Taking swipe at the blatant sexism of YouTube

Auckland law student Olivia Ludbrock stars in her Robin Thicke parody video of the controversial song “Blurred Lines” which was recently removed from YouTube for unbelievably stupid reasons, so stupid I refuse to give them the dignity of mentioning.

This is the video it is a reply to, and we all know YouTube is about communicating by video, (well that’s what they advertise anyway) Oh no YouTube has made a change, now YouTubing is not about replying by video, oh well too bad, this is still a reply video.

no more video replies

Transsexual Empire

I’ve recently obtained a copy of Transsexual Empire by Janice Raymond and you can get your updated copy from here too:

Trans Empire

Janice Raymond’s book is essentially about how men are invading into women’s space by artificially reconstructing themselves to be female looking. Janice Raymond also asserts the same of female to male transsexuals, females invading into men’s space, but with less emphasis.

The below video is used to be titled “From 45X/46XY True Hermaphrodite with CAH to Intersex Fraudster”

Rudy Alaniz has been on YouTube for years asserting ‘she’ is a True Hermaphrodite, has Congenital Adrenal Virilising Hyperplasia, and has 45X/46XY mosaicism, and that ‘she’ is in the process of transitioning male to female. I’ve already proven ‘her’ True Hermaphrodite and 45X/46XY claims to be absolute lies. However ‘her’ claims to be in transition and to have CAH I’ve not yet proven to be false, but I think the likelihood of them being true is so close to zero they might as well be zero.

Rudy Alaniz aka Mishakailana as ‘she’ is known as on YouTube has been in transition ever since I first started on YouTube in 2008, which has to be the longest transition I have ever heard of, for a male to female transsexual. It has been so long and so little change has occurred I’m more inclined to believe these days that ‘she’ is in fact a Female Impersonator.

It appears to me that ‘radical feminists’ and persons with Disorders of Sex Development have a great deal in common when it comes to healthy males invading into spaces set aside for them. Of course persons with Disorders of Sex Development can be either male or female and can be, or not, feminists. My criticism of is of persons who pretend to be Transsexual using a medical diagnosis to justify their claims, which are in fact medically impossible.

The latest false claimant of a Disorder of Sex Development to justify transitioning to female is Chloe Prince, who pretended to be diagnosed with Klinefelter’s syndrome, and still pretends to be diagnosed with Klinefelter’s syndrome. However, Transsexualism is a bona fide psychiatric illness characterised by no other disorder of a sexual, or gender identity, being present.

The diagnosis is not made if the individual has a concurrent physical intersex condition (e.g., androgen insensitivity syndrome or congenital adrenal hyperplasia) (Criteria C). In proposed changes to DSM 5 the statement is “B. The individual does not have an intersex or sexual development condition”

Therefore their claim of a medical diagnosis automatically cancels their Transsexual claim. If these people really do have the Disorders of Sex Development they claim, they would never get any Medical Insurance, or other medical surgical assistance, to transition, as they don’t qualify. If they have accessed Insurance to pay for their transition surgery, this is strong indication that they do not have a Disorder of Sex Development.

Originally I intended to debunk Janice Raymond’s book as I thought it heavily relied on information from disgraced psychologist Dr John Money, when determining at which point gender identity is established. As it happens she has as much support for his theories as many other people, not much at all.

Transsexual male to constructed female, are not female. They did not live the life of a female, with the prejudice Janice Raymond describes. They were in fact the privileged male, and then decided that they wanted what they perceive as the best of both worlds.

They tend to be males who have had their family, I’ve observed. They’re heterosexual, when the’re male attracted to females. They are reconstructed males to look like females, that makes perfect sense to me.

The motivation for their reconstruction is what Janice Raymond seeks to explain. I can’t, I can’t understand why any normal fertile man wants to emasculate himself, when he can just as easily dress up as a female, and pretend like Mishakailana, Nicky K D Chaleunphone, and Gavan Coleman.

None of these people have lived a life as a female would, and cannot possibly claim to be female as a result, yet they all do. They are all anatomical males with a Y chromosome and at least 1 X. They are also very good friends, suggesting a certain ‘copy cat’ mentality.

I can’t understand females who say they feel male, yet don’t understand why biological males they grew up with reject their transition. All the males ever knew the person as was female, how can they be expected to accept the person as male, simply because s/he says so? And why, if she feels so male, does she not understand her biological male counterparts?

Wanting to be male or female is not the same as living male or female. I tend to agree with Janice Raymond.

Traditionally Considered to be Male

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I thought this was interesting:


I always thought the word ‘masculinity’ pertained to adult males. I am also a parent, and my son has severe delays, and when I was told of the name of it the first thing I did was look it up, so why would a parent of an XXY boy not look up XXY?

This idea presented by Shirley Ratcliffe is pretty close to my idea as to why some XXY men want to erroneously claim they’re aladin sane2 androgynous, (Chris Somers) Androgynous hermaphrodite, (Chris Somers, Gavan Coleman)Hermaphrodite intersex, (Chris Somers, David Strachan, Gavan Coleman, Michael Noble)female even female! (Gavan Coleman)

They all report having this odd idea of their sex after they discovered they were infertile. Being XXY was not a problem at all. Being diagnosed with Klinefelter’s syndrome wasn’t an issue. Having Gynaecomastia was a challenge, since 2 of them had it removed BEFORE they were diagnosed XXY.


Chris Somers tries to talk his way around that by claiming he was pressurised by the ‘society’ of his all boys’ school that he attended at the time, to conform his body to masculine normal.

I expect Gavan Coleman will do the same in time, it is his ‘modus operadi’ to blame others for his decisions. It’ll mean nothing to him to say ‘I really liked my tits and I really wanted to keep them, but in order to conform to masculine normal I capitulated to teasing.’

I don’t believe David Strachan ever had Gynaecomastia as mentioning it seems to have been an after thought, so he can more readily ‘fit in’ with the real Intersex people, and because in teenagers and men with Klinefelter’s syndrome it’s associated with a lack of testosterone. It CAN be a side effect of taking testosterone initially, but minor tweaking of the dose will cause it to subside. All these intersex types believe breasts are sex organs, and not disease in a males at all. There’s no way it could kill these guys! 🙂

“After 20 years of hormones, my body is
almost supermasculine (except for my
breasts). I feel like hormones have poisoned my body

Cameron 1995”
ISNA Newsletter

Of course all that poison didn’t stop him from taking it. In theory he started taking testosterone in 1975, just a wee while before me, and I don’t feel poisoned at all. So someone KNEW David Cameron (surprisingly similar name) was lying in 2002 when he claimed XXY boys were being experimented on, with the ‘poison’ testosterone, in the Fall 2002 ISNA Newsletter!

It’s a terrible thing when the charities one writes to makes their publications public knowledge, for the rest of time, that all can read. If this Cameron fellow was obese he could have developed ‘man boobs’ like any other obese man can develop. XXY men develop breast cancer much more frequently than XY men. It’s amazing this Cameron fellow was still alive after 20 years of Gynaecomastia! And the poor man just like David Iris Cameron Strachan was dissatisfied with the KS&A, as he perceived them to be a parent group, who didn’t represent homosexual men. This Cameron fellow of 1995 looks like the identical twin of David Strachan, associated with AIC today.

According to the poor Cameron fellow his doctors told him nothing about Klinefelter’s syndrome, and all the ‘men’ with it were homosexual and/or Transsexual. It must be an American thing, I have met in New Zealand 3 homosexual guys who are treated for Klinefelter’s syndrome. The 12 others never volunteered their sexuality. So what 20% were homosexual, what’s the usual rate? 🙂

Depending on the report Gynaecomastia does have a wide variability of effect, both in frequency and duration, and karyotype, XY boys in puberty get it too, and overweight XY men.

But infertility is pretty much universal!

Their masculinity was majorly challenged by being infertile, as masculinity is closely related to virility and fertility. I was quite surprised to discover that. In fact it’s a state of being male at any age where virility and fertility are assumed. If you’ve male genitals and you can’t meet the expectations of society, ‘how can I possibly be a real man,’ I’m certain that was their thinking. As blaming others for their failures is a factor in their personalities, they’d naturally be drawn to a group of people who have genuine issues with the medical profession, not made up issues many XXY men invent.

Maybe that’s how I preserved my sense of masculinity, by my understanding of the word? So that leaves hope for these emasculated in their minds souls to regain their true selves, and be the real men they were designed to be. Then of course they’d have to compete in the real world with real men, and I suspect they may be a tad bit unprepared for the contest. Far better in their minds to completely capitulate, than even attempt to try, as that requires work.

All these men are intersex as they can’t understand genetics. In at least Michael Noble’s eyes I’m a genius, I can magically make the additional X disappear, it’s all my doing. I’m a very clever man in his eyes. I know the power of genes and chromosomes are just carriers of genes, and if the genes don’t function, or do function where they’re not meant to be, problems will occur.

I think they all believe they have two complete X chromosomes fully functioning in all their cells, they believe they’re female of one kind or other. Not a lot different from being Transsexual.

Of course if Michael’s forte wasn’t Creative Writing, and was Genetics, he’d know all females born with female genitals, only have 1 X fully functioning in all their cells, just like all males do, even all XXY males! It’s just so sad all these potentially clever men have dedicated their lives to their ignorant stupidity. Imagine they all could have been great writers, or explorers, or even musicians and teachers if they’d just set their minds on education, instead of self justification!

Oh well, never mind. At least they can’t breed and pass their lack of knowledge on to anybody.


The Mission

On with the mission. – (This is from 1971 – Granddad had been dead for a few months) – The only thing that had ever come out of my penis before then was pee. In Science I was learning that if the conditions of a liquid changed then the liquid can become a gas, or a solid. Well what about something between solid and liquid? What about Sticky? So as heat was involved in my first discovery, and as heat was involved in my second discovery, heat must be the catalyst. That seemed logical to me. If I heat my pee up it will turn into this sticky stuff. That was the Theory.

Proving it is going to be difficult. Just being in the house on my own was a mission all of itself. For some reason nobody trusted me. Well maybe that’s stretching the truth just a little? There were some excellent reasons why nobody trusted me.

  • Like; arriving at school with a coloured piece of paper, that happened to be a large value bank note!
  • Like; losing my underpants at school and not knowing where I put them. I still don’t know where they went, must have fallen off! I had my shorts though, what was the big concern? Maybe I forgot to put them on before I left for school?
  • Like; being found with a leg of lamb under my arm, in bed. I guess I got up for a midnight snack? I just nodded off before I took it back to the fridge.
  • Like; growing several apples trees outside my bedroom window, from the apples I’d half eaten. I was good at gardening even back then, before I knew anything about Horticulture.
  • Like; climbing in through my parents bedroom window, directly under live power lines. I was at least 2 feet away, what harm could I come to?
  • 149 wainuiomata rd

    There was to be a school trip to Picton, and for once my mother wasn’t going, she had something else on, so I took advantage of it. Before then, watch this:

    Exactly the same thing happened to me, except I didn’t have any “Sex Ed.” I had to work it out for myself, and not very well. I saw a Maori woman on TV, no idea about what the programme was about, and I dreamed about her, and it was weird. I dreamed about other people too, and they weren’t in that TV programme. I woke up – and the dream really should have gone on, where the dreamed ended wasn’t the exciting bit. I thought I’d wet myself again. This was getting a bit much, this isn’t on, this is not fair, at all, I’m being cheated out of my dreams, and something’s making me wet myself, but not with pee!

    You can see how my attention is being grabbed. I had to find out what this was, and it could have all been settled if my dad had VOLUNTEERED the answer. He KNEW what was happening, he must have, and he said NOTHING.


    First on the left is Murray, in 1971, this is the school trip to Picton, I’m not in this photograph, we weren’t even in the same class anymore. That’s how long I had to wait to execute my plan, about a year, and for all that time I’d not gained any new information, even after what was supposed to be “Sex Education.

    So I got back from the trip to Picton and nobody was home, as I expected. Again I climbed through that open window under the power lines. It worked the first time, no reason it won’t work a second. I got out one of my mothers cooking pots, peed in it, and set it on the stove to heat it up. I hadn’t considered the smell, so I opened a few windows. I had that pee boiling for at least 5 minutes and it didn’t change one little bit! What had I forgotten? This was a complete disaster. A total failure.

    I turned the stove off and tipped the pee down the sink. I got a Tea Towel and wiped the inside of the pot, I didn’t think it needed washing as it didn’t look dirty. Hung the Tea Towel up, put the pot away, closed the windows, and left, through the window. I had to get back to Parkway Intermediate to be picked up to be taken back to where I was, I was supposed to wait at Parkway after we got back from Picton – but I detoured.

    Talking about Puberty

    In New Zealand schools today sex is a subject from year 1 to year 8 (I think?) maybe it’s 9? Yes New Zealand has succumbed to international pressure to organise schools in a more uniform fashion. I think that was a policy of David Lange, former NZ Prime Minister. I don’t approve. I like the old system. New Entrants, Primmers, Standards, Forms. That’s the way it used to be.

    When I was at Primary school sex wasn’t taught at all. There was an experiment I think in Form 1 at Parkway Intermediate (middle school, intermediates are still classified as primary schools) to incorporate some sex education, but it was all about girls, it was pretty boring.

    My friend Malcolm and I sat at the back of the class chatting about fishing. Until one of the imported tutors mentioned something about sperm. That caught our attention. Mrs Forde at Fernlea School showed us how male frogs spread sperm over the eggs to fertilise them and make new frogs. So this class was about how to make new people.

    It went like this, I think it’s about right:

    “If the egg is not fertilised by the sperm the egg and the lining are evacuated from the woman’s body.”

    Maybe they didn’t use the word ‘evacuated’ but whatever word it was, it meant that.

    Malcolm to Graeme “How does the sperm get in there?”

    Graeme to Malcolm “I dunno.” shrug shoulders

    Malcolm to Graeme “Well, ask them!”

    Graeme to Malcolm “You wanna know you ask them.”

    Malcolm to Graeme “I’m not asking them, you ask them.”

    Graeme to Malcolm “We’ll listen a bit more, they might tell us, we won’t have to ask them.”

    Malcolm to Graeme “Good idea.” Thumbs up!

    I suppose what Mrs Forde did was like sex education, but she wasn’t a qualified teacher and none of her classes were on the curriculum. She was the last option when it came to finding a teacher for the worst behaving class at Fernlea School. Even the girls were a handful for any normal teacher. We had teachers that stayed for about a week, or less. It was bedlam, and I’m not kidding. I think my last school report from Fernlea School was filled out by 6 different teachers! The Headmaster doesn’t normally take class.

    Then these imported tutors went on and on and on and on and on about girl stuff, it was just drivel! There was nothing interesting at all. We could have chatted about fishing the whole lesson and missed nothing, oh except for the sperm remark.

    Where does sperm come from?

    How does the sperm get into the woman?

    You’d think that MIGHT be covered in Sex Education! 😛

    Back in Fernlea School when puberty began I was, ‘well endowed.’ That how they say it eh! The boys had competitions to see who had the biggest penis. It was a regular event. There was only two of us who started puberty, that we could see, in our Standard, and I just happened to have more of everything, length, girth and hair. The other boy, Malcolm had no hair. And all the other boys had no development at all, a couple of them didn’t even have a whole penis, they looked weird and they looked like they knew they looked weird. I don’t even know why they joined in, unless it was the same reason I joined in, to see what was happening? They were like my cousins, a striped naked penis at the end of it. I now know that called circumcised. This was sex education, Fernlea School style.

    Of course I didn’t know it was called a penis. I didn’t know what balls were called either, or the bag they were in. I had absolutely no knowledge at all, and neither did anybody else in our Standard, or if they did know they weren’t letting on. Apparently it’s up to parents to teach children these basic facts. The names of the body parts. What the hell is difficult about that?

    Years later I was chatting to my mother at her house, I was living somewhere in Wellington, she was having some sort of dinner party and I just dropped in, unexpectedly. She seemed happy to see me, the feeling wasn’t mutual. Anyway she was chatting about how she taught us all about sex. What a joke! Anyway it turns out that her plan was to be completely honest. When we asked questions she would answer them truthfully. Then she added, “but Graeme never asked any questions!” Oh shit!

    It was always my fault, everything that ever went wrong was my fault. Who was the parent? Who had all the knowledge? Who had nothing? Figure it out this is not difficult. Oh for fucks sake. What about dad? He was never there, he was working, overseas. I have post cards from him instructing me on how to behave. Parenting by postcard! That’s a novel approach. Parents have a lot to do with all this shit you know!

    Anyway on with my account, talking about Puberty.

    When Malcolm saw I had hair he wanted a closer look. He invited me to go swimming with him one Saturday afternoon when I was out riding my bike. We didn’t have towels or togs, but that was no big deal, that was how we always swam in the local river. I never could quite understand that, at the river we swam naked, but at the pool we had to wear togs, why? In Wainuiomata they were all the same people going to different places. It makes no sense at all. Anyway It was not uncommon for us to swim naked so I had no clue swimming was not the only thing on Malcolm’s mind.

    This is when I discovered I did not have the biggest penis, he was impressive. I was ‘gob smacked’ that phrase has nothing to do with oral sex. I was speechless. I had never seen such a big and bald scrotum & penis. He wanted me to masturbate him – of course I had no idea what masturbation was either, well not in words anyway. I knew how to do it I just didn’t know what it was called, and I didn’t know anybody else did it until that moment. Anyway I didn’t masturbate him as a car load of other people arrived at the river, and here was us fully erect trying desperately to get our clothes on before we were seen. It was terrifying.

    A short time later, clothed, we met up again, and I said “Do you want me to rub you now?” “Oh no” he said, “I’ve finished.” 😛

    At the time I looked like this, facially:


    But that was just the first ‘incident’ there were plenty more with other boys, because when it gets out you have hair and nobody else has hair, everybody wants a ‘look see’ when there is no sex education, I think? That’s my theory.

    Girls start puberty before boys so they didn’t want to have a look, they knew what pubic hair looked like.

    Back to Parkway Intermediate:

    At the end of their little talk, that went all afternoon, the imported tutors said “If you have any questions wait here and we’ll answer them.”

    There’s our queue, we’ve been waiting all afternoon for this moment, to ask our questions. We agreed that we both put our hands up and the boy who was selected by the imported tutors would be the one to ask the questions. Boys are smart, that was a perfect compromise.

    It was like all the girls didn’t hear a bloody thing. Asking about the lining, the egg release, the ovaries, the thinaggmy tubes, there were dozens of them, girls that is. Why did they bother going, don’t they pay attention? I could recite what they were told verbatim almost.

    Those imported tutors just didn’t want to let boys ask questions. I had one of them lined up in my sights, I’d made perfect eye contact, she knew I wanted to ask a question, and she picked a girl.

    This went on and on and on, with Malcolm too, they would not let us boys ask our questions. It was really frustrating. Totally annoying. Eventually we gave up. So it wasn’t in 1970 we discovered where sperm came from, and how it got into the woman.

    There were going to be a few more years of waiting, and if I were fertile, I’d have been a father several times over!