There’s a reason why you almost never hear Talking Heads talk about sex – not the act; the bifurcation of normal mammals into male and female – while they talk endlessly about gender.
Which isn’t biological and thus is fungible.
A biological man can claim he feels he’s female and – shazam! – by dint of those feelings and his assertions regarding them his biological sex (male) becomes gender female . . . because “she” insists.
Well, one could just as logically assert Lobsterhood on the same basis – and insist on appropriate accommodations, such as brine tanks in all “public” places – as well as other things not as amusing, such as a 60-year-old man who feels his gender is teenage girl and thus insist on his right to date teenage boys.
Or a teenage boy in high school who wants to get close to teenage girls – naked ones – by claiming that he is one and so must be admitted to their locker rooms and that they must “accept” his presence among them. Parents who object will be derided as “haters.”
This is already happening and much worse will – since feelings are endlessly fungible. One can feel they are . . . anything at all.
Biology, on the other hand, isn’t fungible.
A medical examiner or anthropologist can discern very quickly and without contestation whether the body – or skeleton – before him is male or female. The differences in bone construction, density and so on are biological facts.
It is one – or the other.
It cannot be either.
Excepting the abnormal – such as hermaphrodites and so on – sex isn’t debatable.
It just is.
The question becomes what to do about those unhappy with what nature – their parents (their fathers, to put a finer point on it) bestowed upon them.
If a man wishes to wear a dress, put on lipstick – and take off various parts – that is certainly his right. Even if pathological.
To deny anyone the right to do whatever they wish to do with themselves is as evil as it gets because it amounts to claim of ownership over that person, which is the functional definition of master – and slave.
But the man who doesn’t want to be one hasn’t got the right to demand that others “accept” that he is now she because he says so.
Some will regard this as petty – even mean.
If so, it is petty – and mean – to refuse to play along with the lunatic who believes he is Ney, Marshall of France – because he says he is and dresses the part.
The earnestness of the lunacy doesn’t change he fact that it is lunacy.
He is not Ney, Marshall of France. And it isn’t funny if he actually believes that he is – as opposed to just dressing up. The man is mentally ill. Far worse, if he insists we believe he is not ill – and are compelled by the government to genuflect, accordingly.
In which case, the pathological becomes indistinguishable from the normal. There no longer is a normal . . . anything.
In which case, how do we distinguish that which is criminal?
What happens when a 60-year-old man tells the court that his 12-year-old boyfriend is appropriate because he’s not a actually 60-year-old man (despite the XY chromosome, the stubble, the Adam’s apple and birthdate circa 1955) but really a 12-year-old girl?
Because he feels – very strongly – that he is one?
If reality (biology as well as chronology) no longer decides, if “identity” is to be a question of feelings, then this person is in fact the young girl he claims to be and has every right to play doctor with the young boy.
Just as grown men in dresses are already asserting their right to use women’s bathrooms.
And the new doctrine is that no one has any business judging, forbidding let alone punishing this.
Those who dispute that she is in fact he are guilty of a form of Thoughtcrime is called “misgendering” – and are already subject not merely to civil punishment but – far worse – a kind of psychological torture of the sort administered by the character O’Brien to his victim Winston Smith in Orwell’s 1984. They must be forced to see the New Truth:
Smith is manacled to a table; an apparatus affixed to his head applies a kind of lobomotomic power that corrodes Smith’s capacity to perceive objective reality. O’Brien shows Smith his hand, with four fingers raised and asks him how many he sees. Smith replies four. O’Brien then says, “and if the Party says there are five fingers, how many do you see”?
Smith says four – attempting to preserve his sanity by refusing to deny objective reality. Instantly, the current is passed through his body; he arches his back against the restraints, feels agonizing pain.
And – for just a moment – he does see four fingers and believes he sees four.
“You see, at any rate, that it is possible” O’Brien explains.
This is where things are headed – if fungible feelings replace granite facts; if gender becomes a synonym for sex.
One feels the urge to either bay at the Moon – or head for the hills.