This is a response to purplesagefem’s response to the rest of my questions. [Content warning for the linked post: includes a paragraph about Fallon Fox misgendering her repeatedly and emphatically and accusing her of various horrible stuff, with a link to a whole post in that vein. Be cautious and take care of yourself.] It got long again!
Purplesagefem answered four of the questions I posed in my previous post. This post is part response and part follow-up questions to her answers.
It has taken me a while to write and become horribly long – whoops. I kept going back to edit and re-edit and delete and regret the deleting and rewrite the deleted parts from memory as well as possible and rethink and re-edit again, and I’m still not happy and probably missed something, but I don’t think another rewriting would help much and I need the rest of my life back. I also didn’t go back to give the latest version another editing pass, so if you find any errors, clutch them tightly and keep them close to your heart while you whack your way through the rest of the eldritch abomination which is this post until you can finally unfold your stiffened fingers to drop them into a comment.
During and after writing my last post, I spent a little time browsing the blog it came from and reading the Manifesto of the Gender Rebels posted there. It left me with some questions, and the blogger herself, purplesagefem, has kindly invited me to ask them. Other TERFs, please feel free to respond as well!
And right on the tails of that, a caveat: I do ask you to be considerate when using gendered language in your responses. Please be as precise and neutral as possible – what I’ve read so far was often hard to parse in terms of clarity and caused a lot of discomfort. If you do not wish to use trans people’s preferred pronouns and gendered terms, please default to gender-neutral expressions. I have tried to do the same in my questions. (I might have messed up some because I don’t have a good sense of TERF-approved vocabulary, though.)
Yesterday (or maybe a few days ago by the time I post this, who knows) I came across this post via someone else’s answers. Reading it, a lot of the questions seemed extremely familiar, and since I am a trans man, I also felt qualified to answer, so I decided to do just that.
A caveat first: there are lots of trans people in the world, and our experiences of and opinions about gender vary wildly. Some other trans people will feel represented in what I write here and some will not, some will agree with some of what I write here and some will disagree with various amounts of vehemence.
But anyway, here goes! (Copying the list over made all the A’s and i’s change into numbers. I don’t know how to fix that and it’s probably not worth the effort to find out, so I won’t bother.)
Once again, it turns out that consistent blogging actually involves a decent amount of work and self-discipline.
This is not horribly surprising, since exactly these requirements also killed off my previous attempts at blogging, but it is somewhat disappointing that it also applies to this blog, which was intended as a really low-quality, low-effort blog right from the beginning rather than a blog filled with thoughtful, in-depth analyses incorporating lots of facts and citing all sources. I figured that since I spend a considerable amount of time navel-gazing anyway, writing some of that down and posting it would not take much more effort.
[Monday Music is a new feature: a more-or-less random song/piece of music with a terribly insufficient description of the music and what impression it gives me.]
I found this piece of medieval music via tumblr today and gave it a try because I’ve had some good experiences with medieval music in the past. It’s a monks’ chant, male voices only without instruments to accompany them, echoing just as you’d expect in a church.
It’s a piece of music that is slow and heavy, solemn and mournful, notes shivering in the dark air, dust dancing in the few rays of light piercing it. It’s a tone held inhumanly long beneath the leading voice rising lonely and serious above it. It’s vowel after vowel, and then curls of consonants at the end like an afterthought, other voices joining the leading one just then as if they had just woken up. It’s voices rising together, climbing higher and louder than before, fervent, before sinking again.
It’s a single moment of silence, all the voices gone quiet, before some of them take up the next word a fraction of a second before the bass line starts again. It’s the leading voice tearing away from the others, higher, bordering on the edge of desperation, reining itself in a little just to break away again and stay above the others for a short time before falling back for good, sinking into the others like mud, quieted.
It’s a single voice taking up the tune above the bass cry, only later joined by a few others, and then suddenly by the whole choir, going higher and faster together, splitting and joining back together repeatedly on single notes, and then ending together too sudden, leaving me waiting for the next note for a long moment.
The second result in my assertiveness research was a shortened version of a whole chapter on assertiveness training on another site, which has 15 chapters on different topics in total. Chapter 13 is titled “Methods for Developing Skills”, with a subsection called “Assertiveness Training“. (The title of the subsection is at the bottom of page 17, but the link leads to page 18, because that’s where the actual content starts. Sloppy layouting.)
As with the first result, I’ll quote sections and comment on them as I go along. (If you only read this blog post, your view of the quoted site will be negatively biased, though – I quote things to nitpick, not to agree.)