one year later

when it happened, june 12th 2016, i was So Overcome that i just–could not.

i was going to write a little piece on how i felt about the matter, having been alive during the largest mass shooting in the history of the nation (a HATE CRIME of all things), but I Could Not.

it was too much.

it is still too much, seeing as i have been predisposed since february, time having lost all semblance of meaning.

BUT

i still exist.

that is important to remember, i think.

the community still exists too.  we were not wiped out by one selfish act of terror, now were we?  no.  we are made far sterner than some would have us think.

i may pose my thoughts on this matter in more detail later as i am barely awake and just half-past dead on the level of feeling, but i want to leave some sort of inspiring word.

despite what the united states government may say, it is still Pride Month.  we celebrate it because of June 28, 1969: the day that started the Stonewall Riots, one of the first demonstrations of our pride.  it was a literal and actual riot, an act of rebellion.  today it feels sorta distilled from those virulent days, but there are still people that do exist that would rather see us dead.

that is beyond sad to me, the fact that there are people that do not know me that want to kill me.  it’s hard to imagine such a feeling.  even I have trouble imagining it.

in spite of all this, i carry on.  i take my pride flag, beginning to be a ratted and torn rectangle of fabric, to events.  i still try to demonstrate, protest, speak my mind in public, and be an activist.  i persist despite what people think or feel.

do you think Marsha P Johnson and Sylvia Rivera cared how people thought when they participated and likely sparked the events at Stonewall?  for the people of their community, perhaps they cared.  they didn’t care about how the police mistreating them felt.  not at all.  and i don’t care either.

i do not care what the dissenters and haters think of me.  you should not care either.

you should be proud of your existence.  you still exist!

this may seem like a rambly diatribe (and it is–i may clarify my thoughts later after being awake longer) but there is still something important here.

the opposition wins when you care what they think and act on it.  do not care what they think.  just be!  be what you want to be, not what they want you to be.

remember the forty-nine that did not have to die because they were being who they wanted to be.  remember them when you march during pride parades and celebrate your individuality.  they would do the same for you if the tables were turned.  trust me.

happy Pride.  we have to look out for each other.

 

-Vynne

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never giving up a ghost: reviving a blog

i am never good at keeping up with things.

i would be the kind of person that’d forget homework because i lost it and never felt like doing it, all the while still passing the class.  school was not my forte nor my fifty.  it just was.

so many things happened in the 2016 hell year Spectacular, so many bad things i do not like thinking about.  ’twas not a good year for me or anyone in general.

i thought about updating on 6/12, i really did.  the sheer weight of tragedy sort of overwhelmed me.

then the cheeto man rose to power.  also inexplicably overwhelming.

i went to that march in dc about that not too long ago.  the most overwhelming.  most folks i ever done did see in my life i tell you what.

besides all that, i gave this blog an oggleglance and decided that it still has a purpose.  non-binary folks aren’t getting much attention in any sort of media.  i’d like to change that.

so, almost a year after the last post-valentine’s day 2016-i am doing a return.

hello again.

it’s been a bit.

-Vynne, the Enraged Enby

Nice Non Binary Things

So developments have occurred.  Positive developments, I assure you!

There’s this blog on Tumblr.

Real top-hole blog, 100% and all that.

It’s called nicenonbinarythings.tumblr.com

(apparently the hyperlink isn’t working so just copypasta it to your address bar and look for it)

I mention it because I am one of the new mods with this real snazzy blog.  I really like the positive vibes that the blog tries to get out there for the NB community as a whole!

I hope all y’all give it a proper check.  You might find it refreshing.

 

Vynne, the Enraged Enby.

The Transnormative Performative

time to put on my serious face.

okay.

here goes.

. . .

Now, something that feels slightly important to me came to mind during my Philosophy and Gender Theory class (great class by the by 12.5/10) about the trouble of gender.  When I mention the trouble of gender, I refer to Judith Butler’s work Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (1990).  Within the first chapter, there is discussion on Sex (the allegedly biological aspect of identity) and Gender (the alleged social construed aspect of identity).  She makes the claim that sex is also a constructed concept.

Shocking, I know.

Is it though?

A sexed body without gender does not appear to be anything but a body.  Without the other, one cannot be made distinct.  Gender is made to be something performative and this is a consequence of the fact that sex too was  the primary performative.

One then argues “brain chemistry and hemispheres and blah blah BLAH”.  There are trends between binaristic categories of “male” and “female”, sure, but if these were an absolute and all-encompassing thing, then it would be true for ALL “male” and ALL “female”.  It is not, believe it or not.

Then we get into the problem with the term feminism.  Can feminism be feminism without the feminine if femininity is constructed by society?  Well…yes(?).

Feminism is different for all peoples, and it depends on the subjective goal of the individual feminist.   For example, my definition is the total equality of all genders in all social aspects (economical, political, societal, and racial).  Then some would ask “why not all sexes too?”  I’d say, sure why not?  It does no harm.  Inclusion is necessity for equality!

We then get into problems in trying to change “the gender game”.  A game has been made with some pretty strict-ass rules.  Man and Woman.  That is all.  Non-Binary and Intersex identities provide what is called “trouble” for this game.  The game cannot be changed and any attempt to change the game leads to backlash.  The ones who win out in the game have the most to lose.

It’s a bunch of fuckin trouble for the winners.

What’s even more troubling is the concept of being born as a genderless entity, which current BRAIN science is trying to prove: technically, the study at the Rosalind Franklin University of Medicine and Science made the claim (with evidence) stating that there’s no difference in the hippocampus in regards to sex. (for those asking “…source?”, there’s this article: http://www.eurekalert.org/pub_releases/2015-10/rfuo-mbd102915.php ; also, Dr. Lise Elliot, who headed this experiment, has a book called Pink Brain, Blue Brain where she discusses the false gendered differences).  It’s not too hard (what with the lack of difference in the corpus callosum or in hemispheric interpretation of language) to then make the leap that children are born without gender.

“But they are born with the fibbly bits between their legs!  they are THIS sex!”

welp.

that’s a point there.

an inappropriate point that demeans a person down to basic anatomical structure…

but a point nonetheless.

If we are to believe the concept of gender performativity (humor this for a second), then there is no gendered essence and the sex binary is a consequence of a perceived gendered essence that was socially constructed as an attempt to reconcile what we know about ourselves.  With science (somewhat) backing this assertion, it’s not the largest logical leap to state that we are beings initially devoid of gender having gender (and sex) forced upon us by virtue of a society that requires everything to be neat and tidy.

I mentioned this earlier.  In the very beginning.  I literally started off with this. (it’s in the first big paragraph).  Circular argument?  I dont know.  The circular part is having to explain the concept of performativity over and over again.

I’m not trying to lay my hand out saying I’m a total believer in the philosophy, but it does leave an impression with me and helps me understand how I feel about myself and my identity more.  For others, it’s confusing.  That’s okay.

We must find the least confusing way to best express ourselves.

I feel as if I am above and beyond the binary; my identity floating above the confining constructs.

How about you?

Vynne, the Enraged Enby.

Gestalt-y

Hello.  It is I: the frenchiest fry.

not really.

I am here though, which is something I have been unable to say for a mite.  Life, it happens.  Now we seem to be in a holy-daze what with the turkeys taking over our dining tables pretty soon.  You know what that means!

Family-Argument-Day!

yaaaaaaaaaaay.

Thanksgiving is often used as a forum by the elder members of a family to take part in qualms with the younger, more impressionable age.  Often this turns into half-assed political tirades and the semi-annual lamentation on how the Millennial generation is “ruining ‘Murica”.  These are things that happen.  For me, Thanksgiving will likely devolve into *another* argument about how the Gender Spectrum™ does not exist (joy joy and jubilation).  Granted, at this rate, I would argue for more of a Gender Continuum™, but they wouldn’t care, “it don’t exist”.

There’s something important we gotta remember during such arguments.  Sometimes, we will find our whole beings absorbed by the argument that we fail to remember just who we are and what the hell we are even arguing about.  We become so focused on being “the right” person that we forget the point of the matter.  We forget just who we are because we argue about the validity of just one of our innumerable aspects.

We are more than the whole of the sum of our parts.

Yea, you hear that a lot, don’t you?  That’s because it’s true, silly!

Sometimes, family members are gonna say something negative about one of your aspects that you may not be open about (like being a closeted “insert identity here”).  Sometimes, families will find solidarity through an acquired allyship; people need allies.   Good allies and not the shitty ones; they can go away somewhere else for all I care.  Family can be one’s most vital ally or one’s worst nemesis.  It won’t always work out that way (as those who may accidentally come out in a fit of rage might find out) but for those that it ends up working for, I’m glad for you.  Only time shall tell.
So enjoy that turkey and try not being so salty.  Be more gestalt-y.

The Enraged Enby.

I don’t like binarist language

I don’t like binarist language.

“Well, no shit,” one would say, “you’re outside a binary.”

But no.

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAALLLLLLLY dislike binarist language.

You wanna know why?  Well OF COURSE you wanna know why.

It’s like imposing some sort of electric wire fence around a concept in order to confine and oppress people.  That’s kinda like it but the electricity is really weak but over time it just keeps shocking and shocking and I get more and more annoyed.

As you can tell, I am rambling; I REALLY fucking dislike binarist language.

I’ve just been very attuned to it today (using he or she to denote a group of people or saying “opposite sex”)  Now some of you are gonna say “Okay you silly NB, sex IS a binary!”

Haha nope.  Intersex individuals are a thing.  As the most civil of debaters say: get wrecked.

So binarist language is a way one can casually oppress a sizable amount of the population (1-2% of 7,000,000,000 is still a lot of people!).  Oppression is what I like to call a “do not do”.

This means you DO NOT FUCKING DO IT YOU FUCKING FUCK.

Ahhem.

It’s been a long yet short day.

One of the reasons this miffs me so much is because it’s so ingrained in the societal psyche, and that makes me disappointed in life in general.  Few beings make even a passive effort to curb the subtly oppressive binarist language so pervasive in our lives.  We need to do better.

We need to nip the buds before they grow into poisonous flowers of despair.  Switch to neutral and all-inclusive language.  It’s not hard.  It’s that one weird trick that makes bigots hate you, but you’ll feel so much better about the world!

I try to not call it ‘political correctness’; I prefer the phrase ‘kindness’.  It’s really not going to kill you to change the hes and the shes to theys and to quit saying opposite and golly why do we still do this?

Do better.

-Vynne, the (actually) Enraged Enby.

The 2016 Oppression Olympics and YOU

So APPARENTLY there is this thing where like one person will state how they are oppressed and then someone else will be like “lol nope” and showcase their various oppressions in an effort to prove just how much more oppressed they are comparatively and make the other person feel shittier; ego stroking is optional.

This is a bad feel, scoob.

Like, first off, and I am trying to be as eloquent as possible:

what the fuck.

But no, in all seriousness:

what the fucking fuck.

Who died and made it okay to say that “my privilege is shittier than yours so you should feel like shit just like me bwahwahwaaaaa.”?  I am so confused.

I guess there are origins in the human need to self-insert ourselves into everything (but really, this is very much likely a post-colonial euro-ethnic thing trying to “civilize” humanity by washing it a paler shade of peach but i’m not a post-colonial critic and never claimed to be).

You see, this is the shit intersectionality (that phrase that you hear so much nowadays in anti-racist and feminist circles) was made for!  Call out the people running the fuckin decathalon in the 2016 Oppression Olympics.  Cite that their privilege does NOT give them the right to speak up for an entire marginalized!  Or, in a more appropriate fashion with the topic, cite that privilege isn’t hierarchical (a thing that intersectionality was also hand-crafted in legalistic circles to do) but rather kyriarchial.  There is this overbearing…thing…that seeks to keep those who are oppressed oppressed.  If YOU were in a seat of power, wouldn’t it make sense that you want the oppressed to NOT unite and just bicker and fight each other.

So fuckin fight me I don’t care.

But rather, I do care.  Don’t fight me, fight the thing that is keeping everybody down.  Don’t compete in the Oppression Olympics:

There are no winners.