Remember all that stuff you learned in biology class about mommies and daddies, boys and girls, all that jive? Remember when you thought gender was binary, either/or? Back then, it all seemed so simple:
“Boys have a penis. Girls have a vagina.” Wow. Just… wow. Was Kindergarten Cop made in 1990, or 990?
These days, of course, we know better. Some boys have a penis, and some girls have a vagina. Some other boys have a vagina, and some other girls have a penis, and some people don’t have either one, or at least they cosplay that way. And in any case, figuring out their pronouns is everybody else’s problem.
This arrangement can change at any moment. A person can transition back and forth between one gender and another at will, and you will obey the dictates you’re given without complaint. If you refer to a person with the wrong pronouns or an outdated name, you’re “misgendering” or “deadnaming” him, her, and/or them. And if you think human biology isn’t subject to the whims of a few angry activists… hoo boy. I mean girl.
If all this seems confusing, that’s only because you’re an evil bigot.
And don’t even think about questioning these rules — or more accurately, this complete lack of rules — on social media. You’ll get locked down quicker’n you can say, “Glen or Glenda!”
Here’s a good example based on recent events: All liberals in good standing know that Rachel Levine is a woman because he says so. I mean she. So you can forget about Levine’s Y chromosome. Don’t even think about the children Levine has fathered. Just do as you’re told, and pretend everything you know about biology is defunct.
Denying biological reality isn’t too much to ask, but some people insist on living like it’s 50 BC (Before Caitlyn). First, Indiana Congressman Jim Banks was suspended from Twitter for “intentionally misgendering” Rachel Levine. In other words, Banks claimed Levine is a man, despite being warned to pretend he doesn’t understand basic biology.
And now, nobody else is allowed to report on it or they’ll be punished for their blasphemy as well. My friends at PJ Media have been found guilty of science-witchery:
And so have the wisenheimers at Not the Bee:
You’re not allowed to say Rachel Levine is a man, even though she is. It doesn’t matter what biology says. Jack Dorsey loves science, except when it’s not trendy.
So obey the rules, and quit asking what the rules are. Don’t say the wrong thing, which can change at any moment and for any reason. As Titania McGrath puts it: “If all opinions that I disagree with were made illegal, fascism would be over.”
And whatever you do, don’t ask questions about any of this. What’s scientific about that?
In other transgender news, it turns out the organizer of that anti-Dave Chappelle protest last week has an interesting history:
Watch that video while you still can. At this rate, presenting any facts about transgender activists will soon be grounds for banning. I’m surprised Substack is even allowing me to type these words. It’s only a matter of time before this platform gets locked down too.
In 2021 America, it’s okay for white people to tell a black man not to make jokes that hurt their feelings, but it’s not okay for white people to make jokes about black people.
Don’t you dare laugh at this:
That’s racist, but telling Dave Chappelle to STFU isn’t. If you have to ask why, that just proves you’re a racist.
Nancy Mace wants to know why the hell the NIH has been performing cruel experiments on beagle puppies, and she’s sending her complaint straight to St. Fauci:
It’s bad enough that Fauci has killed a lot of human beings with his negligence and dishonesty. Now even puppies aren’t safe. National Geographic needs to make a documentary about that.
Ben Sixsmith read the novel Hillary Clinton slapped her name on, so you don’t have to: “If the novel is a corpse then let this critic be the coroner.” The book sounds absolutely dreadful, and I’m sure it’ll be a bestseller because libs still can’t accept that she lost and they need their fan-fiction.
I’m way too old to be playing video games, according to people whose opinion I disregard. I tell myself that the immersive nature of gaming is a way to relieve the chronic pain I’ve suffered since I was assaulted, but more importantly, video games are awesome and fun.
The latest waste of my precious time on this planet is Guardians of the Galaxy, which captures the spirit of the movies and has the same main characters, but doesn’t use the voices or likenesses of any of those actors. Same basic premise: a squad of intergalactic rapscallions fly around in space, looking for stuff to steal and/or people to help. A bit of good, a bit of bad.
And yes, there is quipping and squabbling. Lots of quipping and squabbling. More quipping and squabbling than I’d prefer, frankly. The banter is one thing when you’re watching a two-hour movie, but when it takes 20-30 hours to finish a game…
But you get to run around as Star-Lord shooting aliens, and ordering Drax and Gamorra and Rocket and Groot around, and generally pretending to be a space pirate. It’s a good time.
Of course, it wouldn’t be Guardians of the Galaxy without a soundtrack of 20th Century radio hits, and this game gives you a bunch of ‘em. Toward the beginning of the game, as Star-Lord gets ready to leap into battle, his preparations are set to the sounds of the most ‘80s band ever:
(I’d forgotten how much their drummer looked like Tom Hanks. Everybody at school made fun of this video, but we liked the part where he stuck the pencil in his hair and then went bonkers on the drums.1)
There are a few dozen other ‘80s favorites on the soundtrack, and I assume at some point this game is gonna Rickroll me.
Marvel even hired a hair-metal band to record an entire new album as Star-Lord, a fictional ‘80s band whose name Peter Quill steals. It’s actually a pretty great album, if you can get over yourself and just enjoy some goofy butt-rock.
I’m a few hours in, and the Guardians game is fun so far. The combat takes some getting used to, and if you put all the cutscenes together it would probably be longer than an actual Guardians movie, but it really does make you feel like a Terran kid who got kidnapped by space aliens in the late ‘80s and became a happy-go-lucky galactic @$$hole. It’s a flarkin’ good time.
Oh, and all the voice actors are Canadian, so you’ll hear a lot of “Let get oot of here” and whatnot. More like Guardians of the Galax’Eh!
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