A meditation on the human drives of certainty and change, taken from Stanislaw Lem’s short story GOLEM XIV.
Trolling is not an art, any more than lying is an art. Both can be done with more or less artistic effort. But that does nothing to define their purpose, or excuse them.
We live in story-books and maps of phantasmal landscapes. All of us, without exception. Some of us are catching on to the advantages.
Long bit follows…
In summary, almost all of these misconceptions stem from the assumption that we’re really men, and considering us, our lives, our implications and our choices through a male frame of reference. A…
And more on trans* shared by the brilliant tortuousgoddess
If you’re just joining us, this is in response to Why to respect trans identities.
I’ve thought a bit about what you’ve said, and I’m in agreement with you - for those with hormone unbalances, chromosome errors, and other similar issues, at least. (Not to imply that anyone deserves to be attacked for an action that harms no one). I’m torn on what to think about those who attempt to ‘switch’ without such factors. I guess I think of them in the same vein as those who diagnose themselves with mental disorders without medical advice, often for attention. What’s your view on this?
Thanks for writing again! I’m happy to keep answering as many questions as necessary.
Part Two of the kick-ass discussion on respecting trans identities.
I had a private conversation with someone about gender and biological determinism, and I’m reposting my book-length response here. If you know anyone who needs to hear this stuff, here it is. If you’d like to add more resources, comments, or links to useful reading, I’ve made this answerable.
I like edumacating, and I always appreciate hearing how to do better, so if you have questions or critiques, my ask box is open.
[TW: All the usual gender bugaboos.]
This post made it clear to me that tumblr. could be an interesting, even important, way to think about important ideas with people. And it kicks ass.
I remember in middle school I got one of the report cards that I got all the time:
“W clearly could be doing better, but he lacks motivation.”
This was a teacher who I could talk to, this time. I came to class after school, slapped the report on his desk, and said
“OK, this has gone on long enough. Fine.
He stammered about cars and girls and such, and I either said “don’t care” or “not on those terms.” Eventually he handed me Candide.
I am not sure what he was trying to say, really. But it was kind of a start, in some sort of a strange direction.