Transapple, Transpeach, and Fruitophobia

Written by John (the other John).

I was at a person’s house recently in which they invited many people there, and I overheard some nutjob saying that “transwomen” are “women” (i.e., “chix with dix” are “chix”). I should have kept my mouth shut, but I could not resist. So below is a summary of the events when I sarcastically became part of the conversation.

I grabbed an apple, a peach, and a knife. First I unpeeled both fruits carefully with a knife so the peelings for each fruit were one long string of peel. Next I carefully removed the core of each fruit so the seed(s) was/were in one piece in tact together. Next, I placed the apple seeds inside of the peach, and the peach seed inside of the apple (this representing the interchanging of the reproductive organs of males and females). Next, I carefully placed the apple peeling on the exterior of the peach, and the peach peeling on the exterior of the apple (this representing the interchanging outward of appearance of males and females [ex., long hair, makeup, dress, high heels for the dude; mustache, beard, jeans, boots for the female]). Then I said, if I plant the seeds inside of this specific peach (i.e, apple seeds), it would produce an apple tree (this representing a dude giving birth); and if I plant the seeds inside of this specific apple (i.e., peach seed), it would produce a peach tree (this representing a chick producing sperm).

So did this peach transition into an apple, and did this apple transition into a peach? No! I just cut out the parts and transferred them to another. This was not a natural event; to the contrary, it is unnatural. A peach is not an apple, and an apple is not a peach; merely transferring the exterior pieces and interior pieces does NOT alter the essence of what each fruit is. Similarly, a dude cannot become a chick, and a chick cannot become a dude (no matter how f’kd up they may be).

Needless to say, with this very simple demonstration, I very quickly made some friends and I made some enemies.

So if you want to call me a fruitaphobe, well, “f’ u”.