Kabaklaan, the way of the bakla, might not be perfect, but it is kind, supportive and enabling. It helps sex-atypical boys to come to terms with their special sexuality and therefore their gender, in a gentle, even loving way.
A feminine boy will go to the volleyball court and meet the baklas there; but they will not seduce him or try to rape him. They will befriend him, if he is as they are. They will defend him against bully-boys, from his older brothers and their friends, putting their arms around him. They will soothe his hurts and reassure him when he cries. There is no pressure or compunction in kabaklaan, but if a boy wants to learn, then he will find teachers – and note: teachers, not pedicators.
A recurring problem in researching homosexual ladyboys and transvestites in south-east Asia, indeed across Asia, is in understanding the effect of culture. It is quite clear the US-based researchers make little or no allowance for this, even though Blanchard has mentioned the importance of culture.
First we must recognise that the USA is the ‘outlier of an outlier’ and to try to extrapolate findings from there to the rest of the world is an exercise in sheer futility. Humility is not something often found amongst USicans, but in this case the absence is embarrassing.
So let’s describe how things actually are in southeast Asia. This description will be valid, with minor variations, across the region.
‘Tailcalled’ is the name by which a particularly nasty form of internet lowlife goes. He brought himself to my attention again recently, this time by challenging me on Twitter, with his bogus theorising. I ran his ass off my YouTube a couple of years ago for doing the same thing.
The funny thing is, we don’t even know if ‘Tailcalled’ is male or female. Looking at the image he uses of himself, I’d hazard that either he is actually a female with a weird identity fetish or that is not his picture.
‘Tailcalled’ likes to make up phoney ‘surveys’ with no credible methodology at all and then pretend that this makes him (her) an authority of the stature of Blanchard, Bailey, Lawrence and others. (Note that I do not include myself; I am merely a reporter.) In fact, ‘Tailcalled’ is not an authority of any kind, but it is clear, since he does have sycophants, that the weak-minded do not realise this.
‘Tailcalled’; purports to be a ‘fan of psychometry’ without, apparently, realising that psychometry, a dubious discipline in any case, depends entirely on the quality and context of both the questions and the samples.
For several years now I have not been writing about Islam much. Partly this was because my interest was elsewhere. However the recent murderous attacks by Hamas terrorists against Israeli civilians, many of them children and even babies, and the even more recent atrocity in Mindanao, where ISIS has resurfaced, have forced the issue. None of us can stand by and watch this demonic genocide without protest. Islam must be defeated.
Israel occupied the Gaza Strip and the West Bank after the 1967 War and had maintained control, although it had mistakenly allowed Hamas and Hizbollah to establish Islamic schools within these areas. In 2006, however, Israel decided, on the quid pro quo of peace, to return control of these areas to the Arabs. Hamas was voted into power in Gaza and immediately abolished elections and democracy, saying they are ‘un-Islamic.’ (Which speaks volumes in itself.)
Through its ruthless control of the civil state and also through its teachings in schools, Hamas has turned Gaza into a breeding ground for the most appalling, evil terrorists in the world. Demonic genocide was in their hearts and it was only a matter of time before they acted.
Sniff! She died. She’s been with me these last five years, and she’d been around a good few years before we met. She was like a female character out of a Springsteen lyric, kinda worn and raggedy, but she stuck with me through thick and thin. I don’t know how many films or repeats of TV series I’ve watched with her, or how many words I wrote with her, but I do know the paint was gone from most of her keys at the end…I did explain it was my old laptop that died, didn’t I?
My neighbour was given this with a load of other bits and bobs. She thought it was a toy, but closer examination made me disagree. For a start, it was quite clearly a gun of some order, but it didn’t have any kind of handle. There wasn’t a conventional trigger either.
It might have been a toy cannon, but it didn’t have a carriage. Yet opening it up revealed that it was chambered to take a real twelve-bore shotgun cartridge. Plus it’s made of very heavy cast iron. It’s just not like a child’s toy at all.
Surely it is a nasty, dirty, smelly procedure best consigned to the bucket of history? Surely digital is cheaper, easier, faster, more modern? And worst of all, film is analogue—well that’s just not right.
Tomato plants? Well, spring in France this year was the worst I can remember, and so far summer has not been much better. By this time I should be on first-name terms with the community of lizards that live in my courtyard, but this year, hardly a hello. They’re all still hiding.
Mind you, it’s not been so bad for all the critters in the yard. My pet hate, les limaces, our delightful Burgundian slugs, are positively thriving. I mean, these ones are not shy, they don’t even try to hide, and they’re bright orange anyway. Maybe it’s a warning that they taste disgusting. I’ll let someone else find out. What I do know is they like my tomato plants. Continue reading “Slugs and Snails and Tomato Plants?”
It is now over twenty years since the fall of the Berlin Wall; for many young people, the Cold War, of which it was the most compelling symbol, is no more than a history lesson. In my desk here I have a small piece of concrete, with paint on, which was recovered from that wall and sold as a tourist trinket. It is perhaps the most telling one I have.
Our children do not, as those of my generation did, live in daily fear of being blown to pieces by atomic bombs or dying an agonising death from radiation sickness. They do not walk into their schools to find posters saying “Better Dead Than Red” on the walls, nor do they crowd around flickering television sets alongside their anguished parents, watching as Kennedy drew his line in the ocean, and curled his finger around the trigger of nuclear Armageddon. And for this we should all be very, very thankful indeed. No child should have to live with nightmares like those. Continue reading “The Realpolitik of Islamism”
In recent days I have come under attack from Autogynephiles again. The fact that they chose to wait until I was weakened by the tragic death of Sam, whom I loved and had supported for six years, should tell you about these people.
I have to say that in my opinion, nearly all Western Autogynephiles are thoroughly nasty characters. Whether they are invading women’s toilets to jerk off to the sound of them pissing, waving their wangs around in women’s changing rooms, unfairly competing against women in sports, beating the crap out of them in the boxing ring or any of the other activities so redolent of the Western Autogynephilic rats, these people are despicable.
So let’s be clear: no ‘transwoman’ is actually a woman; no such a person can ever give birth. That is not the only definition of ‘woman’ I know but, certainly in the Southeast Asian context, it is definitive. Western Autogynephilic rats are not even transsexual, they are glorified crossdressing male fetishists. A significant number of them are evil predators and I will expose one here, through the communications he had with a younger, self-confessed but non-transvestic (yet) Autogynephilic rat.