by Gaius Marcius
Every advance of civil rights from the mid 20th century onward has been to the detriment of Western Civilization. At first the attacks on European Christian culture were indirect, indeed, hardly discernible except in hindsight, decades after they occurred. More recently, the universal feminist background radiation of the post-modern universe and the quantum leap of gay rights have inspired more direct attacks on normalcy. Transgender equality is the exact sort of late stage inversion one should expect from the enemies of civilization because it simultaneously strikes at the most basic biological and psychological identity of every individual and poisons all the epiphenomenal aspects of our culture.
Trans activism is not really about sex or gender identity, except insofar as those labels provide a convenient cover under which confusion and unreason can be spread to the masses. The trap is baited with a universal sore point in sexual identity: almost everyone has at some point been teased for acting like or enjoying something associated with the opposite sex. Men who watch romantic comedies and women who play sports have had the seed planted in their mind that it must be natural for everyone to possess some hint of gender fluidity. Everyone has also at some time failed to live up the ideal forms of masculine or feminine identity. From these broadly shared emotional experiences, trans activists draw an enormous non sequitur by asserting that acting on impulses that would destroy the sexual binary and revolting against biology in favor of individual subjective perceptions is as valid a form of sexual expression as any other.
The far-reaching consequences of trying to destroy traditional sex differences are illustrated in the short story The Toys of Peace, by HH Munro, better known as Saki. Saki describes a pacifist effort to propagandize little boys into being less violent, that is to say, to make them into little girls. The well-intentioned uncle, Harvey, tries to get the boys to play house on a grand scale.
“It’s a fort!” exclaimed Bertie.
“It isn’t, it’s the palace of the Mpret of Albania,” said Eric…
“It’s the municipal dust-bin,” said Harvey hurriedly; “you see all the refuse and litter of a town is collected there, instead of lying about and injuring the health of the citizens…That,” he said, “is a distinguished civilian, John Stuart Mill. He was an authority on political economy.”
“Why?” asked Bertie.
“Well, he wanted to be; he thought it was a useful thing to be.”
Bertie gave an expressive grunt, which conveyed his opinion that there was no accounting for tastes…
“A model of the Manchester branch of the Young Women’s Christian Association,” said Harvey.
“Are there any lions?” asked Eric hopefully. He had been reading Roman history and thought that where you found Christians you might reasonably expect to find a few lions.
“There are no lions,” said Harvey. “Here is another civilian, Robert Raikes, the founder of Sunday schools, and here is a model of a municipal wash-house. These little round things are loaves baked in a sanitary bakehouse. That lead figure is a sanitary inspector, this one is a district councillor, and this one is an official of the Local Government Board.”
It is in Harvey’s private reflections after introducing non-violent play to Bertie and Eric that the stakes of the game are truly revealed.
Harvey retreated to the library…wondering whether it would be possible to compile a history, for use in elementary schools, in which there should be no prominent mention of battles, massacres, murderous intrigues, and violent deaths…[I]t would be something gained if, at a highly impressionable age, children could be got to fix their attention on the invention of calico printing instead of the Spanish Armada or the Battle of Waterloo.
You certainly could write a Herstory book along such lines. Who knew that Saki could predict exactly what the U.S. Department of Education would be doing a century after his death? Any attempt to pacify boys must include destruction of reverence for heroism, history, patriotism and the thirst for knowledge. Only by inculcating a strict incuriosity about the violent past and the literary and artistic products of that past can the idyllic utopia be reached. Fortunately, the resilience of inborn traits can handle a certain level of interference without damage.
Peeping through the doorway Harvey observed that the municipal dust-bin had been pierced with holes to accommodate the muzzles of imaginary cannon, and now represented the principle fortified position in Manchester; John Stuart Mill had been dipped in red ink, and apparently stood for Marshal Saxe.
If the story is a joke, the punchline is one we are already familiar with.
Harvey stole away from the room, and sought out his sister.
“Eleanor,” he said, “the experiment-“
“Has failed. We have begun too late.”
The day we left Eden is the day it became too late to build utopia. In this present world the only path to victory in any field is against oppositional forces. Success in some way comes into being only when it can be contrasted with the resistance it overcomes. The unused muscle atrophies. As in the physical so in the mental, spiritual, and cultural realms as well. Harsh, wild masculinity is essential to civilization. Seek peace and you will find only failure and decay. Si vis pacem, para bellum.