i just read this article from The New Yorker:
newyorker.com/magazine/2014/08/04/woman-2, about the deep-rooted enmity between two “progressive” political movements - the “transgender rights” movement, which requires that all elements of society and culture now bend a knee to the total inclusion of people who identify as the opposite sex (or subjecting them to the risk of a MoveOn petition), and the radical feminist movement, which sees transgenderism as insidious male privilege asserting its rights to steal the mantle of womanhood, or wymynhood, or something.
This has led to the bizarre spectacle of radical feminist women who consider themselves part of the far Left being subjected to far Left boycotts, loss of speaking engagements, and vandalism for not being Far Left
enough anymore, because they do not consider “transgendered” women as real women.
It has even led to conflicts in Satan’s abortion-mill industry:
This must be confusing even to the Father of Lies.
Aside from the very unChristian feelings of
schadenfreude the whole situation causes, the article made me feel…really, really
old, actually. There is a whole new alien vocabulary one has to learn to understand the jargon that is used in discussing these conflicts: “cisgendered,” which is anyone who is not transgendered (i.e, those who used to be called “normal”); TERFs, which are “Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminists,” a derogatory transgender term for those radical feminists (or “RadFems”) who do not consider men who are transgendered women as real women (and who are now frequently the targets of on-line death threats by some transgendered people); “Detransitioners,” who are those who considered themselves transgendered but now no longer do, and are reverting back to their original sexual identity, and who are considered “survivors” of genital mutilation by the RadFems, a definition which enrages anyone who is not cisgendered; and non-gender specific pronouns now in vogue at liberal colleges, by which students can elect to be identified as “ze,” “ou,” “hir,” “they,” or even “it"; and “womyn-born womyn” (i.e.," women").
I feel like Buck Rogers, who fell into suspended animation and who then awoke in a new and unfathomable future. I know that to grow old is to become a stranger in one’s own country, but this is ridiculous.
Does anyone else feel like moving to the most remote corner of the nation and hiding in an anchorite’s cave in the hopes the nation comes to its senses?