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Q+ing the World

sarahjn1977

Written February 2025


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In between crying in their cars for TikTok videos, and aggressively shouting down women at women-only events, the achingly boring (despite the sickeningly colourful hair and makeup) trans nutters spend much of the remainder of their time bemoaning a lack of representation of their ilk in society. I, for one, beg to fucking differ, fellas. The rest of us find quite the opposite. There are few areas of life left unscathed by the prolonged and aggressive assault from the trans radical activists, and their legions of supporters. See my previous piece about corporate capture here.

 

Even the Royal Museums Greenwich have been bent over and screwed by the alphabet brigade, and are currently busy “celebrating” a week-long festival dedicated to the cult of hair dye and sparkly eyeshadow. Swept aside are the stories of swashbuckling men, bravely facing the might of the oceans, and tiptoed in on kitten heels are the drag queens and queer folk, fit to burst with excitement at the prospect of yet another platform from which they can spout their nonsense and biological untruths at unsuspecting youngsters visiting the museum during their half term hols. The timing of the exhibit is no coincidence, of course. This lot are all about capturing the kids. I urge you to take a look at the website here. You just could not make it up.

 

The BBC saw fit to helpfully promote said exhibition on their breakfast show, suggesting families visit during the half term. Quite unsurprising given that the organisation’s entire schedule is awash with “Pride”. No matter the news story, the BBC will find a thousand willing trans folx and drag queens to interview about it. From the cost-of-living crisis to climate bullshittery, the BBC have ensured we all know just how drag queens have been personally affected. In a recent World Service piece on the brutality of the Iranian regime upon its women, the BBC chose to feature a bloke who dresses as a woman, instead of an actual woman. It is almost as if real women are not worthy of BBC airtime. Perhaps we can fact check this with Marianna?

 

The “entertainment” arm of the BBC (I know, I know) are as enthusiastic as the news desk to promote Q+ perversion. So-called drama, Waterloo Road, was in on the act early doors, when way back in 2011 they featured a cross-dressing boy character. In a particularly revealing scene, the boy enters the girls’ PE changing rooms, while the girls are out on the playing field. Like a peeper of old, the boy skulks around the room, touching the girls’ things longingly, before going into full-on serial killer mode and actually sniffing a girl’s bra. At that very moment, the girls, whose possessions he is perving over, stream into the room, catching him red-handed in his deviant act. They quite understandably explode in anger, and he gets a well-deserved slap from the owner of the bra whose aroma he had been happily inhaling. And yet, in true BBC style, it is the boy, whose feelings are apparently horribly hurt, that we are encouraged to have sympathy for. He’s oppressed, obviously, not a pervert. What bigots those girls are!

 

Another BBC offering, Doctors (the term “actors” for the cast of this atrocity can be used only loosely) has also featured trans storylines, once again representing them en masse as sad, oppressed individuals, navigating through a world of bigotry and hate. One episode even featured a furry – a grown ass bloke who has a fetish for dressing up as a teddy bear. Said furry lives with his Grandad, who rightly calls his grandson a “weirdo”, but is later shamed into apologising for the apparent slur. On the money, Grandad, I say. No apologies needed.

 

It is just all so very 1984. “The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command” wrote Orwell. While we can see and hear trans insanity at every turn, we are simultaneously told that those angry and aggressive ideologues are oppressed and in danger, and in need of support and kindness. We are told that they are underrepresented and misunderstood. Feel uncomfortable with a burly bloke in stilettos using the same loos as you at the shopping centre? Bigot. They just want to pee, dammit. One only needs to look at the atrocity that Sandie Peggie is enduring right now to see that “trans people” are very far from oppressed. The Scottish nurse was suspended for objecting to a man using the female nurses’ changing rooms. She was accused of bullying by a man, Dr Upton. The trust, NHS Fife, have seen fit to support the man, and have deemed that he is indeed permitted to use the changing room for females. That Sandie is having to have this fight is shocking enough. That her union, the Royal College of Nurses, has refused to represent her is a scandal.

 

Women have been thrown to the wolves, and “trans people” have been elevated to near saintly status. Schools and universities, hospitals, councils, shops, banks, libraries, the police, and, as we have seen with the Royal Museums Greenwich, galleries and museums, all entirely captured and falling over themselves to promote and signal their virtue towards the Q+ people.  

 

Remember the “queer mushrooms” at Kew in 2023? And just this week, the V&A are in on the action, with an exhibition season that “unearths previously hidden or unknown LGBTQ histories in the collections”. Of course it does. All these captured institutions are so painfully on message, always apparently revealing “previously unknown” trans characters. They are hell bent on rewriting history, painting all that has passed in a hue of pink and blue. There have even been suggestions that Queen Elizabeth 1st was a “trans woman”. Give me strength.

 

In 2013, HM Prison Reading was closed. For a short time after its closure, visitors were allowed access, and I went to see the place where Oscar Wilde had been imprisoned, convicted of “gross indecency” relating to acts of homosexuality, and from where he wrote his tragic and epic poem, The Ballad of Reading Gaol. It was a haunting experience, and the injustice and prejudice once aimed towards homosexuals was brought into stark relief within those walls. Wilde’s poem, incidentally, is a masterpiece on brutality disguised as justice. The temporary opening of this former place of incarceration of such a famous and influential inmate was handled beautifully. It highlighted the courage with which men like Wilde endured their very real persecution. It was a cold and grey place, and the curators, thankfully, did not see fit to fill the place with rainbow flags and blue and pink bunting.

 

Conversely, I find the snivelling, whining, and at the same time aggressive and threatening manner exhibited by the Q+ conscripts in recent times to be at complete odds to the dignified remembrance I witnessed at Reading. Exhibitions like that at Kew and the V&A, and now the Royal Museums Greenwich are evidence of nothing more than the capture of our educational institutions, as universities churn out DEI obsessed individuals into these workplaces. The entitled brats in charge of programming these events seem incapable of nuanced and subtle interpretations, and are instead consumed by a desperate desire to queer the world, and invert the meaning of “man” and “woman”. Trans, non-binary, asexual, and any number of bizarre interpretations of the human condition are the only thing that matter to them, and the modus operandi is always to throw a riot of rainbows across everything. This is, of course, how propaganda works. Drown out any other messaging with your own, and people will eventually fall under the spell.   

 

I have more than once been accused of acting like a 1950s housewife. Well, if it makes me akin to a 1950s housewife to not want boys sniffing girls’ bras in changing rooms, to not want the normalisation of people dressing as animals to get their rocks off, nor to have the story of every historical figure queered, then so be it. A 1950s housewife I am, and a 1950s housewife I will remain.

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