(no subject)

I've been sucked in yet again to another week's worth of online trans-hate and defense against it. I'm tempted to say I don't know why I do it, particularly since the arena in, and terms in which it takes place, have little to do with me by my own definitions (a developmentally challenged offshoot of feminism and who gets 'woman' (and thus, human) status), but I do, if I pause. It's because, in the terms in which the trans-haters wield like chainsaws and cudgels, they mean to include me, no matter if I agree or not. If I am perceived as claiming access to 'woman' thing, I'm an indisidious, colonizing 'man'; if, to the eyes of others, I don't externalize sufficient culturally dictated signs of 'femininity' (pause for irony here), I'm just a 'man', and hence the enemy. Of course, it doesn't matter that there are way, way, way butcher knee-jerk developmentally challenged "feminists" than I, or that the femmier ones are not interrogated for conforming to culturally constructed "femininity", nope; it's those pesky outsiders, those border crossers, those freakishly mobile and occasionally indifferent folks who threaten the whole system! (which they're against, of course, but only on their terms; there can be no dissent or other possibility).

You know what? Fuck all that, and all of them. It's not my goddamned fault the perceptual lexicon of others is so meager, so narrow and insufficient as to perceive my gender as I manifest it. I'm tired of playing around, giving the benefit of the doubt, being nice and accommodating. From this point on, if you try to willfully and forcefully enforce your constructions on me, and refuse to even engage me when I resist, it's on. To borrow a metaphor from belledame, if you throw me in the colosseum, don't act all surprised when I bring the fight out to you.