I Don’t Care

I don’t care. That’s right, I really don’t care.

I don’t care…who says they are what on the internet; to me, it’s way more important if I simply like them or not and what they claim to be or not be is unimportant if they are an interesting human being and can construct a sentence that holds my attention.

I don’t care…if Autumn Sandeen continues to refer to Mike Penner as Christine and violates the GLAAD Media Reference Guide by referring to someone opposite of how they publicly preferred to “identify” because everyone can see through her transparency.

I don’t care…if instead of focusing on Federal legislation to recognize post op transsexual’s rights the trans activists instead get bent out of shape at Saturday Night Live and Craig Ferguson’s late night talk show for I know that those same people will find fault in someone even if they have to invent an issue.

I don’t care…if Zoe Brain, a father with XY chromosomes claims to be intersex and have had a spontaneous sex change because even if that is true those who are intersex are no more likely to want to change their assigned sex than anyone else on Earth…a transsexual by any other name is still a transsexual.

I don’t care…if Monica Roberts thinks she is not a racist, she probably thinks she is not a bigot either, but it is amusing to hear her continued race based remarks while knowing she doesn’t.

I don’t care…that so many who claim to be transsexuals post photos of themselves before their sex change and yet seem obsessed with proudly sharing their pre-transition life with the world in spite of simultaneously lamenting how terribly painful things were before they transitioned.

I don’t care…that the transgender love to demonize me, my blog, and others who hold a similar view because we can instantly recognize a transvestite when we see one…so can everyone else.

I don’t care…if someone accuses me of having privilege and don’t feel obligated to jump on every bandwagon that comes along simply because there is always someone who has both more and less privilege than another; there’s nothing wrong with privilege.

I don’t care…if someone screws the system and then claims legitimacy through a loophole; if they can live with that then so can I…they’re the delusional one, not me.

I don’t care…that some are upset that they are not recognized as female because they act, look, talk, walk, write, appear, argue, and behave in every way as a male while at the same time stating they should not have to act, look, talk, walk, write, appear, argue, and behave as a female to be perceived, accepted, and recognized as one, in fact I think it is hilariously funny.

I don’t care…if someone claims to be a trans woman instead of just a woman for it is their problem if they want to relegate themselves forever to something less than or other than just a female.

I don’t care…if many of the transgender despise the gender binary yet insist on belonging to it by supposedly transitioning to either male or female while demanding to be referred to as one or the other gender.

I don’t care…if those who have recently transitioned feel that special legislation will smooth the edges of their life for they don’t realize that any success they may have with it lies in their ability to be perceived as what they think they are; just saying they are doesn’t make them so.

I don’t care…if some of the transgender think a man can become pregnant and that a woman can have a penis because that is so absurd and ridiculous it makes them appear totally out of touch with reality to anyone but some, not even all, of their supporters.

And…

And, I really don’t care…what issues Donna Rose is having with her travel arrangements.

None of this stuff affect me, and I don’t care…if the transgender thinks it does whether I like it of not…it doesn’t.

So, when one reads what is written here on my blog about some of the things I write above don’t think I really give a rat about them.  What would the world be without the weird and unusual?  Lighten up, I say.  All things seek equilibrium.  If any of the things above directly affect anyone reading this, then that person might need to reassess.  In many ways, watching the gender rebels is a lot like being in the audience of a carnival sideshow.

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