The video is from the UCLA Gender Health Program.
First off, where have I seen this ... guy? ... before? Oh, right.
Next, let's take a closer look at whatever ... this ... is, lurking over here in the corner.
The Beak here is givin' old Doc the side eye, but if you stare at the image too long the bright circles of the sclera begin to look like eyes themselves. White, empty eyes. Eyes that stare into your soul and then right through you.
Ready? No? Too bad. Meet the cricket bat flap.
The text is from the closed captions.
"Blade" = blade of cricket bat. The "handle" encases the urethra (catheter at this point). The handle is folded over onto the blade, and the blade is wrapped around it.
It is ready to go.
Some more little guys "ready to go":
An arm one.
A back one.
That is a real person in that picture. I can't begin to imagine the pain. So. Much. Flaying.
Anyhow, while Boyd has been butchering, Ng has been busy "down here".
I have to stop here for a minute.
I am a woman. This picture shook me to my core.
What is meant to be in that space is on the verge of being turned inside out and ripped apart. What is not meant to be there -- where no structure, genital or otherwise, has any right to be -- will go in that circle. The creation about to vanish, the abomination about to appear. This is "phalloplasty". But that name isn't right. There's no phallus to plasty. There never was and never will be. There will be only destruction. Ablation. Perversion. Mutilation.
This used to be a pussy.
ablate: (medicine) To remove or destroy the function of (a body organ or tissue).
When it is all over, what remains of the pussy is sewn shut and turned into a ball sack.
I have nothing against ball sacks, but somehow this is worst of all.
It's as if destroying it wasn't enough. The parts themselves are co-opted, made to be part of the lie.
How different, really, is this ...
... or this ...
... from this?
Make faces into an apron. Make an arm into a dick. One of these gets you committed, the other gets you a nice fat check. See? Not really the same thing at all.
Not really.
"During Gein’s lifetime, psychological counseling, hormone therapy, breast augmentation, and sex reassignment surgery were unavailable, and gender dysphoria was unrecognized as such. Consequently, to masquerade as a woman, Gein had to improvise."
Yup, that's what ol' Crazy Eddie did, all right. He
improvised.
Hey, did you know what happens if the tranny (and its appendage) get fat?
You do now.
This is done routinely and described as "debulking", but in this specific case, the patient had put on weight, and, surprise! the appendage got fat too. Because it's a thigh, or a forearm, not a dick.
Hmm. Remind me why we're doing this again?
Must you?
Because, never forget ...
Here are some more goals.
Extirpation. That's a pretty word for it.
And do note that the stated goal is merely the
possibility of sexual pleasure. (Later.) See? We never
promised you, just said it was
possible. And yet, flying in the face of reason, despite all the flaying, folding, spindling, and mutilating ...
Look at that. LOOK at that fucking shit. It's pointless, I know, to ask why anyone would do this to themselves, but
WHY?
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