Facebook now offers 51 categories under the heading of “gender choice”
For many, it was an apocryphal moment. One which will be remembered for a lifetime. Exactly where we were and what we were doing when Bruce Jenner shocked the world by going on television to announce that he is… a Republican. And oh yeah, the transgender thing was sort of a big deal too.
A Republican. Can’t wait until Bruce tries to use the bathroom at the GOP National Convention next year and encounters a series of shoulders so cold, the resulting steam coming out of his ears freezes and tinkles onto the tile like glass icicles. Because he has made a lifestyle choice that most members of his chosen party liken to some sort of religious gender treason.
Yet, the outrage over the decision to transition is not as widespread as it would have been just a few years ago. Proof that the future is a tsunami of change sweeping away yesterday’s static perceptions of community, relationships, sexuality and even granite kitchen counter top splash backs.
First it was the Gay Pride Parade. Then the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender Parade. Won’t be long before Disney pays big bucks to sponsor the AWHPWTWTAISB Parade: Anybody Who Has Problems With the Whole Tab A Into Slot B Parade. And that, my friends, is a parade we can all walk in.
Facebook now offers 51 categories under the heading of “gender choice” and it could easily be 51,000, but that would mean filling out forms would become our national pastime. 7.1 billion may be the world’s population but the real number of sexual preferences is probably north of 9 billion, because face it, some of us are little piggies and would demand more than one.
Sex is as complicated as a tangled spaghetti fuse, with desire and romance all intertwined. Or not. And it doesn’t matter if you think it’s trite or cliche, it is true – each and every one of us is a PRECIOUS FRICKIN SNOWFLAKE. Your needs are yours alone. Doesn’t matter if you identify as FTM or MTF or GBH or LSMFT or WYSIWYG or MGM. Ars Gratia Artis.
To be accurate, secondary filters need to separate prudes from exhibitionists and the squeamish and the gross and tentatives and precisionists and leapers and crawlers and the noisy and the mute. And don’t forget the short, taut and distracted. And the plush who require air-conditioning to keep from making their own gravy.
Individual appeal has as much to do with chromosomes as ballet slippers have to do with transmission repair. Nobody can explain attraction. Although throughout history, rich and good-looking has never hurt. More evolved folks keep a constant prowl for a glimmer of generosity. A soupcon of compassion. And whether the prospective mate sufficiently hates the Dodgers.
No more can we assume that sex and gender and physical sexual characteristics are the same thing. Once you’ve seen the rainbow, you can never go back to black and white. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Dot. Tomorrow is going to be broadcast in a million colors. A lot of them nicely puce.
But for those of you desperately seeking labels, here’s a goodie. If the object of your affection picks you up in a car, and reaches over to unlock the passenger door before you try the handle, slap a sticker on their forehead that says…”Certified Keeper.”
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