -- it didn't acknowledge this particular phoneme.  Not that it's difficult to produce, like that Arabic 'D' that we can't even hear, or the Japanese sound between 'r' and 'l' that makes them confuse our 'r' and 'l'.  But, really, there's the vexing and intractable question, what is a doubleyou?  Even the Supreme Court doesn't know.  Doubleyou is so binary.

You just have to understand that some folks expect words to be pronounced the way they like it.  Like 'often' -- there's no 't' sound, except if that's how you were raised.  It's a back-formation, from 'oft'.  It's how you deduce extinct words from the root and grammatical forms.  Listen fasten wastrel scalpel castle whistle wrestle.  Dullard, drunkard, coward, bastard. 

And this nipple thing -- I understand it, embryologically. Women, after all, have an analogue, a homologue of the prostate.  Whale pelvises are used during the birthing process.  These things have reasons.  I seem to recall that humans have the capacity for, say, eight nipples, two rows of four.  This explains the supernumerary expression that sometimes occurs.  My son had a third nipple.  It never grew.  I was almost proud of it, but I think he probably got tired of my mentioning it, when he got a bit older.  So I stopped.  I am capable of learning.  

If I use the search capacity of my smartphone it volunteers  a list of suggestions.  Completely irrelevant and random.  I suppose they're 'trending', as the kids say.  Elliot Page was showing his first shirtless picture. My mind boggled.  Who is Elliot Page, and why would this be of interest?  Is he beautiful and mysterious?  Well, no.

Low bodyfat, nice enough abs if you like that sort of thing, but an example of failed puberty, youngish but not aging well -- a wizened pixie. Wizard.  He managed to achieve armpit hair -- bucking the manscaping trend, rather daringly I should think.  Transgressive.  Except, looking as he does as of northerly European extraction, he should have at least some chest hair. So he is untrue to his most authentic hairitage.  

What is it with these last 20 years.  Men actually shave their pubic hair.  And women too.  You realize what this is, right?  Body hair is a tertiary sexual characteristic, indicating adulthood.  No such hair means hands off.  It is unattractive to the point of being grotesque -- not in even an aesthetic sense, but biologically.  It's a gateway behavior, into a perversion that is common historically and culturally -- just not in our history or culture.  

But these things are relative.  Who's to say what an age of consent is.  Yes after all means yes.  Two year olds like to say NO, but, well, I don't know how to finish this sentence.  Ancient Egyptian royalty married their siblings, Mohammad married a nine-year-old, PBUH.  The flow of actual human behavior is against us, and who can fight the tide?  

American men marry American men.  No, I'm sorry, I made a grave error.  American men marry american men.  There is no America -- those capitalized 'Americas' I just used, they are purely orthographical, upper case because that's how sentences start, unless that too is a custom to be phased out, by enlightened practice and the Supreme Court.   There is no 'America' -- just a geographical expression, like the holy roman empire, or Metternich's italy.

 

And I'm doubly wrong, at least -- there are no american "men".  Because there are no men.  I just learned this, just now, when I looked a bit further into Elliot Page.  He is a man, per assertion and common report.  But some few months ago he was a woman -- I should say, he "presented" as a woman, the way a female dog presents her posterior when in heat -- 'mount me'.  Presuming of course the case is different with dogs, than with humans.  Dogs have male and female, as far as the Supreme Court currently allows us to suppose.  And it goes without saying, we are told, our understanding re the existence of "marriage" was fatally flawed.  Exploded myths: america, manhood, marriage.

Ellen Page, then.  A talented former actress, now actor -- actress actrex actranz. Such obsolete terms, like Jewess or Negress.  My grandfather said 'coons' -- it's just how Montanans born in the 1800s spoke.  People should get reasonable courtesy about what they call themselves. But they do not have the right to eliminate capital letters at the start of proper nouns.  They don't have the right to require that someone else dot an 'i' with a pretty little heart.  When very small children are potty trained, they enjoy the power of holding back, or producing.  It's something to outgrow. 

She spent all those post-puberty years (that explains it: it was a female puberty) hating her breasts. My desultory search did not uncover any info regarding her pubic area -- it's all about the "top surgery" -- radical bilateral mastectomy.  Nothing about "bottom surgery" -- vagina, labia, clitoris.  A lesbian, she will have had no affinity for penises -- yet presumably a fascination, and (in a rare instance where Freud would be correct) envy.  

But the info is incomplete.  Like Caitlyn Jenner (we all have a right to change our names) -- does he still have his junk?  Unknown to all but a few.  This must be the difference between these neologisms, "transgender" and "transsexual" -- the -sexual, I'm supposing, would try to more convincingly effect the illusion, of metamorphosing, of, um, transmogrifying thheir sex.

I should have thought Eliot truly committed herself -- removing not just the "dangerous", deadly and disgusting breast tissue the very thought of which so tormented her.  I had thought she'd had a little penis constructed out of maybe tendons or cartilage, and thigh skin, and perhaps they repurposed her clitoris.  Gristle.  Hanging or flopping or bobbing about inside those "swimming trunks" she's wearing for the first time.  Maybe it was a big penis -- is that a choice?  Can they transplant some dead man's penis -- the "organ donor" box benevolently ticked on his drivers license?  But they don't always go more than skin deep.  Like that pregnant man from a few decades ago.  Another exploded myth: motherhood.

I have to admit, I'm curious.  Bi-curious, is that the term?  No, the internet informs me.  It must be trans-curious.  Is that a thing?  Everything is a thing.  LGBTTQQIAAP-curious (I looked it up -- Legbutt Kyap.  I am Yippee Kiyay Yellow Curious.  Why does thheir Q come before my A?  That's discrimination.).  

I have below-zero interest in a prurient or titillated way, in transsexual penises.  But that's not clear: no interest in the removed or repurposed actual penises of body-dysphoric men who have themselves castrated and mutilated to counterfeit the appearance, sometimes extremely convincing, of actual women.  And no interest in a neopenis, or the penis-like construct that is assembled for the type or direction of transsexualism that moves from dysmorphic female to plausibly presented "male".  

(I've found some images of the surgical artifact in question.  

From Wikipedia

Alien, and very sad.  That second one seems misproportioned, although I've never been good at that sort of trigonometry.  But, not plausible at all.  A baby's arm not holding an apple.  Flesh-tones are off.  Looks plastic, or like a koteka, the tribal penis sheath that preserves Amazonian modesty.  An inexperienced lesbian might be fooled, as from Renaissance art, or the bas reliefs of Khajuraho.)  

I hope that's clear: no interest in either women with a constructed penis-like anatomical modification, or in the amputated organs of men who opt for this elective surgery.  Rather, my interest is like that in a medical picture of a prolapsed anus -- this can happen.  My curiosity is operational ... maybe that's not the best word -- but, might the doctors provide one of these "penises" with a foreskin, or alternatively with a circumcision scar?  Can it achieve an actual nitric oxide-induced erection?  Does viagra work on it?  (Seeing those images, the non-functionality is clear.)  Would it retract, as when it's cold -- would the "scrotum"? -- would the "testicles" retract in a fear-response?  I'd assume they put two little surgical-grade rubber ovoids in a little manufactured sac, as they do with castrated German shepherds.  So many open queries, for the questing mind.

Sup, I'm Chaz.  I used to be a cute little girl,

but I hated that.  So now I'm a man. 

I got my insurance to pay surgeons to make some junk for me, and now I have this tube of skin between my legs, like a thumb with no bone in it, and sort of behind it there's this hairless skin sac that used to be my vulva or whatever, with two silicone balls I call my balls.  They're huge.  They're held in place with mesh so they haven't caused a fistula yet, and you could hardly tell the difference, if you were a dude, but I wouldn't let you, cuz I don't let dudes near my balls.  I'm straight, see, and I dig chicks. And chicks dig me, at least the ones I git with, who don't really know what balls are like -- I mean the balls of other dudes.  

It's not hatred.  Befuddlement to a degree.  But it's disgust not with her, them, thhem, but with a depraved society that so utterly encourages a mutilation that briefly ameliorates the catastrophic mental illness of gender dysphoria or sexual dysmorphia.  There are cases where it's not about genitals, but, say, an arm.  The tranz solution would be to amputate the arm at the shoulder.  For all that it cuts as deep as can be, it's such a superficial response.  But lobotomies are still practiced -- I'm guessing mostly in, say, North Korea. 

With or without a dot, it's a 'j'.

Elliot is pro-abortion ... I think that's their locution -- oh, poor-choice. No, a typo, pro-chaz, d'oh, chew, well that was spellcheck ... but I clearly have a glitch in my brain about this. What's the matter with me.  She loves abortion is my point.  No, dang, HE loves abortion.  Well, I've lost my train of thought.  Why was I talking about abortion?  Something about uteruses, maybe.  Yes, that's it.  

She thinks that scalpels are the solution to unwanted organs and organisms, and feelings.

J