Christopher Rufo on self-flattering fantasies:

Andy Ngo shares a bedlamite horror story:

Frankly, I’m still processing the words trans therapist. On Twitter, Mr Ngo adds, “As I dig into more disturbing criminal cases involving extreme violence or child sex abuse, I’m finding many of the suspects are trans but are never reported as such by press, sheriff’s offices, or prosecutors.”

And Amy Wax on ‘equity’ versus competence:

In other we’re-letting-the-mentally-ill-teach-your-children news:

The teacher in question, a dysmorphic man named Ashlee Renczkowski, is apparently prone to “phases of depression,” and was, in his words, “having bad thoughts.” And hence of course the comments about shooting the children in his care, grades six through eight, presumably with the three firearms in his possession. The ostensible cause of this rather severe mood swing was a social media post in which unnamed people were “talking negatively” about Mr Renczkowski’s sexuality and professed womanhood.

And any reservations about Mr Renczkowski are, clearly, unfounded.

When not “feeling cute and beautiful” and exploring the possibilities of a “zero-depth vaginoplasty,” Mr Renczkowski boasts of “giving students a safe place.”

Some ironies are just a little too on-the-nose.

Mr Renczkowski has since been removed from the school and his weapons confiscated.

And in other, entirely unrelated news – when a sociology researcher discovers the wrong kind of things:

Readers are invited to guess the area of research before clicking the link.

From the barren North:

Said the evil person.

Via social media, Mr Dolatowski has aired his view that “Trans women aren’t a threat if I use the bathroom” – meaning, one assumes, that other dysmorphic men aren’t a threat to him – while also insisting, “I know I’m not a threat to anyone.” Except, of course, 10-and-12-year-old girls in supermarket toilets. Much like the ones Mr Dolatowski filmed and sexually assaulted.

Regarding those who object to the presence of such creatures in ladies’ toilets,

Readers will note that both the Telegraph and the court refer to Mr Dolatowski as if he were in fact a woman – not a mentally ill, paedophilic man. I’m sure the parents of the molested children were thrilled by the consequent air of unrealism and unhappy farce.

Update, via the comments:

Regarding the paragraph above, Min replies, “Adding insult to injury.”

Well, indeed. It must be quite surreal, and presumably upsetting, to hear lawyers and officials pretending that a 6’5” man – the 6’5” man who recently molested your child in a supermarket toilet – is somehow, magically, a woman. One would hope that lawyers, judges, and the other occupants of a courtroom – and possibly, at a stretch, even journalists – were interested in reality, in establishing facts. Not affirming some unhinged and misleading fantasy.

Via Mr Worstall.

A question regarding this, and many others like it:

I wonder whether this absurdity is going to continue indefinitely, stretching into the future, beyond my lifetime. Or will it peter out, like any fad, and then be remembered with some embarrassment?

Via Karl.

Consider this an open thread.

Via Mr Muldoon, a tale of what sounds like mid-life contrivance:

Imagine the fun.

The contriver in question is Amanda Elend, a scrupulously progressive woman whose list of causes is extensive, if somewhat predictable. She tells us,

Ah, the basis of any sound marriage.

Coinciding, oddly enough, with the big four-oh:

The idea of having an identity – one with boutique status and complications that have to be danced around in an affirming manner – is terribly important to Ms Elend. And as we’ve seen, self-definition is very in right now, and quite competitive. Plus, there’s so much potential for chiding and rituals of atonement:

Ms Elend’s children, aged six and nine, were also informed of their mother’s elevation to the role of Fascinating Being:

The word husband is used intermittently. Sometimes it’s partner.

You see, every small child wants a mom whose new pronouns have to be memorised, and who reveals that their family is suddenly conditional, one option among many. A mom who, in middle-age, is still on a journey of self-absorption – sorry, self-discovery – and who could at any moment become a radically different, and altogether more fashionable, kind of entity. Quite what a six-year-old is supposed to do with such information, beyond feeling confused or insecure, is unclear.