And it’s not – alas – spring. Not here, anyway. It frigging snowed last night. In bloody mid-April. That’s just wrong.
So anyway, something in the air. It would seem that there’s been yet another rampaging outbreak of Bloody Stupid (and not, alas, Bloody Stupid Johnson whose inverse genius is at least entertaining… ahem) or the last one hasn’t died down yet. Regardless, some prat by the name of Damian Walters opined in The Guardian on the topic of a “queer” future – and sadly he didn’t mean queer as in “strange” or “unusual”.
No, he meant in blatant violation of biology. Now sure there will always be a small percentage of folks who don’t fall into the circles of that wonderful triangle I posted a while back but there are damn good reasons why that number will stay small. Starting with X and Y chromosome-linked characteristics and including gene switches that are more or less the “on switch” for a Y chromosome. The vast majority of people will be XX or XY in purely genetic terms. Anything else is a disorder. It might be possible for someone who has the wrong number of chromosomes to have kids, but it’s bloody difficult. Some (a very small number, percentage-wise) people with XY chromosomes have malfunctioning gene switches so they don’t develop external genitalia and may go through life thinking they’re “just” odd females. In some cases the switch malfunction is such that at puberty the kid changes apparent sex. Yes, there’s actually an island somewhere where damn near all the kids are born apparently female and half of them become male during the course of puberty. That’s one hell of a testicle descent. Apparently they’re all descended from one person who had a problem (small population – after a few generations everyone is descended from the same set of ancestors).
The basic mechanics (in thoroughly unscientific terms) are genes plus gene switches plus hormonal surges plus hormonal balance equals base sexuality. Culture determines the acceptable ways to express that base sexuality. Still, I suppose it’s a bit much to expect a literary writer to know anything about basic science.
Of course, said literary writer made the mistake of slandering (or libeling – I can never remember which one is which) Larry Correia, who took an indecent amount of glee in correcting the fool’s folly – and providing facts, something the original piece was rather short on. I guess in the hallowed halls (or should that be harrowing halls?) of the Guardian, facts don’t matter, particularly when you’re running down some (horrors!) commercial author. You know, one who doesn’t give a shit if the lead character of a story is gay, straight, or an alien with heretofore unknown sexual proclivities (come to think of it, that could be fun. Just imagine the poor alien looking at human mating with an appalled expression on its facial appendage because it’s utterly obscene to only have two participants! There must be at least five, one of each sex. Anything less is… Oh, sorry. My imaginary alien just fled on its psuedopods to do whatever its equivalent of throwing up is. Apparently it’s just that sick to only do it with two). Er. Getting back on topic, one who doesn’t care what or who the lead characters prefer to do in bed so long as the story is good.
And Larry proclaimed himself the International Lord of Hate. Well, damn. Sarah and I are going to have to work harder if we’re to live up (or is that down) to our titles of Worst Person in the World. And damn it, Amanda and Cedar need to share these titles. They’re just as much Worst People as me and Sarah. It’s plain not fair they didn’t get the title too.
Then, ah then the inimitable John C. Wright proceeded take the smoldering corpse of Damian’s alleged argument and flay it with loving care and a side of acid rubbed ever so carefully into the raw flesh. I stand – or sit – in awe of his mastery. Seriously, go and read it. It’s magnificent.
I’m sure that if he’s actually paying attention poor ickle Damian is wondering why everyone is being so mean to him. Well, sweetie, if you are actually reading this, here’s a hint. I’m one of a number of writers who don’t care what the mainstream thinks. We’ll do what works and we’ll cheerfully mock (aka take the piss out of) anything that’s excessively stupid. So, sweetheart, if you want us to stop being “mean”, you’re going to have to start showing evidence of a functioning brain. Stringing together pretty words that express the approved point of view doesn’t cut it.
You want us to follow the approved point of view, you show us the logic, and science, and – yes – math that makes it a good thing for us. You’re going to have to get past our actual experiences so it had better be bloody good. Remember, you’re dealing with people who’ve lived under communist governments and don’t believe anything that smacks of Marx, people who’ve done hard, grueling manual labor (and in some cases still do it), people who’ve spent their entire lives outside that nice comfortable left-leaning bubble you’ve lived in all your life where the worst thing anyone can tell you is to get your hair cut and man up.
Shit, I got worse than that every frigging day, all through high school. So, Damian darlin’, that’s your challenge. Explain your precious beliefs in a way that respects us and don’t lie about us. Then we might stop mocking you.
Even better, stop being so damn mockable and we won’t have anything to mock. Unlike some of your fellow travelers we don’t make that shit up.