On Transgenderism

^{What is a woman?}

I originally meant to add this as a “short” disclaimer to my post dismantling the supposed scientific arguments in support of “gender theory,” but I have turned it into its own post so that I can stretch my legs as much as I need in order to make sure my words are as clear and unambiguous as possible.

As someone that has spent his entire adulthood digging into the nature of men and women, learning as much as I can from as many sources as possible, all to better understand why we interact the ways that we do, how our differences are complementary, or cause us to clash, it would’ve been easy to predict what I would say when I was met with that question many years ago:

“Do you believe transwomen are women?”

I feel a draft

Kept you waiting, huh?

That latest post just now, where I’m tearing into the “scientific” arguments for why you too must believe—and affirm—that “Transwomen Are Women!” (and maybe, possibly, also pretend that you don’t know what a woman even is) is actually a re-formatting of an old twitter thread of mine that I had saved on ThreadReaderApp.

The fact that it was an amalgamation of a bunch of tweets meant that I had to do quite a bit of grammatical fuckery in order to get my arguments to fit. It didn’t look as good as I wanted it to, but I just didn’t have the time to fix it.

…Then this stuff with the confirmation hearing happened, and I began seeing the same nonsense arguments on Twitter about why sex is some undefinable thing, making me think about that thread again. With actual time on my hands, I wondered where the hell I could post a reformatted version of my arguments, and that’s when I remember about this blog, bringing me back to you, dearest reader.

Amazing.

Half of the fight was just getting used to the changes here. But once I got it all sorted, and published the post, I went digging around and holy shit! I’ve got a bunch of unpublished posts in my drafts! 😂

In addition to all of this unfinished business, some of my views have obviously changed in the past several years (though probably not as much as you or I would expect). So, that should give me something to do if I get really bored and want to continue avoiding getting back to making art. (I’ve put that off for a long time and I can probably put it off for much longer without too much effort!)

In the meantime, leave me a line tellin’ me why you think I’m a blasphemous transmisogynist (whatever the hell that even means), and I’ll see y’all around!

– Jack Returns (?)

Sex & Insincere Sensibility

^{(A disclaimer for the sensitive, before you start)}

All of the hubbub about a certain Judge’s feigned inability to provide “a definition for woman” got me thinking about the 10,000th time that I had gotten into it with gender ideologues on the bird site.

I can’t remember how it started, but asserting that transgenderism is based on a failed theory invented by a sadistic pedophile got one of these ideologues to direct me to the video embedded below, which they claimed would disprove that sex is binary, and prove that transwomen really are “women.”

Spoiler Alert: The video does no such thing.

Below are my responses to the arguments and claims made in the video. It’s essentially every argument I’ve seen gender ideologues make to try to legitimize their false, destructive theories, all in one place…

A Challenge: Proclamation Of Recognition

(The following is a slightly modified version of a comment left in response to a blog post titled “An Open Letter From The Patriarchy“. Upon posting it I realized that their comments are moderated and, not wanting to leave it to chance, decided to publish it here as well.)

Entertaining. I would categorize this as “high fantasy”. Whoever penned this is incredibly creative. I give it a 10/10!

…I just hope that, for their own sake, no man takes this seriously.

“[T]he greatest trick the devil pulled was convincing the world that he didn’t exist.” A conveniently quoted old saying, because The Devil, in this instance, is woman and her power. This is something almost all women know. I believe the only women oblivious to their own power are Feminists, and even then, it’s only a very small fraction of their ranks. These plays at victimhood are indirect power-grabs, and men project uncharacteristic frankness onto women in believing that any meaningful number of them actually see themselves as victims.

I think women’s power is something all men recognize, at least subconsciously, and the classically boisterous masculine ego is but a defense mechanism (“Reaction Formation”) arising in response to that uncomfortable truth. Such a strong response betrays the male ego’s attempt to deny what it already knows…

But…do not take the above as an assertion of submission. On the contrary, simply stating what I have above is, on its own, a challenge to woman’s power, and if you cannot understand why, then you have a lot to learn…

– Jack The Abandoner

On Compliments

I was recently called on to help explain “negging“, and it reminded of the one time that I [purposely] negged a girl. I was going to share the whole story on Twitter, but stopped when I realized a crowed conversation with just 78 characters to spare per tweet wasn’t the right medium. So here we are.

Before I begin, some thoughts: “Negging”, like much of Game, requires a strong sense of social and situational awareness in order to be used effectively. It’s common for folk to read about these things, or to see them demonstrated once, and to then assume it’s this one thing, applied in exactly the same manner, by any man, in any situation, and with any woman. That’s an…autistic way of looking at it. A greater emphasis should be placed on the “artist” part of “pick up artist”. These aren’t things that can be deployed by any brute. A brush and paint does not make the artist. On with my tale…

During the Summer a couple of years back, my buddy “Duane”, which you first read about here (I know. I’m a horrible person), invited me out to the beach to “chill”. You know, just to catch up, have a few drinks, do some girl-watching? Yeah. Not so much. “Hogan’s Beach“, while on the beach, it isn’t quite the beach. It was more dance club than beach. There was a $10 cover fee to get in, we were given age-identifying wrist bands, and the dress code was…well, see the image above: Bikinis and high heels for the women, and whatever for the men. And did I mention that you couldn’t actually go for a swim? It was basically a couple of volleyball courts surrounded by a stage, several food and alcohol kiosks, and tables.

Now, Duane is someone that’s known me for the better part of a decade, and has seen and heard about several of my deeds. They way he loves putting it, is that my skill with women is like “Goku knowing that he could go Super Saiyan, but refusing to do so because it would make things too easy.” (Trust me, I try my best not to let it go to my head.) Well, on this day, he wanted a demonstration.

Fuck.

Conversations

Her: So, apparently [new boyfriend] heard me mumbling your name in my sleep last night. It’s a good thing I wasn’t moaning or anything, or he would’ve known it was a dirty dream.

Me:  Ok…so what was the dream about?

Her: Um, us having sex? Duh!

Me: Details, woman! What were we doing?

Her: Well, you had me bent over and you were pounding it from behind…

Me: (grinning)

Her: Oh, but your hair was cut short.

Me: See, that’s how I really know it was a dream…

Her: (laughing) Fuck youuuuuu!

Playing With Fire

My introduction to the term “Sperm Warfare” came by way of a book published in 1996, itself simply titled “Sperm Wars“. There’s dispute on whether sperm warfare is something that occurs with human sperm, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about. The most memorable parts of Sperm Wars are when the author, after describing deceitful reproductive strategies, would give color to them by adding short stories to demonstrate how these things can and do play out in the real world.

Today, while I continue speaking about a topic I started in a previous post, I’d like to tell you about the time a time that I came pretty close to consciously playing out one of Sperm Wars’ short stories.

On this night, while laying with Giovanna during our usual pre-fuck chat-and-stroke, she told me that her (then) boyfriend’s condom broke the night before, and that he came inside of her. For whatever reason, they didn’t get a morning after pill (Having bought many of the cursed things in my time, I think I know why: They cost 50 fucking bucks!), so she was worried she might end up pregnant, and really disliked the idea of having a baby with a guy that she was basically dating for financial reasons (she was not turned on by him in the slightest, and he was a minute man to boot). Knowing what I know about human reproduction, I was aware that her getting pregnant wasn’t such a sure thing, and thus saw an opportunity…

So I leaned over her, placed my palm around the side of her neck, looked her in her eyes, and in a too-serious tone asked, “You know what I should do to you?”

“What?”