I’ll say it again: I have two friends who are transwomen. As far as I know, they’re self-supporting, physically healthy, and socially acceptable. One of them, an accomplished software engineer, has even functioned as an “alpha reader” for my last few novels. But I encountered them through Liberty’s Torch V1.0, which attracts only persons of above-average intelligence and (mostly) good sense. (I almost wrote “moistly,” which should give you a sense for the evil imp who lives in my backbrain.) So we have an “existence proof:” there are transgendered persons who are not so thoroughly deluded that they constitute a danger to themselves, others, or the general order of the universe.
If offhandedly referring to you by the pronouns proper to your biological sex hurts you so greatly, “Mr.” Kuttner, your emotional fragility suggests that you shouldn’t be in public life. At least, I would doubt the aggregate sanity of a political party that would choose you to be its chief representative to your nation. But then, Greenies are somewhere “out there” on the sanity spectrum, too.
I know, I know. “It takes all kinds.” I’ve heard that often enough. But no one has ever told me why.
(Applause to David Thompson.)