Island of Trans
Yo… So it’s a lot of folks who seem to take issue with the fact that I am (or at least claim to be) an avatar. I think most of y’all might be surprised by the sheer volume of people who ‘make it their mission’ to bring me down to the level of the crowd…
“You’re not better than anyone, Donald King! We’re all avatars!”
LOL, no the fuck we’re not…
But a lot of folks don’t understand me when I say being an avatar has absolutely nothing to do with status beliefs of any kind. It’s not a level of enlightenment a person reaches, or something someone can achieve through any sort of spiritual or social work. Its not about a talent level or anything else that denotes class distinction, or can be viewed through a lens of stratification…
So I’ma put it into a story real quick that hopefully helps illustrate my point. We’re gonna call this story:
The Island of Trans
Once upon a time there was this island of trans-people: transvestite and transexual. They were all of the XY chromosomal designation, but very much given to femininity…
And let me tell you something about these people… They were fucking gorgeous Perfect 10s, in fact. Hair SLAYED… Nails, eyelashes, eyebrows and makeup, all flawless. On their worst day, they made Rihanna look like a 4 out of 10 (and y’all already know Rihanna my next baby-muvva, lol).
These trans-folks were so beautiful in fact that they only hooked up with straight dudes, and straight dudes (mostly sailors who passed and revisited the island) bragged about being with Trans citizens; balls and all. Like, straight dudes didn’t even care that some of these folks still had dicks and balls; because these folks were this stunning.
The island was primarily comprised of dudes who hooked up with the locals and decided to stay and transform themselves.
Well one day a boat washes up on the shore of Trans. The Trans citizens look inside and see an unconscious woman. Apparently she’d been out at sea for a few days. She looked dirty, tired and hungry.
They took her in, gave her a bed and bath, and when she woke up they and fed her and what not…
So as soon as she was well enough to speak, they brought her before the town council and began to question her.
Trans Leader: “Bitch, what are you?!”
Woman: “I’m sorry. I don’t understand your question… What do you mean?”
Trans Leader: “Gurl! Your hair and your face are BEAT! You need a makeover, like yesterday!”
Woman: “Yeah… I suppose I do look pretty ragged. But that’s to be expected I guess when you’re out at sea for a few days.”
Trans Leader: “So you’re a post-op, then?”
Woman: “I’m sorry…?”
Trans Leader: “You’re post operation! You’ve already had your penis removed, right?”
Woman: “I think you might be confused. I never had a penis at all.”
Trans Leader: “What do you mean you never had a penis? Any person who doesn’t have a penis must’ve had it removed!”
Woman: “No… I’m a natural female.”
A swift murmur fell over the crowd. The people quickly become angry and outraged at the woman.
Trans Person 1: “What do you mean you’re natural female?! We’re all natural females!”
Woman: “Well, I’m a natural female. I was born with XX chromosomes.”
Trans Person 2: “Bitch, we ALL have X chromosomes!”
Woman: “XX or XY…?”
Trans Person 2: “XX, XY — Bitch it doesn’t even matter! X is X! We’re all X!”
Woman: “Well, I have breasts and a vagina.”
Trans Person 3: “Bitch, half the people on this island have breasts and vaginas! How does that make you any more natural than the rest of us?”
Woman: “Well… My breasts and vagina are inherent to me, and emergent from my body. I’m guessing most of you have breasts and vaginas that are and/or represent the products of effort. Am I right? Mine are part of what I am, and yours seem to be part of what you’re aspiring to be or become…”
Trans Person 4: “You think you’re feminine? Look at how poorly you’re dressed! Look at your hairy legs! Your breath stinks! Your hair and face are a mess! You’re not even that pretty! You don’t even sound ladylike! Every person on this island is far more feminine than you are!”
Woman: “Well, I menstruate every 24 to 28 days. My uterus sheds its lining and I bleed for around 3 to 5 days. On top of that, I can bear children from my womb when inseminated. I’m an actual woman…”
At this point the crowd fell silent.
Woman: “Listen… There’s no doubt in my mind that you’re all exponenitally more skilled at looking feminine than I am. Even when I try, I’m sure I’m not even half as pretty as most of you. But all of your efforts are cursory — they’re surface. At the end of the day, what my body does naturally determines my biological designation. In this sense, ability negates belief. My body’s functions and capabilities determine that I am woman. They have nothing to do with my own personal beliefs.”
Trans Person 5: “Somebody needs to shut you the fuck up! Because you out here talking like you’re better than the rest of us!”
Woman: “Actually, I’m not claiming to be better than anybody. You’re the one who seems to have a problem with me being a natural women, because it interferes with how you want to see yourself. My designation doesn’t become your problem until you personalize the reality of our circumstance. You are the one creating the aggression and hostility here, not me.”
Because that’s the point of the story…
Look here… anybody can claim to be an avatar, just like anybody on the Island of Trans can claim to be a real woman.
You can look the part, sound the part and even act the part brilliantly, but at the end of the day, function and ability separate belief from truth and reality. And I don’t care spiritual you pretend to be, or how nice you are to people, or how many new age spiritualists, philosophers or scientists you can quote and piecemeal together into a seemingly unique perspective.
At the end of the day, ability tells the truth, period.
(Lol, period… < because the natural woman… she has a period… Ahhh, you get what I’m saying…)