Showing posts with label gender performance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gender performance. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Transformers As an Allegory for Transsexuality In America


Lately I've been reading an old webcomic called Venus Envy. It's an interesting premise, the daily life and somewhat unique trials of a 14 year old transsexual somewhere a little less understanding than a liberal college town.

I highly recommend it, not for the art, which is adorably … er, rough for most of the series ("it get's better"), but for the subject matter. The stories are interesting and have a perspective most of us don't get to hear from barring a very special episode of "Glee." Eventually some of the more surreal elements take over and, as with any loosely autobio project, an actual plot emerges as a way of wrapping up the fictional bits, which kind of takes away from the slice-of-slice aspect. It's not bad, it's just a change.

Beside the MTF bisexual protagonist are a lesbian, about thirty other lesbians, a straight FTM transsexual, and a fairly straight transvestite. Last night, I finished a chapter that explains that last one with a pretty adorable diagram of boys and girls who like girls and boys or boys and girls, and the occasional boy who still likes girls but also to dress like a girl sometimes. The lesbian is rather confused.

Essential, if gender is performative and sexuality an expression of innate desire, a "straight" crossdresser might be considered "transperformative." But not transportative. That would be a body dysmorphic Transformer.

Oh, yeah. Last night I also fell asleep after watching a bunch of "Transformers."

The two must have joined forces in my subconscious, because as I showered this morning, a realization dawned on me:

Transformers can be construed as a dissertation on transsexuality in modern America.


Now, before we continue, I should note that, as a giant nerd, I know on what Transformers is a dissertation. It's selling toys. Made by a Japanese company. Originally, a bunch of toys they had lying around.

But hear me out. If there's anything I learned in Intro to Crit, it's that creators get very little say in how we read their works, mainly because we read whatever the hell we want to see in past works. So what the hell, let's exercise some cognitive irreverence.

The over-simplified reading is Autobots and Decepticons disguise who they are with a different but familiar covering. This would be akin to saying an army sniper is a transspeciesist for dressing up like a bush. Camouflage is not the same as identity.

Transformation was developed, depending on continuity, as a covert military tactic, however it is a partially biological function. Transformers, silicon-based life forms, contain within them a biomechanical organ called a T-cog, which enables the process of transformation. Personally, I ascribe to the theory that this is a function of a high-energy reaction fueling the fundamental element of Cybertronian life: reconfiguring swarms of nanobots, but that's a bit of a digression.

The important take-away is that transformation is an inherent property of a Cybertronian. It is not performative any more than respiration or–perhaps more aptly–running is to humans. However, the manner in which a Transformer acquires its alternate mode is something of a murky matter.

Like gender and sexuality, a Transformer gains the quality of its "disguise" both biologically and socially. Cybertronians, when not crafted directly from raw materials by the ethereal tools of their godlike forebears (themselves creations of the multiversal singularity and embodiment of creation held over from the universe which preceded ours), are "birthed" as protoforms from biomechanical pods. These pods convey upon the protoform both locally acquired vehicle/animal mode and party allegiance.

"Boy bots wish they looked this good."
Let me repeat that. While the process of transformation is biologically inherent to all Transformers, what they transform into and even the worldviews set down over their base personalities are impressed upon them by Ideological and Repressive State Apparati. They are literally programed what to look like and who to hate.

It is possible for a Transformer to switch its alternate mode and even its affiliation, though the latter is quite rare. More often personal agendas have more to do with breaking allegiances than ideological or moral differences. As to the former, vehicle guises are often switched as a result of a change in semi-permanent location, in order to better blend in. This process, however, usually requires "reformatting," which outside of Michael Bay's film universe, is a rather lengthy and resource-draining process requiring specialized machinery. (Or the multiversal singularity and embodiment of destruction which was split from the original essence of the last being from a previous universe. Either/or, really.)

Yet Cybertronians seem to take reformatting in stride, as if there were nothing they could do about it. That's just the way outside forces made them. As much as Decepticons might prod at perceived lacks in a vehicle mode's performance, Autobots and Maximals know that its a bot's character that determines worth.


Of course, according to Michael Bay all Transformers choose their own disguises, and they all choose either Chevy or GM makes because Chevy and GM are American and if you choose to change into anything foreign, that means you are a spineless capitulating sissy-nancy who hates a Mer'ca.

"You mean I'll never be pretty?"
Then again, that kind of over-performance just reeks of drag queens.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Love Your Woman Like A Woman | Love Your Man Also Like A Woman

A woman I worked with once asked me, "David, you're a guy. Why are men so stupid?"

I told her she could have the short answer, which she wouldn't like, or the long, real answer, which she would probably absolutely hate. She requested the latter.

Men are societally conditioned to be non-communicative. Our job is to solve problems, to zone-in on the exact issue at hand, find a way to neutralize it, and walk away with the minimum expenditure. When a man is upset by something, he figures out what exactly upsets him, and he does a thing so he won't feel upset. This is the end of the matter and he is returned to homeostasis.

If you ask a man how's it going, "Fine," he'll say.

"What's up?"
"Nothing."
"You okay?"
"Yup."

Unless there is something wrong, there is no need to communicate, if there is something wrong, it needs to be dealt with directly, so the status quo can return. It's the apocryphal tale of Albert Einstein not speaking until he was five and his dinner had lumpy mashed potatoes.

"Why haven't you ever spoken before, Albert?!"
"Until now there wasn't a problem with the potatoes."

Incommunicado is the male standard.

Women are pressured to be expressive, to feel the emotion behind every thought and action, every word, chord and brush stroke. A woman is intuitive of others' needs, without having to be asked. If a woman is upset, a man can undo whatever it is that upsets her–kill the spider, remove the ex's phone number, agree to no longer announce the performance of certain bodily functions–but this will not remove a woman's feelings. Feelings remain in the absence on stimuli, they last until they have run their course, because women express their feelings, not just facts.

Women want men who understand this and work with it. They want men who act like men and think like women, forgetting that many women claim to hate interacting with other women.

I said that this is borderline insane and Machiavellian, lightyears beyond the simple "Find it and fix it" attitude men are traditionally taught, the stoicism and utility we are convinced to dumb ourselves down into. Men need only live with the facts of their lives, women must come to grips with how those facts make them feel.

What would John Wilmot, the second
Earl of Rochester do? He'd have sex.
I said that if the two genders, thought both entirely performative, are ever to meet in common understanding, it is going to have to be women who make the effort, for while their methods might be insane, they are brilliant. Men are taught to be useful, but dumb, and–frankly–it is far more reasonable to ask a mad genius to try to think like a fool than ask the fool to anticipate brilliant strategy.

I said this all in a blinding whirlwind, knowing that, though she asked for the least desirable answer I could give, I was likely to be chastised and dismissed for my dearth of sympathy and seeming shirking of actual, male responsibility.

Instead she nodded her head in fervent agreement and asked, "Why don't you have a girlfriend?" as if she were asking the Dali Llama why he was attending Catholic mass.

Dumbfounded, I could only think to answer the truth:

"Oh, crippling emotional issues."

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Glidden Paint Is Strong Enough For A Man, Made For Gender Stereotypes


Glidden Paint: Because all women aspire to look awesome in a sexy pair of heals. You know, even if you're incapable of hailing a cab in the middle of a city street while flailing wildly.

And sure, you're fully capable of painting your own house. You don't need a man for that. Which is great because you're apparently all capricious, vindictive defacers of wall space devoid of any communication skills higher than pre-smartphone text-speak.

But hey, I hear that's how Banksy started.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

On Getting In Touch With Your Masculine Side


How To Get In Touch With Your Masculine Side: A Guide
  • Eat at least one cute animal per meal. For bonus points, top it with cheese and maybe bacon.
  • Punch yourself in the arm. Hard.
  • Stop having any feelings other than rage, lust and material jealousy.
  • Scratch yourself in public, preferably before or after farting.
  • Bother absolutely no one for anything, thus entitling yourself to remain similarly unmolested.
  • Limit your alcohol intake to domestic beer and whiskeys or otherwise bad-tasting liquor. If you enjoy drinking it you're not doing it right.
  • Nap.

Monday, July 5, 2010

On Getting In Touch With Your Feminine Side
















How To Get In Touch With Your Feminine Side: A Guide
  • Stock your liquor cabinet only with rum, bagged wine, flavored vodka and cranberry juice.
  • Buy all your clothes two sizes too small, maintaining it is your fault for being fat.
  • Concentrate not on whether you understand an issue, but how it makes you feel.
  • Make your own sandwiches.
Look for the equally derivative "How To Get In Touch With Your Masculine Side" tomorrow!

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Arguments I Will Never Win and Why


















Arguments I Will Never Win and Why
:

WHAT: There are too many fitness articles written about losing fat and too few about gaining muscle without becoming a complete creatine d-bag.
WHY I WILL ALWAYS LOSE: I live in America, not Europe.

WHAT: Do what you love, everything else will fall into place.
WHY: I'm white and my mother pays my rent.

WHAT: There is nothing wrong with gay marriage; sexuality is a spectrum and we should respect the expression of natural rights by every human being.
WHY: I'm straight.

WHAT: Modern feminism almost exclusively replaces equality through shared human experience added to purely feminine viewpoints with inverted ideals and roles for what is abstractly considered to be prototypically masculine, furthering the original misconceptions of traditional gender-performance roles as diametrically opposed binaries.
WHY: I have a penis.



I think this might be a photoshopping of a Lichtenstein print, or at least comics from the same era as the ones he based his work off of. Neat!

Monday, January 11, 2010

On Gender Performance

Sunday nights have recently been our fun manly nights.

Jay works the bar so everyone comes to visit him, and since it's a Sunday only a few people other than our friends ever stop in, so mostly it's just us hanging out in a bar with food and pool and darts all night. Well Jay quit tending bar this week. Apparently our happiness wasn't worth the low pay and insane, overtly racist boss and her boyfriend.

Anyway, without beer and gambling and games of skill to fall back on I decided to give up on manliness for the night and bake a chocolate souffle.

All-in-all, I found it to be a tremendous waste of time and eggs. Mostly eggs.