Tiffany Has Two Mothers, One Of Whom Is Her Father…I Think
Without going into details that might reveal identities, I had an unplanned encounter with an “alternative lifestyle” couple recently. I don’t know what the proper (i.e., politically correct) terminology is, to be honest, so we’ll just leave it at “alternative lifestyle.” At first glance, the couple appeared to be two females, but as they came closer, one of them projected a distinctly male aura, including a conspicuous Adam’s apple and the voice to go with it. Transexual? I think so, and that opinion is seconded by a friend who happened to be a witness.
Before going any further, I am compelled to reveal what I think about the whole alternative lifestyle thing—especially the attempt to appear to be something one is not: It is supremely self-destructive, sinful, narcissistic, stupid, and worthy of equally stupid jokes. But being a red-blooded, dyed-in-the-wool American male who believes in the American ethic, I don’t really care that an adult decides to risk eternity in Hell by pretending to possess a chromosomal arrangement he does not possess and claiming the “right” to force people to play along—as long as they don’t hurt anyone but themselves, that is, which is where this story takes on another dimension.
As I was talking to Faye and Georgette (not their real names, of course), a little girl of maybe five walked up.
“Oh,” said Faye, “this is our daughter, Tiffany. Say hi to this man, Tiffany. Tiffany?”
“Hi,” Tiffany said, not looking up.
“Hi, Tiffany,” I said, suddenly wishing I could then say, “Hey, Tiffany, listen, if you’d like to know what childhood can be like when things aren’t weird, you can come live with my wife and myself. Whadaya say?” A bad idea that I suppressed by chewing my tongue.
Trans-sexualism has been around long enough now that some children raised by transsexuals have grown up and are talking publicly about their childhood experience. These whistle-blowers consistently say they began to realize their families were not just different, but (they use words like…) weird, strange, wrong, off, and so on when they were around Tiffany’s age, and that they were (they use words like…) regretful, jealous, angry, confused, and so on about their circumstances. In short, they were not happy. Even as young children, they knew they were being denied a normal childhood, even that they were in a sort of prison.
Faye and Georgette made the decision to live together as two women and deal with whatever consequences ensued. Tiffany did not make the decision and even if she had been consulted, she could not have known what she was being asked to cooperate in. Furthermore, she will not be able to know until she is into her teen years. Meanwhile, she is being brainwashed.
I cannot help feeling very sad for the Tiffanies and Tommys of this bizarre historical era in which we now live. I call it “Springer World,” by the way, which I shouldn’t need to explain. Adding to the strangeness are the increasing number of nominally Christian denominations and churches that have embraced the postmodern “I’m Okay, You’re Okay” philosophy, claiming in effect and sometimes even overtly that God’s Word is outdated concerning human sexuality.
I am reminded of the Episcopal priest who told his flock that homosexuality must be all right because “Jesus never spoke of it.” After the service, I asked him, “Jesus never spoke of the sexual abuse of children, either. Does His apparent silence on the matter mean it’s all right to sexually abuse children?” The expression “a deer in the headlights” was never so fitting.
Under the guise of being taught tolerance and open-mindedness, Tiffany and children like her are being subjected to a clever form of child abuse. Instead of being beaten, tortured, or sexually violated, however, their impressionable minds are being twisted with the Newspeak of our times.
On a scale of 1 to 100, how self-centered is it to force Tiffany/Tommy to endure a childhood where they often feel they’re on the other side of a thick glass partition, looking over into another universe where no other kid ever asks, “Hey, is one of your, uh, moms a dude or what?”?
How about 100?