In case you haven’t noticed dearest motherfuckers, I’m pretty goddamn weird and I seem to be getting weirder by the hour. This isn’t a flex; every time I think I’ve got my proverbial shit figured out I seem to add another asterisk to my colossal list of obnoxious eccentricities that makes me just a little bit more marginalized than I already am and it’s beginning to get hard even for me to keep it all straight.
As if simply being genderqueer wasn’t enough, it turns out that I’m really more of a butch lesbian trapped in a man’s body which is virtually impossible to express without just looking like a fucking dude. And as if convincing Queer cis women to find Andrea Dworkin in Mikhail Bakunin wasn’t enough of an uphill climb, it turns out that my childhood trauma makes it pretty much impossible for me to have a sexual relationship unless it’s part of some kind of sadomasochistic roleplay where one of us performs the part of the innocent Catholic schoolgirl and the other becomes some mystic maternal figure saintly enough to restrain her without leaving a bruise.
My ideology has taken a similarly labyrinthine path into esoteric absurdity. I started out as a better-red-than-dead Tankie-Guevarist then jumped ship to left-Rothbardian free market anarchism before coming to the conclusion that civilization itself is the fucking problem and rejecting the whole damn left-right paradigm for some kind of Queer, post-civ, heathen revivalism. All the while managing to maintain just enough Marxian solidarity with third world revolutionaries and resistance to any form of non-voluntary governance to isolate myself from pretty much everyone. People on the left think I’m a fascist, people on the right think I’m a Maoist, and my only response to both is that you people have no idea what those words even fucking mean anymore.
But it’s probably my psych eval that really takes the cake. After decades of haunting support groups and out-patient psych rehabs as a perpetually broken, agoraphobic basket case, my gender transition tripwired a cascading avalanche of repressed memories that resulted in a year of spine rattling seizures and horrific flashbacks revealing that not only did I realize I was born in the wrong gender at an obscenely young age but I was also quite literally beaten and sodomized by Catholic priests into making that part of myself disappear. Now the only way that I can cope with this truth is by assuming multiple personalities, most of whom aren’t old enough to feel safe leaving the house without having another one of us holding their invisible hand. Oh yeah, and then there’s the chronic Lyme disease.
So, it turns out that I’m a transbian mommy domme primitivist with three badly battered children that no one else can see but me unless one of them gets triggered enough to hijack my thirty-something body for a public hissy fit. Don’t feel bad for feeling exhausted. Even I’m rolling my eyes at me, or at least my 14-year-old alter Max is. The most common responses that I receive to this circus that I now call life are “You’re fucking crazy, dude” and “You just want attention.” The first I agree with whole heartedly but the second is almost laughably absurd.
If I just wanted your fucking attention, I would buy an iguana and get a face tattoo like every other desperate white bro, and if my laundry list of increasingly severe social dysfunctions were just a ploy for attention, it would be a pretty fucking stupid one considering that the result has been having less and less people take me seriously while handing my rapidly multiplying collection of enemies more and more pointy things to throw in my general direction.
So, why do I do it then? Why do I bother putting my pathological eccentricities on display like this? Well, for one thing, when you spend your life keeping 90% of yourself a secret even from yourself the only way to heal is to find a voice and scream your guts out from the tallest rooftop. But the other thing, the really strange thing, is that the more marginalized I get, the more sense my life seems to make even while it baffles everyone around me. With a little help from a committed trauma therapist who isn’t a slave to the DSM, I’ve actually found that being five pagan dykes in an estrogen dosed caveman’s body feels strangely normal and that’s probably because what passes for normal in this twisted civilized world has always felt dangerously strange to me.
What exactly would be the “normal” response to having every adult in my life ignore my rampant gender dysphoria before losing my virginity to a pair of clergymen in preschool? I suppose if I was normal, I might buy a big truck, join the Republican Party, and take my rage out on Haitian migrants and Palestinian toddlers. Or I could just do what those two priests did and find some old-time religion in a locked rectory closet. Sorry normies, not my style.
I may be an insane pervert defined by my jihad against the modern world, but I didn’t start this fight. Normal fired first. Me and my girls just came back to church with a can of gasoline to get even and perhaps the strangest thing about our presence is that we are not alone. America and Western Civilization in general has become a veritable petri dish of abnormal behaviors. Rates of mental illness and neurodiversity are exploding from Bakersfield to Berlin, as are the growing list of brazenly bizarre subcultures and identities being used to cope with them.
I spend a great deal of my time writing about these post-modern tribes right here. Asexuals, otherkin, antiworkers, Boogaloos, adult babies, drag queens, sovereign citizens, furies, race traitors, sex workers, Wiccans, larpers, tulpamancers, chaos magicians, radical traditionalists, Afrocentrics, forest defenders, psychonauts, urban explorers, nudists, vampires, stoners, weebs, neopagans, body modifiers, junkies, agorists, Russophiles, transhumanists, homesteaders, homeschoolers, doomers, Squatters, guerrilla gardeners, and ageplayers.
We are all different, but we all have at least one thing in common; society doesn’t fucking fit, and we all want out. None of this is a coincidence. It is all connected, from my so-called mental illness to yours. The growing diversity of people choosing to live outside the increasingly stultifying boundaries of normal is spreading and it’s about time. One of my favorite Marxists, Antoni Gramsci, referred to us as the Subaltern. Karl himself more derisively labeled us as the lumpenproletariat. Both essentially amount to an unorganized underclass amongst the post-colonial masses that exists on the margins- criminals, vagrants, migrants, convicts, drifters, loners, and lunatics, the homeless, the unemployed and the unemployable, an entire caste excluded from the socioeconomic institutions of society in order to deny the strange agency.
But when society itself has become a sickness, we on the outside become the cure. We are living on a dying planet managed by a superrich elite who are willing to drive the entirety of humanity and virtually every other living thing to extinction just to satiate their nihilistic thirst for more. This is the inevitable result of civilization itself, of man attempting to possess nature and monopolize it beneath a colossus of carcinogenic constructs like property, agriculture, corporatism, capitalism, and the state. All of this was achieved through a concerted campaign of homogeny and universalism, of sameness and assimilation, through the church and Walmart and NATO and Walt Disney.
Strange is the solution. Marx’s Russian rival and my apparent cis-doppelganger Mikhail Bakunin knew this well. While his prissy German nemesis shit on the unpoliticized underclass and told us all to get a job at one of his blessed factories, Bakunin declared lumpenproles to be the natural leaders of any successful revolution specifically because we already existed outside of society. I hate to date my own craziness here, but Jesus Christ said the same thing too. He walked past the banks and temples and declared the whores and lepers to be the people of God because they had already divorced themselves from a vain and vapid world.
So, I’ve come here to boldly embrace every aspect of my identity that removes me from the status quo, and I encourage you in these trying times to do the same. Civilization has made western society too big to be anything but dangerous and we all need to get together to chop it up. So, flush your meds, fuck a stranger, start a gang or a cult, buy your pot from the Amish, encourage your kids to change their gender identity twice a week, go weird, go pro, tune in, drop out, turn and embrace the strange, because normal got us into this mess and lunatics like you and me and me and me are the only way out.