Why monster M. D., was more than Just a Monster

Yesterday, here on G+ Trans YouTubers Community (owned by Grishno, and largely led by Erica Ravenwood, and my being so far the only outspoken FtM member)–; I had meant to say that although for most of M. D.’s time in chat here the preceding two days (M. D. standing for Megalus Doomslayer, a sadistically, derangedly, combatively, and seethingly acting YouTuber who tied-up the whole chat-room from late on June 7 to around 6 P.  M.  on June 8, 2016–;) I thought they had been a troll or even a shill, until they finally started to open-up to Erica about their personal crises, which is something trolls (probably) didn’t do. As severe as their impact-here had been, the proper assessment of the event and the actor (M. D.) behind the event, is that this event is much more relevant and significant to the transgender community than whatever disruption or nuisance that person caused here–. Most of us want to shake this off or smooth our hair “in-the wake-of,” the “unfortunate” “disruption–;” but instead, I treat this as a crucial snapshot-in-time–; of a presumable widespread reality that is all over modern transdom–: Depersonalizing Disillusionment, as the long seismoid ocean-wave from the immemorial history of trans culture and industry-interface piles-into a tsunami at the shore, or like an especially long, 400 mph train derailing to crumple itself ten cars high, into a bank of high-rises. This crisis, which I would prefer to label as a horror–; has been coming straight-at both the rest of the trans community, and the rest of society–; for the past 60 years–; yet no-one has acknowledged any of the many conspicuous warning signs–; preferring as-always to play conversation-derailment patty-cake with the other party at each turn–:

“Ah, I’m Transgender–:”

“No, you’re not–: What you are is Confused–: Your ‘Move (sic),’ –!”

“You can’t keep just-snubbing all of us forever–; the press is in-on it, now!”

“Oh-my-god; we’ve got to toss those losers a crumb, to appease society that we aren’t as heartless as our extant stance has depicted-us–: We’ll let just a token-few of them through the gate, and that should quench even whatever sympathy cis-society ever had for these wretches; ha-ha–!”

“They make it a game. So here’s how to ‘win,’ ‘sometimes,’ .”

“More of them have made it through even our gate, than we planned.” “And now, they’ve got a battering-ram. We’d better do more P. R., and make it a little-easier again.

“It’s still hard–! The rest of you need to know that! If you ain’t ready to run their gauntlet–; you ain’t transgender–; you’re just a poser–; and you need to stay-closeted–!”

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Somewhere more-locally, the following-thread began here–: “Listen-Up–! You ain’t fooling anybody with your clownish closeted act–! You’re mispronouning yourself, in your Stockholm-Syndrome and PTSD. Stop it–. You’re not the gender you were born. You’re the other one. Abandon even your last-pretense of pretending. Please.

Wow.  I didn’t even know what any of those things meant.  I wonder if what they seemed to have-been saying possibly could have been right–?  Was there ever a time when even we actually were supposed to–; not-merely “invited” to, have come-out of the-closet–?  (And, even if I dare-to, (meaning of-course, the rest of the way–; since what there remained of my even-thencloseting–;” was analogous to a the head of the baby upon-whom somebody still has time on-whom not to finish that partial-birth abortion.  Your baby is already 80% out.  Let it come-out the rest of the way, huh?  (This is not an attack on partial-birth abortion, if you are a supporter of it–; it just seemed like a particularly-apt analogy, and frankly, partial-birth abortion is kind of mean)–; did I at this stage really know how to start coming-out the rest of the way–?

“Are these bank tellers being much more Politically Correct than I ever expected, proper-pronouning me–; or do I actually still pass, in my middle-age–?”

“Why can’t I find anything accessible about transgender on YouTube, in all my 11 years of looking–?”

“Oh-Shit–! Here it all Is–! But why were they hiding it all so-long–?”

“Whoa-Whoa-Whoa-Whoa–! Where are all my Trans Brothers and Sisters–?” I don’t see any of either my elders nor my age-peers anywhere on any of these channels–. In-fact, I don’t see anyone within a generation-and a-half of myself. It looks like I’m living in NO-TRANS LAND–! Here all by-myself–!”

“But look at who is out and trans–: They’re all either living in a sort of “submarine” or protected bunker, in a college-dorm–;” or they haven’t left-home yet–. It’s just like that thing about the “black hole.” Those who are outside it can’t see into it. Those who are inside it, will never come back. Or some permutation on that. Okay, we can see them, but they can’t see us. We can see all of both of our Enemies clearer than we want to see them. But they can’t see them. It’s laser-clear from every syllable that they post, that they do not see one-iota of the street-law that rules (with an iron fist) out-here–! We can’t tell them that–; because their solipsism makes them think that what they are is as-it is-everywhere and has always-been–! In-fact, they dismiss everything–; that is even the slightest-bit different–.”

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Returning to this thread–:

“It’s still hard–! The rest of you need to know that! If you ain’t ready to run their gauntlet–; you ain’t transgender–; you’re just a poser–; and you need to stay-closeted–!”

The rules at that time, still put many of us even deeper into the extant closet, making us more invisible and more unconnecting.

The transitioned were a tiny, elite corps. The changes in the rules resulted in decreasing delays for accessing transition. Someone noticed how much better it worked as the ages got younger. That’s when one of the endo doctors snorted, “Well, DUH–! If it were up to US we’d do every single transition before puberty–!

So what do you have, then–? A still very-small handful of very soldier-ish (sorry both ways, Erica (Ravenwood)–; as both a member of that transitioning generation and a literal armed-services member), old-school transitioners who have been socialized to view transitioning as the definition of transgender–; A few people who finally named the elephant in the room about the physiological optimum time to transition–; but who happened to be doctors (both the people who performed transition (industry), and the people cis-society listened-to without-question (institution))–. And, probably a million other transgender people who were untransitioned, socialized never to have expected-to–; and who either were heavily structuring our lives around passing at least “recognizably,” or closeting altogether (and, as statistics show–; also generally not coping with it).

And which group did society listen to–? The tiny minority who were telling them their unemancipated kids needed to transition right then in order to be “transgender–;” or the million of us who were all told to STFU–; For-Life–?

That’s-Right–: The Tiny Minority–; at the expense of the literal Silent Hyper-Majority–; of living transgender people–; who also were the social veterans of the reality of nonaccessible transitioning, and prohibitive and universal transphobia. As well as people old enough to be mature, logical, and articulate. We’re your uncles-and-aunts, and great-uncles and great-aunts.

But you don’t-know that–; because the same people now barking for “your” “liberation” gagged us and put us in the closet for 40 years the last 16 of which you spent here alive. If this were only “our” problem, we might not talk about it here–; but since we are the only living people born transgender who have gone through puberty, matriculated school, fledged, and spent our lives experiencing transphobia, and conducting research and just learning how to negotiate and communicate respectfully as just adult people regardless of whether we were cis or trans–; you have both have no role-model that’s any closer to how you were born than your own generally-cisgender parentsaunts-and-uncles, or grandparents–; and these cisgender elder-relatives, also lack the trans-issue backgrounds to enable even the maturity or adulthood that they obviously share even with us, to equip them to be effective listeners or advisors about the transgender identity experience.  But since we have been identity-erased to you and gagged from bespeaking our experience, you are cut-off from having the benefit of identity-community elders whether as role-models or as adults sharing your experience–; and it’s the reason you’re all stranded in a “Langoliers“-like, un-grounded socio-cultural limbo like this kid in this video.  (Even the author realizes that this is a so-called “extreme-case–;” but the case is chosen to highlight the typology in-order more swiftly to make-the-point.  Use it the way one uses a Cartoon.  Please only bother watching this video from 1:30 to 1:40–:  The mean remarks of this video’s host are far even worse than anything even the frighteningly robot-like or smarmy kid in his clips is doing, of course–). A hazing-like hyper-malleability and indoctrinatability analogous to what might have become-induced in Patty Hearst when she was (in her case, it was deliberately done to her, of-course; and of course therefore much worse, but the example is for analogy only) in the captivity of the Symbionese Liberation Army terrorist group.  And because of the factors responsible for our being masked and gagged, there’s nothing we could have done to have prevented this, and no, you’re all not going to “be-okay–;” and neither will further generations of kids born-trans, because there will be other interdictions between yourselves and them that will dwarf those that denied us the option of extending any help to you.

Neo would gasp at a “matrix” like this one–!

A man who wrote children’s books for my Dad’s generation still published them into mine. Dr. Seuss wrote “The Sneetches,” about a monkey who built a mechanized clinic for tattooing flightless island rails who were ostracized for not being born with an elite birthmark. When the birthmarked rails saw the counterfeit birthmarks, he built another one to take their birthmarks off. An arms-race ensued with the same rails repeatedly having tattoos removed or reapplied until they all exhausted all their finances, whereupon the monkey left with all their money, and nobody remembered who initially had the birthmarks.

That was “The Sneetches.”

That’s what this is.

A panicked, desperate race to win a mark of social acceptability, in this case, before an unreasonable deadline.

We’re letting the medical industry insist we do this before puberty (or at least during it–;) while we can’t overrule our parents until well after that time (and many of us cannot do it even since then, because of insurance, expenses, and other things that aren’t well discussed–;)

I didn’t like the character who was doorbashing us yesterday either–; nor do I agree with their (I read them as male–; and I’m switching to him for them)–; precepts for terrorizing us yesterday–; I think it characterized him as a punk of the nth magnitude–; but not to see beyond that–; to the actual forces that created this kind of despair at not boarding the bandwagon at this time–; is to feign obtuseness and is disingenuous–.

We’ve created Lord-of the-Flies / Hitler Youth / The Lost Boys/Girls–; through  Silencing two generations socialized never to expect Transition.  Telling half a generation that they would also spend their lives closeted and would self-destruct unless they strong-armed their shelter-owning parents into letting or enabling them to tackle a resistive, medical/legal gatekeeping system, to get aggressive medical treatments that few if any people their parents’ ages either got, or probably even knew about.

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We’ve all seen 65-foot trees that got topped at 20 feet by lightning, how the re-growth trunk is 1/30 the area of the top where it broke-off. However aggressive or obnoxious anyone-here thinks I am now–; didn’t know me when I was M. D.’s age–. I haven’t even aged well. Some of my nicknames were “Killer,” “Monster,” and “that Gorilla over-there.” There are parts, of the experience of being this kind of a person over the course of the years which M. D. indicated was their age, that are indescribable to a person who either has never attained that status, or who has been injured out of it. Yeah, this kid IS every-bit the monster we see them to be. Yet he/they sees tons and kilotons of stuff that the rest of us either can’t see anymore, or never will see–. And it all was burning-up right in front of all of our eyes–. He/they got trapped in the middle of a Comedy-of-Errors–; which–; like all Comedies-of-Errors–; comes from the two-sides refusing to listen to either the other side–; or to a party that’s just caught-in the-crossfire–. If people like me, socialized my whole 42-year post-puberty life that I’d never transition–; would have been able to talk to someone like M. D. before he/they got surrounded by, and put in a windowless echo-chamber of Tumblr and YouTube, laser-pumped by unopposed voices (because they were the “doctors,” of course) saying “Transition must be rushed (or presumably abandoned, whether-or-not they actually come-out or say this–;) it’s possible that he/they might have-gotten at-least just enough of a countering toehold on reality, NOT to have slid-over the cliff into thinking he had to abandon everything to transition-now OR-DIE–!”

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