First Transmission

Hello, readers and listeners.

I would like to introduce myself: I have just spent the last few years, tightly jammed in the trenches and the fringes of the frontlines of the gender war, observing from the sexes duke it out over issues like who gets to use the bathroom first, and when it’s appropriate to give up on the map and ask for directions. I have not been entirely unhurt in this endeavor. I wear the scars of battle, and inside I’m no longer unambivalently feeling the emotions of my birth, or biological, sex, as it were. If genderness arose from what our attitudes to the raised toilet seat is, or our pleasure at sitting on a La-Z-Boy with a beer, then color me absolutely fuzzy on the edges, in the center and along every axis.

However mutated and hideous to the mental appearance my twistedly dual self might be, it has value to the rest of humanity. I’m like a rat with a human ear that through its grafted ugliness holds the promise for a better future. Having teetered on the edge of the both sides of the coin for so long, I am now ready to report insightfully on where these battles and skirmishes are leading. There’s a bigger picture to the question of man vs. woman, him vs. hers, fairer vs. stronger, and I am ready to start painting it for you.

I invite your questions and comments. What have you itched to know about members of the opposite sex? Is it why they shop the way they do? Why they squeal at the things they squeal at? When is the best time to tell them you are not really into them, or that you don’t want to be friends in “that way”? Drop me a line and if my hands aren’t busy covering my face and protecting it from the shrapnel of the incessant sniping, I’ll hammer out a little note of resolution, etiquette, enlightenment, what have you.

Ok, back to the rabbit hole for a while, until my next dispatch. And remember, it’s not who’s on top that counts, it’s who has more fun when they come.


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