A territorial struggle of sorts:

⚠️EXTREMELY GRAPHIC AND DISTURBING⚠️

A trans activist using the women’s bathroom slides his phone under the stall to film a woman.

These are the people who want to share a bathroom with your daughters. pic.twitter.com/T8NKAnK4Vk

— Libs of TikTok (@libsoftiktok) February 14, 2024

And remember, ladies, when a male bedlamite pushes his phone camera under an occupied bathroom stall in order to livestream to his admirers a woman who is unhappy about a male bedlamite’s presence in a ladies’ toilets – and when said bedlamite’s phone is kicked away and he then claims victimhood, specifically injury to his penis, which he mentions quite a lot – this is totally normal and nothing to worry about.

It’s just how things are now. Embrace all that progress.

A word of caution. The link immediately above contains graphic content.

Update, via the comments:

Mags notes our bedlamite’s livestreaming of his bathroom adventures, and of his victim, adding,

Well, quite. As a way to convince women that they’ve nothing to fear, that any concerns they might have are merely bigotry, and that you’re not at all unhinged and a danger… it does leave something to be desired.

Also, open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

Further to this, and lifted from the comments:

One of my favourite things about The Age Of Stupid is that we’re expected to find a man wearing women’s clothes either:

A. Immediately absolutely hilarious, what a laugh eh
B. Not remotely funny at all, how dare you

Depending entirely on what that man wants. pic.twitter.com/Ju9wBkvqd5

— Gareth Roberts (@OldRoberts953) September 25, 2023

The New Rules Of Pretending, illustrated here, aren’t entirely coherent, even if one were willing to play along. On the one hand, fat, screeching drag queens are supposedly comedic and a kind of jolly panto, something exaggerated and silly, and suitable for children. Something to make the kiddies laugh.

But on the other hand, dysmorphic men and autogynephiles, who are often difficult to distinguish from drag queens, are supposedly Beings Of Infinite Seriousness And Validity, and even a raised eyebrow can result in finger-wagging and accusations of hatred. And so the sight of a cross-dressing man is something that we must find both absurd and amusing, and, simultaneously, not at all funny.

It’s a tricky manoeuvre. I mean, do we chuckle or not?

And what about this sinewy nymph?

Answers on a postcard, please.

I was previously unfamiliar with the concept of bra euphoria:

Resulting, it seems, in hasty purchases and consequent discomfort. And so,

At which point, I should add that these bra-related dramas are from transgender Reddit, where passions run high, and agonies abound:

And,

And,

This latter detail is mentioned for the purposes of calibrating bra discomfort. I, for one, am learning things today.

Needless to say, a thread ensues, in which grumbles are aired regarding the need for repeated measurements, commission-based sales assistants, returns policies, underwiring, and the shortcomings of bra manufacturers, whose products are deemed wanting, on account of their generally being designed for the bodies of women.

Sadly, female sales assistants who find themselves helping strange men try on bras, repeatedly, did not participate in the discussion.

Update, via the comments:

I should also add that, in discussions of this kind, the term euphoria often has connotations of sexual arousal. Which raises the prospect of female sales assistants who find themselves helping strange men try on bras, repeatedly, while said men may be getting euphoric.

Not every sales assistant’s cup of tea, I should think.

Via.

Also, open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

Apparently, it’s a thing:

And because you want to know:

Not merely a woman. He is women.

Update: via the comments:

Mags notes this,

And replies,

Well, it is an odd thing to be proud of. A bit of a stretch, really. It’s not clear to me why autogynephiles should be entitled to pride any more than devotees of any other fetish. Should we applaud and affirm people who like to be spanked, or to wear nipple-clamps, or rubber hoods, or who like to visit schoolgirl sniff parlours? And what about those poor downtrodden members of the eproctophile community?

And yet there are activists who struggle to comprehend why ladies on the whole would rather not have their toilets and changing rooms invaded by porn-addled, cross-dressing misfits.

The kind of men who think that womanhood is ALL ABOUT THE STOCKINGS.

Via.

Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.

As readers may imagine, I do have some sympathy with this view:

I have no problem with my child’s teacher being gay.

I have a problem with them being incredibly strange and narcissistic about it.

It’s not because you’re gay that I don’t want my child around you, it’s because you think this is normal or appropriate behavior for a teacher. pic.twitter.com/3chE6L5Hr3

— Frank McCormick | Chalkboard Heresy (@CBHeresy) July 2, 2023

Note, in the background, the prominent reminder to the class – a countdown to the teacher’s birthday. Because, obviously, it’s all about him and acknowledging his fabulousness.

But then, it so often is.

Update, via the comments:

Mike D adds,

It has to be said, in terms of setting an example – a reference point for children of what a functional adult might look like – needy, narcissistic theatre isn’t exactly what one hopes for.

And yet.

It’s worth noting how rapidly, and seemingly unopposed, it’s become something of a norm for children to be entrusted to emotionally arrested men who think that prancing about in leggings and five-inch heels, and flapping paper fans – and looking “cute” in painted nails and make-up – are part of their job description. As if they were doing us a favour.

And so, we have children being taught by men who, in their thirties, are still buying blue and green hair dye, and who habitually film themselves miming to pop records, before uploading the results to TikTok in search of affirmation, not least from their own students.

Because, it turns out, what the children really need to learn is the importance of continual, flamboyant self-preoccupation, and the round-the-clock foregrounding of one’s “identity” and sexual inclinations, especially in office hours and among children. Along with the conceit that authenticity, being one’s “true self,” entails enacting a caricatured pantomime, a generic cartoon. And of course, the lie that the endless, tedious performance is being done for their benefit.

It is, however, curious how the men mouthing this claim most emphatically – about doing it for the children, to create a “safe space” – just so happen to like parading around the classroom in glitter, stilettos and clownish make-up, and just so happen to already have an extensive collection of rather tarty ladies’ shoes.

A coincidence, I’m sure.

Update 2:

Regarding the paragraph above, and Mr Hey-Kids-Look-At-My-Hooker-Shoes, Clam adds,

What’s remarkable is the obviousness of the lie. If you poke through chappie’s TikTok videos, it’s clearly all about him and what he wants. The children are just a pretext, a rhetorical shield. And it seems that his peers and employers are too cowed and complicit to acknowledge the obvious dishonesty.

Because objecting to narcissistic overreach – and the use of other people’s children as a captive audience – would be “homophobic,” “transphobic,” “right-wing,” etc. And so, our self-imagined hero, our champion of the downtrodden fetishist, is triumphant and boastful: “If we’re not pissing off the homophobes, we’re not doing our jobs,” says he.

And of course, the children are manipulated, dragged into his drama, made to browse his TikTok videos and read the comments, and made to side with him against any parent who might object.

To call it narcissism scarcely covers it.

Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.