A friend asked me today about engaging in supportive activity in the context of a transgender group here in Sheffield. Firstly, I said, my son doesn’t attend anymore. And then somewhat secondly, I said that I don’t engage with those issues in an understanding, Softly Softly manner. I understand it as rather like a wart or Beauty Spot, something that expresses a deep feature of the social body. It’s something violent and expressive but not deliberate. it’s also not real. It doesn’t exist outside it’s generation. It is I suppose rather a Deleuzian type feature. A node. I’m not really a pacifist at heart. I respect transgender positioning but it’s something violent. It induces disgust or lust. But it’s not cuddly. The eventual moment, the anaesthetic, that is no piece of soft music. The idea the idea that it might be or could be is a profoundly fascist expression. The reason why we might eventually sterilise has the same rationale. Turn the music low, dim the lights, a sort of state organised never to be natural childbirth.