The [assumed] Mantra of J.K. Rowling

The [assumed] Mantra of J.K. Rowling

…an opinion…after reading far too many articles by writers who care far too much about the homophobic, transphobic, equality-phobic opinions of a washed-up writer who was never really ‘great’ so much as commercial.

[begin mantra]

Yes, of course, it isn’t hate to speak the truth…I respect every trans person’s right to live any way that feels authentic and comfortable to them, as long as they understand, acknowledge, accept and live by the social hierarchy of which White men are at the top, followed by menstruating White women, followed by all others, and this ranking and ordering of others is the work to which I have dedicated my life’s writings.

[end mantra]

Of course, Rowling, a White Briton, hails from the ancestry of global entitlement for reasons wholly unknown to me except for their straightness, paleness, and bottle-blondeness (which is not to be confused with attractiveness, as white Britons are about the ugliest people on the planet, due largely to their, ah hem, incestuous practices that lasted far too long) being the marker for perceived superiority, which, naturally, entitles them to rank and order all “others” who must then not only acknowledge their inferiority but also, who must then subjugate themselves to their White Rulers. What else is to be expected from a White Briton but this ideology? 

The society from which J.K. Rowling rose, believes whole-heartedly in this ruling of others through subjugation. The existence of “others” is hardly the problem. There are all sorts of people; they know this. The problem, instead, is when those “others” fail to recognize the innate superiority of the cis, wealth-inherited (again, a marker that lacks the actual merits or abilities of the person who inherited the money), White, ruling class. 

And then, when all is said and done, the White Briton can walk away, nose held high, because when faced with the unadulterated rage of the oppressed, subjugated, enslaved and altogether exploited and abused, the White Briton scoffs in incredulity at the rudeness of one’s behavior, and then, with nose still held high says, “See.”

Etiquette is, after all, the White Briton’s preferred tool of oppression because it works so well. Thus, equality (on all counts) is not for Britain or their Commonwealth for equality is the antithesis of being part of the British hierarchy. 

What’s the bfd?

What’s the bfd?

I read an interesting article this morning that announced a certain actor’s identification as a man, which was quickly (obviously) followed up by how wrong everyone was in writing about this proclamation. He is not about whom I wish to write today, because, honestly, who cares?, and really, the larger issue regarding this announcement is the announcement itself. Disclaimer: I am not educated in any matters regarding gender and/or sexuality, nor do I have any particular interest in the matter aside from the need for equality on all counts, and I identify, sexually, within society’s Procrustean bed of gender, so no, I personally have little to no experience with gender inquiries/inequities, other than being of the sexual orientation of female, which makes me largely disadvantaged (but still free) in United Statesian society. I do have some thoughts about it, however. 

This whole situation made me think really hard about gender and sexuality. If we think about our evolutionary ancestors—the animals from whom we evolved (ugh, and I cannot even believe that this will be a statement of contention)—and how they had sex, it’s pretty straightforward, because, we were all naked. What sexual parts we had were exposed, readily seen by any would-be sexual partners (and no, do not mistake any of this for a romanticized view of sexual inequality throughout our human history as this writing is not about that, but I do understand how the underlying issues of gender are about equality). As we evolved, I imagine that the need for clothing became an “issue” of sorts with regards to sex. Since our reproductive parts are no longer out for display, we must then “identify,” i.e. signal, our reproductive parts. And since we live in a world of men, and men write laws, then labels are needed for everything (not to mention the general insecurity men have with regards to sex). 

And since men are notoriously insecure about their sexuality, which is obvious due to their need to oppress everyone with whom they might be sexually rejected, a man who may fall further toward homosexuality on the continuum that is gender probably felt really insecure being attracted to other men in a world when that was something of which to be ashamed (and again, obviously, this speaks to nothing of what happens to people around the world who identify with any variant of gender beyond straight [not cis, straight in this instance], male). 

My point here, however, is that, from my point of view (which is moot because I do not identify as transgender, so whatever I think matters very little if at all), since society creates such a strain and emphasis on identifying outwardly with one’s sexual reproductive organs, the oppression felt by those who have been forced by their genitalia to behave and “perform life” in such a way that’s so unnatural to them must be so extreme that they are literally willing to risk their own livelihood to refuse society’s cage. 

The problem, thusly, with this need to not only change names (from masculine to more feminine and vice versa) but to also change pronouns makes my heart break, because if you look at this situation rationally, those who identify as transgendered should be the ones breaking out of the mold of names as gendered or sexually identifying. Names should/could be genderless. Why do we even use pronouns other than them or they? I have no problem being referred to as them or they. Do you? If you do, and you’re a champion of gender equality, you’re a hypocrite. I prefer it. There’s no need for you to know my sexual preference or reproductive organs unless you and I want to have sex with each other. 

And so, when I think of how much shit some people have to wade through in order to be themselves, I wonder if we couldn’t all do our part by simply not caring. I honestly don’t really care with whom the actor in question wants to have sexual (or asexual) relations. I honestly don’t care. If you also simply stopped caring, then you would actively be making the world a better place, because in order to dismantle this idea of gender—the performative actions required of, say, women of the South, in order to make their men appear even more masculine and definitely not not-cis—we have to stop caring about the gender of others. For there to be a truly genderless world, there must be no more talk of it.

Come, sit.

Come, sit.

Lately, all I’ve been feeling is gratitude. My life is not, by any means, perfect or even ideal. Every day’s been a struggle since we repatriated back to the United States late in 2018. Yet somehow, waking up each morning inside my home I look out my window and I begin to understand the weight that we all carry, this INFINITE JEST*, this life. What am I doing here? What are any of us doing here? What does it matter? We’re here; aren’t we? We might as well just take a look at our positionour own UNFAIR station in life. Read more