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the last surviving referent was just discovered and humanely euthanized by field semioticians in the salt flats of utah. apparently it was what people were referring to when they'd say. well. it doesn't matter now anyways does it.

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i still can't tell if using Y as up instead of Z in 3d vectors was the product of a deeply misguided mind or some kind of perverse evil

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Thinking about this metric of like...

Come up with a set of three general-knowledge questions (by general knowledge I mean not stuff about your personal life; roughly the type of information you might find in a Wikipedia article) that you think uniquely narrow you down, in the sense that you feel confident you are the only person on earth who could answer all three questions correctly.

I can think of a few question sets like this for me, where I'm like 80% confident that I'm the only person who knows the answer to all three of them. If you have a little bit of obscure knowledge on a couple of topics, this is fairly easy to do I think.

Well, then the question is, how many meaningfully distinct sets of three questions like this do you have. Call that number your Obscurity Rank.

It's pretty cool to be of high Obscurity Rank, and one should strive for it.

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Poll time, but this time linear algebra.

Arguments for any position appreciated!

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who wants to bite lip skin 🙋🙋‍♀️🙋‍♂️

who wants to have a weird piece of dry skin in their mouth 🙍🙍‍♀️🙍‍♂️

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i still can't tell if using Y as up instead of Z in 3d vectors was the product of a deeply misguided mind or some kind of perverse evil

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i am not indecisive; i have decided i want everything

it doesn't feel good to be right about it, but i am at least a little relieved i decided to stop working toward a legal name/gender change.

people kept asking something to the effect of "why do you use your 'deadname' at school" or "are you ever gonna get it legally changed?"

i recognized that legal recognition of my transition was not something i "wanted" but something i "thought i needed."

the once-discoursed question of "do trans people need to be dysphoric?" seems to have left the brains of everyone who argued "no."

i would shudder at the sound of my "deadname." i would become pensive after a misgendering. i would glimpse my "masculine" features and perceive them as "wrong." i would shave my body and undergo facial lasering because i felt like i was "supposed to." i would regard razor burn and ingrown hairs as "proof" of something i wasn't supposed to "be," something i should stop "trying to be."

a lot of these seeds were planted by queer and trans people before i transitioned. my first trans consideration was not "i want to be a girl," rather, "i want to take estrogen." i thought if i wanted estrogen more than being "being a girl," that i would be met with resistance.

it took me five years to move from "i want to be a part of the 'trans community,'" to "i want to transition." i did not feel particularly welcome, as i was accused of "fetishizing" or "being a chaser" at 16 for simply saying on tumblr: "i want to date a trans girl."

i dated tme people before that. it didn't work out, and they said "i don't think you're trans." eventually i dated a trans girl. it didn't work out, and she said: "i don't think you're trans." they said this because i didn't want to lose function of or replace my penis.

i was cast out from what i considered at the time to be "the trans community" because i had the audacity to use my penis to pleasure people who asked me to use my penis only to fear what my penis "meant." i was called a rapist because i had a penis, and they were afraid, so it must have been me and my rapist penis that did this, because to them, rape is when it doesn't stop once you become uncomfortable, or: rape is when you wish it didn't happen.

so much of it boiled down to this, and here is "the point":

sickening tenants of transmisogyny include: "please convince me you abhor 'your masculinity.'" obviously: "please prove you are 'born in the wrong body' and not 'a wolf in sheep's clothing'"

most importantly: "please reassure me your penis will not rape me. please convince me you don't want it - or at the very least, that you are are not proud of it like a man is. please convince me it is powerless, that you are harmless."

i grew tired of playing this game. one afternoon, i topped so well and enjoyed it so thoroughly i understood: "i don't need to maximally posture feminine to offset my lack of phallic dysmorphia."

i am an any pronouns, long-haired, many-voiced, breast-implanted, hairy, boyish, motherly, 'bisexual', vers/switch, gender non-conforming androgyne. even now, right now, i come to the epiphany:

i am not "indecisive;" i have decided i want everything

"everything" being: whatever my body and its organs deem worth or capable of being, worth or capable of experiencing. my body and its organs decide what these are; outside parties do not.

i do not use the mens restroom when i "feel like a man". i use the mens restroom when i feel like standing up. i do not use the women's restroom when i "feel like a woman." i use the women's restroom when i feel like sitting down.

the sign on the door means nothing to me, because it is not a part of me. the names my professor, mother, or pharmacist call me mean nothing to me because they are not any of my organs, or any of my thoughts.

this all started with learning: "i do not care what my driver's license calls me. i do not care what the government calls me. they are not me. they're not even my friends."

i would tell people: "i have far less reasons to pursue being legally recognized as 'not a man' than i have reasons to not tell the united states government: 'please add TRANSSEXUAL to my file.'" i am sad my hesitation was not unfounded

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