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Nancy Robertson's avatar

When less than one out of a million men tried to pass themselves off as "women," men like "Renee" Richards and "Jan" Morris, the "transsexual"/"transgender" scam posed no real threat to women, children, or the whole of society. But today, when tens of thousands of teenage daughters demand double mastectomies, when intact male sex offenders rape their female cell mates, when little boys and girls are brainwashed into believing they can change their sex, the "transgender movement" threatens everyone.

"Debbie" Hayton has a problem with the Pride Parade. Fine. But because Mr. Hayton wears womanface in public, calls himself "Debbie," and tries to pass himself off as some type of "woman," he is a major part of the "transgender" scam whether he acknowledges it or not. Like it or not, there is no such thing as "transgender." There is no such thing as "transsexual." We are the sex we were conceived as. That says it all.

Mr. Hayton is a man. Not just a biological man. But a man in every sense of the word. He is no more entitled to pass himself off as a woman, any type of woman, not even a "transsexual woman," than I can munch on a Milk-Bone biscuit, douse myself with Frontline," and register at the American Kennel Club.

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Branson Edwards's avatar

If it's true, as some say below, that the author is a biological male and still a heterosexual, then this article is brilliant satire (though satire isn’t what I'm paying for here). And further, if the author is a heterosexual, biological male, and the piece isn't brilliant satire, then it's... what? Pathetic nonsense? It's kind of like Rachel Dolezal, apparently a caucasian, becoming a leader in the NAACP, only instead of being found out and pilloried, let's say instead she became disenchanted with the direction of the NAACP and pilloried them? Talk about the pot calling the kettle... wait, maybe the Wedgewood Porcelain calling the...? I give up. I identify as a chef with a headache whose tired of hearing the cupboard inhabitants holler at each other. Where is my parade?

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