Matt Osborne #transphobia thedistancemag.com

Name A Human Right Dylan Mulvaney Lacks And I Will Give You A Million Dollars

Nothing about him is marginalized. Dylan Mulvaney is not marginalized. His status has increased.

This writer cannot recall a single transgender person visibly decreasing in status from transition. On the contrary, “gender transition” has been a spectacular means to get attention since at least Christine Jorgensen.

Gender transition has received universally positive press coverage all my life. I cannot remember an actual countervailing wave of “transphobia” across media, ever. Not even within a specific media space except perhaps the most reactionary televangelism.

(Stop making the televangelists right about things, Joe Biden.)

Critical views are not welcome. Middle ground solutions are not welcome. Either submit to the demands of the “gendererd” or you will suffer the consequences.

This is the description of an elite class, one that hides its eliteness behind an obfuscating myth of its own fragility.

The only fragile thing about Dylan Mulvaney is his ego.

Dylan Mulvaney objects to women who dislike his opportunism. His intentions were pure, you see. He is the quintessential “nice guy.”

You can trust him, ladies. He says so. He’s just giving away tampons randomly, see? To women who need them. In their restrooms.

Not creepy at all. See? “No threat to you and your womanhood,” in his words. “How is someone doing something so nice so repulsive for you?”

In a recent video posted to his Instagram, nice guy Dylan denied being responsible for a tampon shortage.

“It’s not because I’m mysogynistic, it’s because you’re transphobic,” he explained. “You know, we gotta work through this.”

So reasonable. So nice. He just wants to be loved for endorsing tampons. He is actually jealous, he admits, that he isn’t a real woman. He wishes he had been born in a woman’s body.

Maleness was assigned to him, he says. Dylan is really really a woman inside, but being materially female is not what God had in mind, he says. Stupid God.

Dylan’s in your restroom for the most honorable and even godly of purposes. Godlier than God zerself. Suggestions otherwise are actual wounds to his soul.

“I’m not enjoying my womanhood as much as I used to,” he complains. “And my pain might be different from your pain, but it’s very real.” Can’t you feel his pain?


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