Archive | January 2019

“Liberty in our lifetime” – The Self-Worship of Democracy

The goal of the Libertarian Party is stated to be achieving “Liberty in our lifetime.” This is not a goal unique to the LP, though, and many have noted that it is also the stated goal of the alt-right, although they are under the impression that we must first “pass through the eye of fascism” to get there. So let’s address this concept in further detail.

Before we begin, I would point out that I don’t believe liberty can be achieved on planet Earth–period. Any successful anarchist society will draw the attention of the many states of the world, and would be invaded and annihilated before it truly developed the ability to defend itself. The state hates competition, and that isn’t going to change. The state won’t compete with a free and prosperous society if it can simply invade it, and that is what will happen; the state has no incentive to compete.

This is why I insist we won’t have a free society until we are colonizing other planets. The great distances involved, especially in those early days of interstellar travel, will make it nearly impossible for the state, which will by then likely be a world government over all Earth, to attack. The same benefit that the American colonists had will be ours then; it was not cost effective, or even feasible, for the British Empire to readily replace lost soldiers and equipment. That protection by distance no longer exists on Earth.

The argument otherwise appears to be that insidious state supporters will impose their worldview on others, and so the right must force its worldview onto them. The idea being that there is going to be widespread death and purging, and they, perhaps understandably, want to ensure their ideas survive the onslaught. I can understand the sentiment, but I still don’t agree.

This is because I believe the ideas of liberty, peace, and love are superior, and that these ideas will ultimately prevail. It is these ideas I advocate. Many on the right would agree that these ideas will prevail, but I’m not concerned with whether the left or right takes power between now and then.

Que sera sera.

The problem, from what I see, is not the left or the right, but statism as a whole, and blind allegiance to the state. There are simply too many statists out there, and if the destruction of the twentieth century was insufficient, then I dread to think what cataclysm may be needed to shake people loose from the bedrock on which they’ve planted themselves: that they are gods.

I discussed recently on Free Talk Live (or was it Freer Talk Live?) with Ian, and ultimately agreed with him, that the truest hallmark of the state was its religious garb, but, upon additional reflection, I am not sure this is truly the case. The religious undertones and overtones seem to be a relatively recent invention, beginning around the same time as aforementioned world wars, which is unlikely to be a coincidence.

It is an idea that I would say, based on my admittedly limited knowledge of ideological histories, began with Marx, and his statements that, in the socialist order, it was necessary to replace religion with the state–in other words, to turn the state itself into a religion. Prior to this, states were still states, but the pledge of allegiance did not come into existence until the twentieth century, and neither did government buildings look identical to religious ones until the same period.

Of course, we must note that Nietzsche called this from afar, with his often misunderstood statement that “gott ist nicht” (“God is dead”). Nietzsche observed that man had eliminated the primary roles filled by deities and, upon finding those roles newly vacant, placed themselves in them. Humanity lost sight of their inherent fallibility, their own innate subjectivity, and their own limited existence. However, I’m not convinced that religion has ever been anything but a proxy for worship of the self, with humanity’s ego placing us squarely at the center of god’s universe in nearly all religious traditions. Is it not self worship to create gods in our own image, and then imagine ourselves to be the center and focal point of this god’s existence, with an entire universe created solely for us?

Regardless, what we see now is an unmasking of the human ego, broadcast for all to see, with a multitude of humans refusing to see it because they imagine themselves to be a part of it. Enter Democracy, which achieves this directly, allowing each and every individual to feel that they are part of this wondrous thing that produces all good within a society, the ultimate arbiter of justice, and the benevolent protector of the meek and downtrodden.

How ubiquitous is the notion that “we are the government”!

It should be alarming, though not surprising, to connect this directly to the religious aspects of the state, and to conclude that the state is self-worship. I’ll remember until I die, hopefully many decades from now at peace in my bed (though more likely in a bullet from state enforcers, if we’re being honest), the eerie call of “amen” at the Republican meeting I recently attended. What else need be said, when religious trappings are so blatant that this can happen? The point need not be made further; the state is a religion.

Yet those on the left do not ascribe to its doctrines because of any particular religious zeal. They succumb instead to pure ego and vanity. Their allegiance is not to the denomination practiced by Republicans, but to a different denomination, though the goal is the same. The left praises a different set of ideas and motivations, one where their ideology supercedes even the state itself, and where the state simply becomes a servant for their utopian vision of tyranny. This is necessary for their worldview to remain intact, as the state itself is always the perpetrator of the very actions they condemn. The state cannot be supreme in their worldview because it is guilty of the crimes they criticize. In this sense, their worldview is at least more accurate to reality than the Republicans’, but it’s a sliding scale, and neither side is especially close to reality.

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Emotional Well-being

Despite my long-standing and outspoken hatred for that special class of bed-shitting person known as “a Tool fan,” the band Tool actually holds a permanent place in my heart. Watching the fallout from a recent episode of Freer Talk Live, wherein we hosted Chris Cantwell, I found myself wanting to post some of the lyrics to “The Grudge.”

Old video is old.

I admonish Tool fans who cling to the notion that the music makes them spiritually enlightened, but so does Tool themselves (notably in “Rosetta Stoned”). These are the kind of people who invent Indigo Child bullshit and run with it, and it’s tedious and ridiculous. They took the songs from the album Lateralus and rearranged them, seemingly randomly, and called it “based on that Fibonacci Sequence.” They’re nuts, and this has escaped only the notice of other Tool fans.

Yet the truth is that I’ve no doubt Tool has influenced me in major ways. I listened to them more than any other band during my most formative adolescent years, and this was right when Lateralus was popular. There’s no substance to arguments that Tool can uplift one into a higher plane of existence (you may think I’m joking, but there are Tool fans who say this), but everything affects us at all times. It’s not a stretch to imagine someone who grew up listening to songs about the destructive nature of grudges would one day routinely advise people to let things go.

It would be false to give Tool credit for all of this, of course. Much of it is the result of self-reflection. People are often stunned to find out things about my past, like my murdered mother and pray the gay away camps, and (being trans aside, because plenty zoom in on that as some sort of sign of mental unhealth) the apparent lack of long-term effect any of this stuff had. 

Firstly, I’ll be honest and admit that I don’t see much value in emotions. Those familiar with my Darkside Philosophy series will rightly note that I’m assessing this value (of little value) emotionally, but that’s beside the point and not what I mean.

I went through some things in August that I’m never going to elaborate. There were periods where my cats were all that kept me going. But I never sat and dwelled on these negative thoughts and powerful emotions. Instead, I repeatedly found myself in problem solving mode, which emotions directly inhibit. It wasn’t ever about “Oh, no–x, y, and z are major problems, so I need to cry” (fun fact: I haven’t cried in more than a decade). It was “I need to solve x. Then I can solve y and z.” And, without fail, I solved them. Becoming emotionally unstable would not have solved the problems. 

This is why I genuinely don’t understand the trans people who have emotional tirades. Last night someone called me “dude” and “man” so many times to my face while discussing my tattoos that even a co-worker mentioned it to me afterward. I will admit that I noticed it, because he did it too frequently for it to have been accidental, but I noticed it quietly and moved on. I’ve never “corrected” anyone. People are going to call me what they call me, and I neither want nor expect control over that. I’d rather they be free and comfortable, and if I can’t become comfortable with the existence of other people, some of whom will disagree with me, then that’s my problem, not theirs. 

I wonder how Tiffany the Gamestop Trans Chick would have handled it. Except I don’t have to speculate, really, because we saw how she handles the widespread use of these admittedly masculine nouns. They’re remnants of a mentality that defaulted to “he” in third person if the gender of the person wasn’t known, but I say “man” all the time, too–to the extent that one of Chris’s fans accused me of intentionally misgendering him. 

I like emotional well-being. 

There are lots of targets out there surrounding me, and many people like taking aim at them, assuming for various reasons that the metaphorical shot will somehow hit me. The most common is that I’m delusional and believe myself to be a woman. In fact, I’ve never said that I believe this. Quite the opposite, to be honest, and I’m rather upfront about how I consider myself to be a shemale, not a female. 

Of course, this bothers people on the left. Only last week I had someone ask me on Twitter why I use the word that historically has been a pejorative for trans women. Well, I’m not entirely sold that it’s ever been a pejorative, first of all, at least not any more than “BBC” has been a pejorative against black men.  The people who did shemale porn called themselves shemales, after all, but I’ve noticed the word has fallen out of use in porn.

Porn once titled “Shemale gets fucked by BBC” is now titled “Trans woman gets fucked by BBC”. I’m totally okay with this. It leaves the word “Shemale” there for me to use exclusively. On the initial run of the site, I’d begun to appear in people’s searches for porn, and was steadily reclaiming the word from the porn industry. It’s all the better that they’ve voluntarily just stopped using it. 

Now it’s simply mine, a relic from a bygone era when people could be direct without the thought police calling them Nazis.

Speaking of Nazis, much needs to be said, but I can’t be bothered with most of it. I’d describe my relationship with Chris Cantwell as “professionally adversarial, personally cordial.” Think of professional wrestlers. Just because Kane is angry at The Rock doesn’t mean Dwayne Johnson and Glenn Jacobs are angry at each other. I’m tired of people suggesting that there is any hostility or animosity here. There isn’t. 

And we would be disingenuous to avoid the fact that “Nazi” has become a pejorative for certain types of people, as equally as “tranny” and “fag.” It’s meant to dehumanize people to the extent where their humanity can be totally denied, and it’s been effective. I’ve seen countless people this week saying that anyone who is a Nazi deserves anything and everything that happens to them. This is a sentiment that I wholly and unambiguously condemn. If you’ve lost sight of a person’s humanity, then you’re no better than the literal Nazis, who used exactly that propaganda tactic to destroy sympathy people might have had for the Jews. 

Sure, I experience emotions. I’m actually rather passionate. Much of it is expressed through my music, because music communicates directly with the parts of the brain that process emotion, while words have to be interpreted. Perhaps it’s because I have this mechanism for expressing emotions that I’m able to keep mine from creating continuous negative spirals. Perhaps it’s that I grew up listening to lyrics like “Give away the stone. Let the waters kiss and transmutate these leaden grudges into gold.”

Perhaps it’s that I’m from a world where problems needed to be solved from an early age, and crying didn’t solve them. 

Whatever the reason, an emotion is an invitation for self-reflection. Identify the catalyst, and examine what is it in the self that produced the emotion as a reaction to the catalyst. The catalyst for an emotion is external; the emotion itself is, by definition, internal. No one can make you feel anything. 

An Evening With a Nazi

There’s so much to say in preface here that I’m not entirely sure where to start. I guess I’ll begin by saying that emotions are funny things, and all the rationality in the world doesn’t keep them from being felt. Self-control allows one to guard one’s behavior from the wild motivations of emotion, but this does nothing to change the emotion itself. A person feels how they feel, and no justification is necessary–or possible.

Tuesday night I was invited to the studio to sit and watch an episode of Freer Talk Live, an offshoot of Free Talk Live that is broadcast intermittently and only on Twitch. This was a very special episode where we were to be joined by none other than the Crying Nazi, Chris Cantwell. You can imagine my desire to be part of this, I’m sure, as a quick search of his site shows that the word “transgender” is mentioned an incredible fifty-nine (59) times on the first page alone. It’s entirely fair to say that transgenderism is his pet issue, and is what he perceives as the largest and most dangerous symptom of the shadows he’s imagined are conspiring to undo him and the society he craves. Moreso than Jews, moreso than immigrants, and moreso than Muslims, he focuses peculiarly on the topic.

Thought I was kidding?

To be clear, when I went on his show as part of my campaign for sheriff, I did not then know that he explicitly called for the execution of trans people. I still would have gone, because there is nothing from which I back down, but I want to note how I underestimated the raw hatred he would emit in our encounter. While he was cordial, there was an underlying hatred to everything he said. I knew of his vile indiscretions, but to be in the room with someone while they openly propagate such hatred is a different thing. Only a few minutes in did I realize, “Oh, god. This is an honest-to-god Nazi. A literal, dyed-in-the-wool Nazi.”

But I stayed, and we created what is still being praised as one of his best episodes, by his fans and by mine.

Despite then admitting that I did not fit into the mold he imagined for trans people, and despite his statement that “If trans people were all like you, I’d have no problem with it,” in the months since, he has doubled down on his anti-trans rhetoric. While I don’t follow him or the stuff he says, when he becomes a topic of conversation, for whatever reason, I give myself a quick refresher on what a dangerous person he is.

Oh, no, he himself is not dangerous. There has been much confusion in our libertarian circle whether people fear the man, and I have absolutely no fear of him. Nor do I fear his ideas. The worst he can do, and the worst that can come of his ideas, for me is death. Since I don’t fear death as a matter of course, I don’t fear individual things that could cause it. My fear of his ideas, should they gain widespread prominence, is for the innocent out there, the trans people who aren’t on the frontlines by choice in an ideological conflict and who are merely trying to live their lives, the ones who have thanked me for my efforts, because they see the greater vision I’m trying to portray: a world of peace and tolerance, not revenge and hatred.

However, I was not actually on the show, because another person, who hosted Free Talk Live that night, had the right to claim the chair. I’d be lying if I said I went for a reason other than the hope that a seat would open up. Seeing as we have no Jews at the station (though my boyfriend is Jewish), it was strange to me that we’d have on someone explicitly hostile to one of us while denying, rightfully or not, said person a seat at the discussion table.

I remarked to my boyfriend that I was concerned the optics of two straight cis, white dudes sitting down to talk to an actual Nazi were not good, and even then I didn’t anticipate how decidedly friendly they would be. I did not expect or want endless arguing, but anyone expecting or wanting to see a Nazi challenged by the FTL crew should avoid the episode in question.

As I said at the start, emotions are funny things. I’ve no right to be on Free Talk Live or Freer Talk Live, or even to be present when the discussion is happening, but emotions are what they are. I stayed for two hours of the event, and finally left, because it was stated to me that I was not on a mic, which is an in-studio, polite way of telling someone to shut up. Being uninterested in listening to his hate continue to go unchallenged, though certainly possessing the self-control to sit and be silent, I decided a moment later that my time would be better spent doing literally anything else, and I left.

This, while expected, has been the source of my ire through the last 24 hours. I’m emotionally drained, with zero desire to deal further with any of it, or to interact with the involved parties, but the event, much like the presence of a trans chick in the room with an actual Nazi, is an elephant, and I’m also not one to refuse my bite of the behemoth.

So two things happened that bothered me. The first was not having a seat offered to me to confront this person who loudly and unequivocally calls for me to be tossed into the ovens. The second was a firm but polite reminder of this.

Irritatingly, the person in the other chair was conspicuously quiet through the entire thing, and I’m pretty sure I spoke more than he did, simply by (wrongfully) grabbing the mic nearby and talking. Of course, and further grating my raw nerves on the subject, he stated today that he’d “probably” have given up his chair at some point.

Probably? At two hours in, it was pretty obvious he had no intention of doing so. He sat there on his laptop for two hours and never made any move to do anything, but if only I’d stayed for fifteen more minutes, no, everything would have been different…

This was a common thread today, with it repeatedly claimed that they ultimately challenged Cantwell, but that it’s “during the third hour”–after I’d left. They’ll have to forgive me for not believing this. I made an effort to watch the hour I missed, and not fifteen minutes after my departure did Cantwell go on an anti-trans, hate-filled rant that was met only by laughter. Laughter from this associate of mine, and not a word of rebuke.

Needless to say, under no circumstances will I watch the episode further.

Nor was there rebuke for his rejoicing in the death of the girl at Charlottesville, or for his open statement about using euphemisms to hide his blatant racism from Twitch censors. It compounded a feeling of already being wounded to see such hate go unchallenged, a gargantuan elephant in the room that was repeatedly and carefully sidestepped by the seated hosts.

There is nothing about Cantwell I find threatening, intimidating, or upsetting. I’ll gladly go toe-to-toe with him in any venue. Although suspected, I did not leave because I was angry, upset, or otherwise bothered by anything having to do with Cantwell directly. I left because there was no challenge to the hatred he expressed, other than myself, and it was made clear that my input wasn’t welcome. I’ve got better things to do with my time than watch a Nazi rant freely.

So I don’t know where I stand or even why I’m writing this, except that it’s a notable thing that happened, and I skipped out on The Call to Freedom yesterday because of it–and am likely doing so again today. This is the way I handle things; I retreat and lick the wounds. But, to be clear, there are no wounds in any way caused by Cantwell. I’d even say they’re self-inflicted, due to how I had no right to be there anyway, but, as I said, emotions are what they are and can’t be rationalized away.

But I’m now exploring the possibility of beginning a show called “She Talk Live” with Jackie, who has quit Free Talk Live. Many people seem interested in listening, and I think we’d be fools not to pursue it. So stay tuned for that.

Damn My Eyes

It’s been an interesting day already. In keeping with a plan outlined by Ian Freeman to coopt the GOP I just left the Cheshire County Republican Committee meeting, and there was much more to take away than those things literally discussed. I recorded audio of the event, and will upload it after I’ve cleaned it up a bit, normalized it, and all that, so it will be a few days. There’s not a lot there for one to really comb through; video would be much more fascinating.

It was immediately obvious upon my arrival that I wasn’t simply the only trans person there (totally expected), but was also the only person there who would qualify as young, other than Ian Freeman. In fact, you could double my age and I’d still be younger than a significant portion of the other attendees. While this created some humorous moments, such as when it was stated that “we have to get on the social media,” I couldn’t help but think of a movie I’ve never seen.

Blind rowing, America’s GOP

It was as close to a room full of blind people as I’ve ever seen.

To their credit, they’re aware of the elephant in the room, and they did point at it a few times, but ultimately all they did was acknowledge the elephant. They’re no closer to being rid of it than they were before the meeting; in fact, Ian did more to bring young people into the meeting than any of them, a fact that is certainly worth recognizing.

Other than the one guy who insisted that older people needed to be the recipients of outreach, at least, but such a shortsighted view was only humored by other attendees, and his dual mentions of it received little more than polite acknowledgement that he’d spoken. The CCRC may or may not have an issue with getting older people to go to meetings, and resident older people may or may not be motivated to vote, but even if every person over 50 voted Republican, it solves their problem only for a decade or so.

It’s macabre to note, perhaps, but the elephant must be addressed properly. Older people die, and they are taking the GOP with it.

This was on proud display today, as an upcoming event titled “The Way We Were” made clear, and a bit of quick reminiscing followed by a few others about how Cheshire County “used to be” Republican.

Yeah, well.

I used to be a guy.

Things change, and we adapt to the changes wrought by the chaotic interactions of time and people, or we fade into obscurity, going the way of the dodo and lawn darts. What I saw today was reluctant acknowledgement that the world has changed, and begrudging recognition that the GOP needed to change with it, but a shocking lack of… any idea whatsoever on how that might be accomplished. Nowhere was this clearer than the brief discussion about studying how the Democrats use “the social media” and compiling reports about its effectiveness and cost. Yet there was no shortage of people pointing out that print media is dead.

These two ideas, juxtaposed, should highlight their problem for them, but they evidently refuse to see it. That isn’t fair. They see it, but they’re out of their element–they didn’t adapt as things changed–and are now looking around at increasingly empty rooms that gradually progressed from vibrant, young faces to gray hairs and coughing.

So much coughing. Like an unreal amount.

It began, of course, like an ordinary church service–fitting, considering the purpose of the meeting was ultimately to heap adoration onto the state–with the Pledge of Allegiance (through which Ian and I sat, myself baffled by the display). Then, as though I’d stepped right out of a liberal bastion into a Mayberry church service, an honest-to-god hymn was sung: “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee” or whatever its proper name is.

And then–and I must stress that I have audio recording of this–after the song finished, a single voice rang out “Amen.”

It went from mundane to weird to “OMFG I’M DYING” in the span of about three minutes. “Amen” is certainly a fitting way to end a prayer and hymn to the state, but to actually see and hear this was shocking.

Anyway, the GOP in general has a relatively simple branding issue. The problem is not complex, but the solution would be. I didn’t sign their attendance paper because I’m not comfortable having my name in any way associated with Republicans. The perception is that they’re stodgy old white people obsessed with a world that never was, and convinced they can somehow resist the tides of change through sheer obstinacy.

Their infrastructure remains strong, but we need only three things to absolutely conquer the Republican Party with libertarians: more libertarians, time, and patience. I wish no ill on anyone, but time does what it does, and there is no one at the CCRC to carry on the torch except Ian and me. All battles, ideological, political, and real, are won by those who remain standing. Realistically, in fifteen years Ian and I will likely be the only people still there, from those who attended today.

I can’t imagine this is irregular for the Republicans. Photographs of their meetings reveal the same phenomenon, and the only competing party is the Democratic one, which is decisively winning the ideological war among young people. Republicans can (and, indeed, they did) blame “brainwash” by the education system if they want, but it’s not going to change that young people are predominantly Democrats or Libertarians.

Canvassing colleges isn’t going to change that, for the same reason I don’t want an “R” next to my name. They have to change their image, and whether they want to change it is immaterial. We just need more people doing it. No, I don’t want “Republican” next to my name because of all the stereotypes and connotations it entails, but I’m aware the only way to change said implications… is to have “Republican” next to my name.

It isn’t for the sake of the Republican Party, though. It’s for the sake of libertarianism, and hijacking the Republicans’ political infrastructure to undermine and dismantle the state. I don’t give a damn about the Republicans or their current platform; I want to erase their entire platform and replace it with the NAP.

Political parties have faded and died, and evolved, through the history of the United States. Looking around today, it was obvious that we’re on the verge of that. Give us ten to twenty years, and we can simply change its name from “Republican Party” to “Libertarian Party.”

Because we’ll be the only ones left standing.

Predators & Prey

I’ve been pulled over a lot in the last month or so, and by “a lot,” I mean somewhere between five and eight times. We’ve officially reached a point, however, where it simply isn’t my fault; I’m trapped in the wheels of inefficient, moronic bureaucracy, and there’s no quick or easy way out.

During the month of August that I’ve alluded to, my driver’s license expired, and I couldn’t do anything to prevent it because I didn’t have the money. When I did have the money, I had all my paperwork–except my birth certificate, which has to be a certified copy because my license was expired. So I contacted my family in Mississippi and had them send it to me. Although mailed out in early October, and postmarked the same, it was early December before it actually arrived. When it did arrive, what I found were useless photocopies, so at the first available opportunity I called the number in Jackson and ordered one.

When I got pulled over again two days ago, it inspired me to look at the order number and see what the holdup is, and I learned that Mississippi requires additional identity verification and that I must send them a photocopy of a valid, non-expired governmental ID. There were no other identity verification options.

I need my birth certificate to get an ID, and I need my ID to get my birth certificate.

“Ain’t life grand?” remarked my grandmother when I called her, to give my debit card information and let my father order it for me, but it isn’t “life” that created this quagmire. It’s the state.

Of course, the reason I am continually targeted by the local thugs isn’t my expired driver’s license. It’s my expired licence plate, which I can fix much more easily–by sending someone in Mississippi the money, having them go to the courthouse and paying my “privilege to travel” extortion fee, and mailing me my magical “I’m a good tax slave” sticker. The problem with this is that there aren’t many people in Mississippi I can trust with this, and my grandmother is in her 80s. My sister is the only viable option, and she tends to be pretty busy, but that’s exactly what I’m doing.

A different and totally unrelated issue is that my driver’s side brake light is extremely uncooperative and just… stops working… at random times. If I didn’t catch it, then I’m effectively driving around with a brake light out. If I do catch it, then it’s easily fixed my tapping the fixture. I don’t know why it’s doing this, but it is what it is.

A week or so ago, I expected to be arrested. I’d been pulled over on Main Street here in Keene for the brake light being out, at which point they found my license expired and my registration expired. In Mississippi I’d have gone straight to jail, my car towed away. However, they didn’t even issue a citation, or technically a warning. Instead, the officer essentially asked me, rather politely, to take care of the brake light, and sent me on my way. Very curious.

Except it isn’t. I’ve been in Keene less than a year, but I’ve already made a few waves, primarily by running for sheriff, which earned me a fair bit of media coverage, most importantly in a feature article for New Hampshire’s largest newspaper. During the campaign I also went on the show of none other than Chris Cantwell to discuss the campaign and trans matters, so they were a fun few months (for those curious, I received 2.4% of the vote, which is phenomenal considering the absolute lack of actual campaigning).

I’m also associated with the Liberty Radio Network and less so associated with Free Keene, a group notorious in this small town for creating problems for the state. So if the local thugs don’t recognize me (which is, to be frank, impossible), the LRN bumper stickers on my car will give it away. I’m essentially a complicated set of headaches that they don’t want to deal with, nevermind being trans.

It’s also not like I’m intentionally flouting the authority of the state. Quite the opposite: I’m doing my best to accommodate its contradictory and asinine demands. It’s literally not my fault the original birth certificate took an incredible two months to arrive from my family, or that the state of Mississippi in its never-ending brilliance has decided one must have a valid ID to get the birth certificate needed to acquire a valid ID.

I don’t mean to insult the Keene PD here. In fact, I find them to be the most benevolent of all law enforcement agents with which I’ve ever dealt. During the month of August, I was given a ride on two occasions by a Keene police officer, and they’ve never been anything but polite and friendly toward me, even when, by all legality, they probably should have arrested me.

Most importantly, I don’t feel it when the Keene police are about to pull me over, and this is what the enormous prelude above was getting to. I’m willing to bet we all know the feeling to which I’m referring: it’s a sensation that can only fairly be described as “being hunted.”

I’ve been harassed by thugs throughout my peaceful existence enough to bet that everyone knows that sense of being a prey. Is it that they drive so aggressively when they’re prowling for victims? I am not sure.

Most recently I was accosted by a state trooper, and I immediately knew, as he pulled out behind me, that he would pull me over. This did not change over the next mile, as he continued to follow me, and I was not in the least surprised when those blue lights began flashing just outside of where I live. On this occasion, I was being pulled over not for having an expired licence plate, but for having an out of state license plate. Through our brief conversation, I was rudely informed that I can’t be in New Hampshire while having Mississippi tags.

This, of course, is extremely stupid, and quite obviously false. There are three states within a fifteen minute drive of Keene, and there are people from all over New England in Keene. There are reasons beyond the cost of registration (in New Hampshire it’s about nine times more expensive than in Mississippi) to keep my registration where it is, but they’re not worth getting into here, and it’s even worth the additional cost to sign the car over to my business located in Mississippi.

But I think it says a lot about the current state of affairs that law enforcement agents generate the same primal sense of dread and fear that are triggered when one is being followed by a rapist through a back alley, or when our ancestors were stalked by predators thousands of years ago. Of course, they are predators, so it shouldn’t really be a surprise–just something we consider.

What a Long, Strange Trip It’s Been

Well.

For the people out there who knew me as the Anarchist Shemale in the first place, I probably appeared to drop off the face of the world. I didn’t, of course, and have been around this entire time, primarily on the daily radio show that I co-host, The Call To Freedom, which can be listened to on the Liberty Radio Network, or watched live each day on Twitch, from 4p to 7p EST Monday through Friday. Of course, I’ve also been on Free Talk Live a fee times lately, and ran for sheriff as a libertarian, so I’ve been around.

I moved, you see, in July, and found myself in Keene, New Hampshire, the home of Free Keene and the LRN Studio, as well as the Liberty Family with whom I spent thanksgiving and Xmas. August was an especially bad month wherein one thing after the other went as catastrophically wrong as conceivable, but I survived, and things are leveling out nicely. So here I am, back to resume the writings that I allowed to lapse in 2018 to focus on the radio show.

Of course, I would be silly not to mention my own Twitch channel, at which I can be found with unpredictable irregularity playing games, often the original Legend of Zelda.

Those who have kept up with me through these last few months know that I’ve come out as bisexual (to the surprise of no one), and live permanently as a woman now, so that’s a thing that went down. 2018, despite hosting what I’ll remember as the worst month of my life (worse even than the Vegas Ordeal, though for very different reasons), was a good year, and I’m excited to be moving forward. 

There are still complications with which I’m contending from August, but I hope to have the last of those worked out within the next few weeks. No, I have no intention of telling anyone what happened in August, or why it was actually so bad. There was a lot that I’ve told no one about, and the only person who has any indication of the extent to which it sucked was my co-host Will Coley, in whom I confided one day that I thought there was no option but for me to return to Mississippi. 

But I fought through, and I’m still here, with the bulk of that behind me. I’m happy, and that’s been worth a bad month. Last week I sang karaoke with Ian Freeman of Free Talk Live at a bar, for example, so despite appearances I engage in more than simply work. It’s a fun life. 

I’ll be returning to my usual thing here, so stay tuned for my philosophical and political writings–they’re coming.