Identity Politics

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When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a black man.  I also wanted to be blind, because: Geordi LaForge.

When I was seven years old, I wanted to be a little boy.  I called myself ‘Mark’, and my parents let me get a butch haircut and dress in flannel.  (Don’t ask me to explain their reasoning.)

By age eight, I was some kind of genderless alien from the far reaches of our solar system.  (Not joke; birthday cake read “Happy Birthday Zoing”.)

By age nine, I had transitioned back to female because I wanted to be a tattooed biker chick named Skull.  But the only person who actually called me that was a second grader named T-Bone.  (Also not joke.)

I eventually decided I wanted to be an Amazon.  I just didn’t want to suffer the company of other females.

So if Cory Booker chooses to identify as Spartacus, Clarence Thomas needs to BACK THE FUCK OFF. 😤

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FACEBOOK: Epic Dream

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Epic dream last night:

Demonic creatures of mercurial morphology fond of cutting themselves with glass had infiltrated The City. My objective was to track them down and eliminate them, armed only with some type of derringer (which might not even have been loaded), explosive sunglasses (evidently multi-use), and stilletto (literally, stilletto) heels. My only allies were a grappling gun and some big Amazon of a Dredd-style traffic Judge who took a while to realize that The Law had bigger problems than my weaving a stolen hoverbike between lanes.

Think Ada Wong vs. The Ghosts of Mars in Silent Hill, peppered with bits of Judge Dredd and Les Miserables.

The weird part is that these sado-masochistic demons communicated in what I took to be Russian. But I suppose that’s what comes of reading Tom Clancy before bed.