I’m glad I don’t have to try to explain this age to any future generations. I’m glad I won’t be here when they study it.
You don’t know anymore whether to laugh, to cry, or to grab for the barf bag. For instance…
Facebook has announced a menu of “expanding gender choices,” designed by some kook who “is herself undergoing gender transformation, from male to female”–translation: an intensely disturbed man who thinks having his willie cut off, and a bunch of chemicals pumped into him, will make him a woman.
At last count there were about 50 new “genders” by which prospective idiots could identify themselves to other lost souls. I don’t know what they are. It was just too depressing to keep on reading. Among the possible categories, I suppose, would be perverted, intensely perverted, and hopelessly perverted; freak, creep, slimy old weirdo; fixated-on-totally-inexplicable-sex-objects, wacko, degenerate… I mean, as long as you’re going to “choose your gender…”
Yes, we have presented a unique gift to posterity: “gender choices.”
And people who get into “gender choices” are unlikely to have any posterity.
For which we must give thanks.