Gender is the most important fucking concept in the world. It’s the ur-fucking-concept.
Smith College won’t admit trans woman Calliope Wong, no way no how, because her birth certificate categorizes her as a dude. Apparently the only way Wong can change the check-box from “dude” to “dudess,” in the eyes of Smith, is to undergo sex reassignment surgery, which she hasn’t done. Says Wong:
“Transwomen are most likely not ready for surgery at 17 or 18, the typical age of a college applicant. It’s a monumental personal decision that usually arises from years of introspection and deliberation.”
So Wong can’t just declare herself to be whatever it is she is. Woman, they say, is denoted completely arbitrarily by lacking a dick. Not by any of the other factors that might just as easily be employed to differentiate members of the sex class from members of the regular class. Factors such as hormones or chromosomes or giggly head-tilts or — heaven forfend! — personal preference. The genitalia are the only thing anyone gives a fig about.
The carpet must match the drapes. One must be consistent, down below, with what one advertises up top. A girl can’t have a dick. The entire fabric of the universe, in fact, depends entirely on girls entirely not having dicks. No dicks, not of any kind.
That’s right; as is usual in all matters pertaining to everything, nothing matters but pure, unadulterated pussy. So Wong needs a doctor’s note stating that she’s had vaginoplasty. She must become legally penetrable. She has to get a fuckhole installed. That’s because the Global Accords define “woman” as “that which can be fucked.”
Someday, when future humans are lounging around the pool, strumming lutes and basking in the sunny uncomplicatedness of gender-neutrality, they’ll look back on this and laugh.
Tangentially: I get that lots of people are sure as shit, such that they actually want or need sex reassignment surgery. But is that really true of everybody? Setting aside for the moment my firm conviction that gender can and should be made irrelevant by feminist revolt, I have always thought it was super discriminatory that, in the cut-throat world of sex and identity, one is generally expected to buy the whole farm in a one-time-only sort of a deal. What if I wanted to be a dude, but maybe not forever, and without having to lop off any of my shit or going through monumental introspections and deliberations? As in, I’d merely announce “Yo, I’m a dude! Lead me to the drugs and bitches and higher paychecks!”
Forget it! Gender is not to be trifled with. It is the most deadly serious social construct ever invented. The gender-binary police state doesn’t accept, no way no how, that gender can be fluid. Before granting a sexception, they require that a person literally be in emotional crisis, and demonstrate an irrevocable commitment to the Establishment by subjecting herself to the medical industry for barbaric surgical procedures. And when I say barbaric I’m not jokin’ around. Do you realize that vaginoplasty essentially takes a peen and turns it inside-out? I mean, I’m hardly one to cry out “oh dear what about the peen?!” at every turn, but Jesus in a jetpack, that’s gotta smart.
So don’t give me any of that womyn-born-womyn crap. Wanna be a girl? Be a girl. A person shouldn’t have to implode her body parts just to go to fucking Smith. I seriously doubt that by letting Calliope Wong in, the joint’ll soon be overrun with entitled dudebros in drag.
NOTE TO COMMENTERS: The entitlement of trans women to basic courtesy and compassion is not up for debate. If you’re an anti-transite, I will ban you.