TRIGGER WARNING: This article contains bushels and bales of foul language. It also quotes passages that are so hate-filled, they make Adolf Hitler look like Doris Day. As a result, many readers may find this material problematic. Enter with caution, and DO NOT touch the museum exhibits.
As a cisgender male, I feel it incumbent upon me to inform select members of this audience—basically, all of you—that you, too, are cisgender and certain people may therefore wish you grave harm because of it.
The neologism “cisgender”—and it’s a soft “c,” as in “celebrate” and “cemetery”—heat-welds the Latin preposition cis (“on this side of”) to the word “gender.” The prefix “cis-” is the polar opposite of “trans-,” which means “across” or “beyond.” By definition, cisgender persons stand in binary opposition to transgender persons, who are pretty much the only ones who ever toss around the word “cisgender,” anyway.
According to the trannies, “cisgender” persons have somehow convinced themselves that their “gender identity” correlates with the gender they were assigned at birth. Mind you, those who may assign you the “cisgender” tag long after you were born don’t seem to realize that it may have been Mother Nature who assigned you this gender in utero as a result of giving you either a plug or a socket below your waistline. No, they insist that gender is a social construct, and as such, it must be deconstructed and perhaps even surgically reconstructed.
Are you with me? Me, neither. If it all sounds very divisive, that may be precisely the point.
It is on Tumblr—that infantile nexus of millennial social-justice insanity—that transsexual rage finds a safe, welcoming space in which to blossom:
Die Cis Scum calls for the death of cis scum. The death of the cis scum mentality. The death of the overlying power structures that enable cis scum behavior and cis scum thought. The death of scummy cis-ness that threatens trans*folk’s lives.
That is when I instantly screamed at them to shut up because as someone who is not trans* they will never understand what being transgender is about and that they should choke on a bucket of glass for even suggesting that they could have any idea what I and others like me go through every day.
I hiss at and/or eat cis scum…
I don’t know what’s worse, her misgendering me or her assumption that because I was born a boy, I must want to wear man’s underwear! It literally tears me apart when she says that. I just want to throw the boxers in her face and scream, “HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW I’M A GIRL, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE???
>in a gay interracial threeway
>fucking a black guy in his ass while a Pakistani bloke is balls-deep inside me
>feel that unmistakable pressure in my taint
>I know I’m about to cum
>passion overtakes me
>“FUCKKK I’M GONNA CUM INSIDE YOUR NIGGER BOY-PUSSY ARGGGG”
Well, then. That settles that. Clearly it is the straight, white, patriarchal overlords who are the maladjusted ones in this equation.
Just as the word “homosexual” has been supplanted by the now-archaic mood descriptor “gay,” perhaps we should stop labeling these people “transgendered” and instead call them “angry.”
Like so many in the topsy-turvy social-justice demimonde, they insist that you accept them while they reject everything you represent. They stomp their stiletto heels and demand the same privileges as you, even though they’re really asking for special privileges catering to their precious specialness. They want warm, welcoming, gender-fluid public restrooms where they can release their fluids without feeling ashamed. They want you to penetrate them in a dark motel room without the risk of being beaten up when you realize they have a ding-dong. They don’t want to be humiliated by cops who are confused when they don’t appear to match the gender description on their driver’s license. They want prison cells that fit their gender identity and not their birth certificate. They want the right to constantly throw public tantrums over the slightest imagined insult without people defaming them as mentally ill. They don’t want ANYONE to tell jokes about them—EVER!!! They want to be treated just like you and me, despite the fact that their entire identity is based on being completely different than you and me.
In this peculiar fairy tale, only the cisgendered enjoy unearned privilege, because there is certainly no privilege in being a white trust-fundie with enough time and money to obsess over transforming oneself from a guy to a gal. By necessity, these fumbling attempts to normalize what is transparently aberrant are dripping with hypocrisy. The “Die Cis Scum” narrative inverts reality and turns what is normal into a pathology and what is freakish into something prosaic—even wholesome. It takes the hate that these sexually confused and genitally bewildered people have likely endured their entire lives and flings it back at the haters, only this time the hate is deemed righteous rather than hateful. That’s because in this hateful society, where normal people with normal genitals walk around mocking and oppressing teratological anomalies and surgically altered sideshow attractions, the transgendered are powerless and thus unable to hate or wish harm or kill, even if they’re hating you, wishing harm upon you, or killing you.
Still, all this frantic, misguided rage misses its target, at least in my case. Their hate rolls off me like water off the backs of Daffy or Donald Duck—two cartoon figures of yore that were clearly male heterosexuals and made no bones about it. I laughed my balls off the entire time I was researching this article, and as a result I have accidentally transitioned from cisgender to transgender. Thanks, guys. Sorry—thanks, girls. I mean, thanks [INSERT GENDER PRONOUN OF CHOICE]. You dudes are the best.
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