Sperm-producer Rachel Levine calling women "egg-producers" is dickish, but sensible; an unhealthy and inhumane heap of volitional surgical mayhem leading Health and Human Services, perhaps less so

This dude really does hate you, ladies, and if anyone on Earth has ever spent time in hell taking notes, it's this unholy freak. But we've* got your backs, except for the strangely hairy ones

The person serving in the role of U.S. Department of Health and Human Services secretary was born Richard Levine. After fathering and raising two children, Richard underwent some surgical reconstruction and changed his first name to Rachel. Today, “she” is about the best evidence on Earth that these “transitioning” surgeries don’t always do a superior job of creating the required illusion for self and others.

Despite expressing gratitude that he waited to have his junk hacked apart and presumably replaced with some kind of frankenpussy cobbled together from Christ knows what—other parts of him, random gristle from the nearest meat-processing plant—this gibbering freak (check out his grating falsetto) is an unqualified advocate of “gender-affirming” surgeries even for teenagers, which leaves them both sterile and anorgasmic for life. (Many of us intentionally seek one of these states once safely ensconced in free-fornicating adulthood, but it’s always the same one.) He’s also a fan of puberty blockers.

In other words, Levine is a sadist. A sicko. A degenerate. All of the above and more. Although not, at least anytime lately, a bikini model.

Thanks for clearing up another mystery with more rare insights, Snopes

The fact that Levine’s persona is viciously abusive toward all five standard senses—and even makes inroads on clairvoyance and telekinesis— is not the central issue; his hatred of children and desire to ruin their lives is.

But Levine doesn’t just hate kids; he hates everyone. Look at the stringy-haired, slovenly bastard. He certainly hates bona fide women, given that his flabby and obscene attempt at imitation took him less than 15 percent of the way toward “might convince a one-eyed senior citizen.” It makes sense that someone whose thrumming, vividly projected self-loathing centers on not even knowing or accepting his own sex would refer to women as “egg-producers” even were this person not an established or prospective hater.

The government is generating so much chaos at the moment—much of it the result of unforced errors like Joe Biden’s corruption (and arguably treason) and much of it intentional—that Levine championing the nationwide campaign to maim and mangle doesn’t get nearly the attention it should.

“Egg-producer” isn’t the worst insult that has come from Levine or any of his demented emissaries. But I’m glad he chose it, because it offers a chance to show anew that sex is completely non-binary.

Chromosomes and the combinations in which they appear are not the ultimate determinant of human sex, though they are an extremely high-fidelity guide. When humans are born, our bodies are primed to create one of two kinds of gametes, or sex cells. Our gonads will either manufacture a few hundred relatively massive eggs (ova), or it will make a nearly uncountable number of far tinier sperm cells (spermatozoa). Every gonadally intact human body will make one type of gamete or the other. Not both, and not some as-yet unidentified third option. And eggs and sperm are easy to tell apart.

While it is true that errors in zygote formation can lead to unusual and usually extremely rare chromosome combinations, or karyotypes—for example, a single X-chromosome only, or XO (Turner syndrome) or XXY (Klinefelter syndrome)—each of these individuals will make either eggs or sperm.

One or the other.

While trans-rights activists don’t actually care whatsoever about biology—and the relatively few of today’s trans-identifying people with real gender dysphoria acknowledge and often abhor this—they nevertheless like to talk a lot of anti-scientific sma,ck perhaps just to rub in the fact that fat ugly racists rule the fitness media just as murderers and ululating jabsters with their eyes rolling back into their dented heads rule medicine.

The whole palette of forced metagenders and ad hoc identities is exemplified by the Nikki Hiltz show. The mass embracing of this borderline mongoloid was the reason I ultimately quit watching track, even if it was already a stew of halfwit scolds and lame-brained undesirables for a slew of reasons before that locked into place. And every time someone tries to say that what Hiltz is doing is harmless to others and her being her, watch what happens to anyone who even lightly contradicts on that goofy bitch. Mein Gott, the American record holder in an event recognized even by non-runners is an imperious retard.

Although what remains of my life will be a merry shambles of lassitude and increasing withdrawal from the economy, people, and any kind of creature that talks, I will never regret losing one opportunity on that life as a result of using my brain and having the nerve to tell oppressive griftlords, censors, and stupid people what they can so with their ideas about social reform, and grammar reform, and science reform. Especially the really slow, sloppy-looking ones whose motivation for dragging their huge, pimply asses across women’s sports might as well be on a neon billboard on the top of the Empire State Building, with a dancing midget in the midst of a opioid overdose on top of that (probably in blackface).

Not one of us was “put here” for any externally assigned reason or purpose, although someone surlier and with more ambition than me should demolish the CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia using a fleet of armored bulldozers and without giving anyone—even the clerical staff—an opportunity to safely evacuate the premises. But I forswear the idea of spending one conscious minute nodding along with dangerously backward nonsense just so a small cadre of cackling psychos can hoard even more than they already have.

I will confess at this point that much of my malaise in most areas is driven at least as much by strong conviction we’re all fa-fa-fuuuuuucked anyway. If I were only worried about censorship or an excess of daily stupidity from dodgeable sources, I’d still be saving money and planning to pay taxes and averting my eyes. But I don’t think I’m the only one who should be worried about his own life ending “prematurely,” whoever or whatever the causative agent(s).

So, we’re not going to have an election next year in the U.S. because there won’t be a need for one. These crazy-ass kneegrows really do plan to start World War III.

Oh, and on a related note, yeah, it turns out the United States Government really has been knowingly sending Ukrainians to their slaughter all along:

Uh-huh. So keep those UKR flags flying stateside, you hopeless, masked-up cunts!

And for my part, fuck everything, including moderating myself, or keeping normal hours, or bothering with any more than the basics of being present for a dog and a small handful of humans. This bullshit is all so fucking gross, and often more dismal than funny. And it didn’t need to be (and, though I concede nothing will ever, ever change for the better for most of us, still technically doesn’t).