The hormone replacement therapy of dairy
Ah yes, and it was as I was walking home from the bus stop in the rain that I realized dogs are cats.
I Realized I Was Trans While Making Cheese
The realization didn’t strike overnight. It took many months. But the daily evidence of one thing becoming another, enzymes turning liquid to solid, milk into curd into cheese, showed me possible futures.
Yup yup yup. Impeccable logic. One thing changes into another, therefore all things can change into all things other. An orange can become a cruise ship, a planet can become a spider, a bro can turn into a hairdo.
I spent four years immersed in cheddaring, my life revolving around transformation. And it was there on the production floor, with salt-crusted arms, whey-splattered glasses, and thousands of pounds of curd ready to take shape before me, that I realized I was trans.
I know the feeling. You cut back some aggressive blackberry canes and suddenly everything looks different. Magic! Therefore humans can change sex.
Today I can’t not see the pattern. Whether making cheese or beer or pickles, there’s symbolic liberation in the process of transformation. As the writer Julian K. Jarboe once tweeted, “God blessed me by making me transsexual for the same reason he made wheat but not bread and fruit but not wine: because he wants humanity to share in the act of creation.”
Fermentation is hope for trans folks. If people can conceptualize cucumbers becoming pickles, then they can grasp a trans person’s name change. If the possibility of Camembert, Parmesan, and ricotta exist within milk, then think of all the possible genders to choose from! After all, what is rennet if not the hormone replacement therapy of dairy?
It’s apparently not parody.
Sounds like they got kicked in the head trying to milk a bull.
Hahahahaha
That was a trans cow, thank you very much, and that was its lady hoof.
“I Realized I Was Left-Handed While Ballroom Dancing”.
“I Realized I Was Bald While Sewing Pillows.”
“I Realized I Was Double-Jointed While Watching “Rick and Morty”.
What utter feckless dreck.
Piglet and Papito joint internet winners BTW.
Say “feckless dreck” very fast 10 times.
My god, what drivel. This is worse than clown fish. Last time I checked, pickles don’t demand you refer to them by the other sex’s pronouns. “Conceptualizing” cucumbers as pickles doesn’t turn cucumbers into pickles. There are a number of steps along the way. Concepts help us understand reality after the fact, but they don’t create it out of thin air or whole cloth.
What a very odd and particular connection to make. There are innumerable “transformative” processes that surround us. They might all contain “symbolic liberation”, depending on one’s literary or artistic inclinations. Not all of their possible transformations are as desirable, or inspirational. Some of the same batch of milk this individual used to make cheese might have ended up as a rancid stick of butter. The neighbouring cucumber to the ones H. found so comforting and illustrative of positive change, might have ended up rotting in the field after being pecked at by a bird, or gnawed on by a rabbit. So what about the lessons these transformatiosn might have offered?
Inspiration and transformation are the raw materials of art, but one’s body is not a can of milk or a bushel of cucumbers. Neither is going to become something they cannot possibly become, like a bottle of chardonnay, or a carburator. It’s not just highly unlikely: it can’t be done. The same with changing sex. This is straw into gold territory, not turning milk into a wheel of gouda. There’s a difference between the actual and the illusory; mixing them up rarely ends well.
Also, the analogy is simply bad. Man to woman, or woman to man, isn’t milk to cheese. It’d be cow’s milk to goat’s milk–a transmutation between two exclusive starting points. Maybe call it lead to gold, it’s as much magical thinking as any alchemist’s notebook.
As for me, I identify as a bag of groceries taken off the shelf before its expiration date.
The analogy does not even work if you try to ignore the stupidity:
When milk changes to cheese, there is an objective, clearly discernible change to it. No one would call cheese “milk” or confuse the two, there is also no de-cheesing when cheese finally realizes it still feels milky.
It is the same logic error they are making with the clownfish argument: “See, clownfish can change their sex as we can see by their objectively visible production of gametes, therefore humans can change sex if they just feel this way.”
“there is also no de-cheesing when cheese finally realizes it still feels milky” – very good.