Tranny Queer, Rebel Yell

The Artist D

The rebels have always been the attractive ones. The underdogs defying whatever status quo floats above ground. The Rebs against the Yanks. The Surrealists and the Realists. The Rebels vs. the Empire. The Gender Outlaws staring down the Gender In-laws. The underdog has always seemed far more delicious.

They tore down statues and totems. Not just these days, but throughout the many days of man, woman, and creature. The continual human addiction to destroy that of which they do not understand or enjoy. Disagreement has been spread like butter throughout the centuries. They march against the good and someone else marches against the bad. The good and the bad, the darkness and the light, the spark and the flame. No one seems to bend to accept the other side very well until the knife is at everyone’s throat and the bombs are about to drop. Then “this is just silly” and “let’s figure out a way to get along.” Until one day they do not, again.

It has always surprised me how society has to carefully analyze change before it allows it into its books of good or bad. Surprising since change is constant and we individually have it just as much as we collectively flaunt it. I saw it as a gay boy and then a trans person and then a gender queer outlaw outlier. I grew up in a 1980s town where a lot of people thought racism had faded and black was one with white. (Perhaps a delusion for my family or my town, knowing what we now know.) I read up on the history of continued race wars and wars in general. I saw a theme throughout all human battles over Being Different and they always seemed to be a waste of time (and sweat and blood and tears and. . . ). Therefore it shouldn’t be surprising that I was super surprised when normal society could not accept the “new” different kind of people, the LGBT.  It was surprising enough that they thought it was new.

As a kid I used to think, “Hadn’t we just been through this with people who happen to have different skin colors?” I was sure that humanity learned from that (if not everything else) that people are different inside and out. Specifically that there was nothing wrong with that and that allowing us to be would not — absolutely not — hurt who they were allowed to be. I was, of course, mistaken in my optimistic assumptions.

No matter what it is or who it is, it always seems wrong if it is change. As if any of our ideas are totally correct. We have had all of this time as humans to really think about the point. All of these decades and centuries have been given to each passing creature to really meditate on The Point. Yet we still have been too busy to get there. We just put the track on repeat and keep listening to the same old song, because we know that song. It’s always difficult to learn a new tune.

Then there is the spooky shadowy truth that there may be no point. Perhaps all the fighting is human nature (since it actually is) and the point is to be cosmic stew. The yin constantly fighting the yang. The snake always eating his or her own head. It’s just too bad that we can’t be peaceful stew instead of angry stew. Or is it? Stew is usually better when served hot.

To be continued. . .

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Tags: featured, statues, theartistd, tranny queer, Transgender

Category: Transgender Opinion