Thursday, 16th November, 2006

Why I Don't Write About Transvestism Much These Days, Really

tranny rant self

The short answer being: "I'm not angry enough".

The long answer being somewhat more complicated than that. Natch.

When I first started this weblog, back in (oh yeah) February 2002, there were specific things that I wanted to say. I'd spent a fair chunk of my life feeling that one of the core, intrinsic aspects of my life was shameful — something to be embarassed and guilty about. Something I shouldn't tell other people, apart from in that fanfare-like 'announcing' way — you know — the "There's something you shuold know about me. I'm a fucking pervert" thing.

You see, I'd felt that there was a level of stagnation within our community — a self-referential discussion that never branched out from its hallowed walls of closetedness — and it bugged me that a lot of the discussions that were going on (and therefore, conclusions that were being come to) were all shrouded from the 'reality' — which (I felt) they so sorely needed to be immersed in.

Much of the problems with my own acceptance of What I Am™ stems from an element of confusion — from boths sides of the debate. I felt that people just 'didn't understand me', and equally that those on my side of the the fence were being (quite frankly) arses in their self-ghettoising natures.

So I started to rant. And, if I might just pat myself on the back a little, I feel I've had some rather good rants over the years.

Granted, most of them involve me repeating myself continuously until I myself get bored with the theme, but I do feel that certain things that needed to be said have been said. And that once I find some way of categorising some of the discussions and minor revelations that have taken place on these dark pink light pink wine-headed- pages, then I'm/we're left with a genuinely useful set of resources that might serve as some kind of manifesto (Oh, that pun still kills me) for our community.

But, as I sit here right now, dressed (as is my idiom) in a black gothy number, drinking (as is my idiom) a glass of red, I'm struck by just how little things like "the acceptance of transvestism in the Twenty First Century", and "the perception of men in frocks these days" — and even "how transvestites are automatic jokes" (despite my promisings to regurgitate that rant a few days ago) — I'm struck by how little venom they conjure in me.

See, at one point, I'd be sat here right now, lamenting how some backward-looking Republican/Conservative dickwad had use the word "transvestite" in a disparaging way — but now?

...

There are things that are making me angry right now, obviously. I am, at heart, a (cute) bundle of bile that just happens to be wearing clothes that are more socially-prescribed to the 'other' gender.

But the clothes have very little to do with the rantage

I mean, I'm angry about wide-eyed incompetents who seem to stumble into every single techological innovation and bleat on about insipid benefits and seeming drawbacks without taking one single creative step for themselves.

I'm angry about large finacial instutions that always seem to favour other large financial institutions rather than being reasonable.

I'm angry about Stupid Bastard Vauxhall Corsas That You Might Meet On The A65 Who Seem Intent On Travelling At 40 Miles An Hour And Braking Every Time They See A Squashed Squirrel In The Road™.

(Sorry. I was making really good time tonight, until I got stuck behind Some Twat™)

But in terms of transvestism, you know, the only thing/group of people that are currently pissing me off are other trannies.

But, I'm afraid, I don't have the balls of (say) Becky to launch into a Naming Names™ rant about how bloody stupid some other trannies can be.

So yous'll just have to use your imaginations.

Have another drink

No, because that would be dangerous