Monthly Archives: July 2013

Personally, I find it quite perverted that people base your whole identity on whether you have a dick or a vagina.

Sure sex does make a difference — penis owners will never be able to experience those frustrating periods or vagina owners will never go through that desperate sex drive, all thanks to stupid testosterone.

But gender, I think, is just a farce.

I mean, this whole idea of women wear pink and men love sports is constricting and illogical.

Of course, it’s THE greatest tool of patriarchy to control its slaves — to keep the women inside their homes and keep the men busy trying to reach that ideal of a ‘strong’ caveman, with fragile egos, repressed emotions and artificially hyper-inflated sexuality.

This post will thus be a collection of ramblings, glorifying all those people who dare to fling their poop at Gender and completely expose the frivolousness of the whole concept.


It’s natural that I start with this community of South Asian eunuchs, as I belong to India.
It is rather interesting that in a society which is generally very hostile to LGBT groups, there exists a traditional community of transgenders/gay/hermaphrodites which have been historically ‘accepted’ if we can say that.

One gets acquainted with them since the early days of their childhood.
They come to your house when they hear that a son has been born (nowadays I’ve heard they come irrespective of the baby’s sex) and celebrate by singing and dancing (for a fee of course).

You see them begging on the streets.

After a while, they fade into the background like all the beggars and the lepers.

But I think, we should not mistake this toleration of this community as acceptance.
Hijra is considered to be an abuse in the ‘normal’ conventional society. It is the nuclear weapon against a man’s ego.

Historically, they have been used as bodyguards for princesses, prostitutes and have generally been on the fringes of the society.
The ingenuity of the Indian society is that sometime, some clever man would’ve thought about the brilliant idea of tolerating them, calling them representatives of the god with two genders, and hence exploiting them quiet easily.

But the community does goes on to show that gender is not determined by your dick or vagina. It’s just a robe people make you wear and you can always replace it with something else.

Female Bodybuilders

These are the real life Amazonians of our world!
Of course they are rare and underpaid as compared to their male counterparts, but it personally makes me happy that they exist.
They don’t really ditch gender, but they definitely fuck ALL the gender norms and roles.
They are the kind of women who can make any man piss their pants.

And  I really appreciate them because of this (this doesn’t mean I love peeing in my pants though).

But it is rather sad that these women, as always, are so under-appreciated.
The size of their bodies are almost equal to male bodybuilders and yet they have to do things like muscle-worship to survive.

Here’s a handy definition of muscle worship from our own Wikipedia–
Muscle worship is a social behaviour, usually with a sexual aspect (a form of body worship), in which a participant, the worshiper, touches the muscles of another participant, the dominator, in sexually arousing ways, which can include rubbing, massaging, kissing, licking, “lift and carry”, and various wrestling holds. The dominator is almost always either a bodybuilder, a fitness competitor, or wrestler—an individual with a large body size and a high degree of visible muscle mass. The worshiper is often, but not always, skinnier, smaller, and more out of shape. Muscle worship can include participants of both sexes and all sexual orientations.


So, we all know about them.
They are people of one sex and of the opposite gender.
I’ll just post the video of Candy Darling, my favorite of them all.
She’s fucking beautiful and OH MY GOSH so awesome!

Here’s another one!


The Protest: Cicada July/August 2013

The Protest: Cicada July/August 2013

I got published 🙂
Click on the picture to read the whole article.

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Anatomy Of Change

The Slave is in a quest for himself.

His armor is heavy,
His feet are shackled
In boots of war
He didn’t start.

When he rips them off
There is filth.

A black slime which he inherited.

He claws on this skin
Which chokes him from within.

He is black
He is poor
He is white
He is rich
He is not just his parents’ progeny
He is not just a vessel for their filth.

He is the child of his own dreams.

He hates it when they say
He’s trapped in their heresy
Slave of the body
They decided to give him.

He wears the pearls
Which he stole from her mother
Simply because they forbid him to.

But he realizes
Its free to be naked.

And he burns his skin away.

He shall betray his DNA.

And all that remains
Is his bare bones —

The Anatomy Of Change.

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