Meme’s Humor: Keeping the Transgender Fairy Away
When my boys were young, I was a vigilant father. Before going to bed, I checked underneath their beds and looked inside their closets to make sure no transgender fairy was hiding there, waiting to climb into their minds and convince them they were girls. All that diligence paid off. They still have all the equipment God gave them.
Of course, that makes about as much sense as the man who walked in circles, throwing shredded paper over his right shoulder. When I asked what he was doing, he said, “Keeping the elephants away.” I pointed out that there were no elephants around. “See?” he replied. “It works.”
Apparently, that man is now advising the Republican Party of Texas.
Last night, while my wife watched the news in Spanish, Greg Abbott appeared to warn us about transgender people and tell us what Gina Hinojosa supposedly wants the government to pay for. Then came Dan Patrick with the same emergency. And Ken Paxton certainly wasn’t going to let the other two corner the market on saving Texas from people most Texans have never knowingly met.
By the third warning, I was ready to check the closets again. Not because I believed them, but because I wanted to see whether Abbott had left a campaign consultant in there.
This isn’t entirely a product of my imagination. Abbott’s campaign has circulated an altered image of Hinojosa alongside a claim about schools and gender transitions. Paxton’s campaign has used AI-generated images of James Talarico in an attack about religion and gender. When the real opponent doesn’t look frightening enough, apparently you order another one from the computer.
Meanwhile, the gas pump is performing a much more convincing disappearing act on my money. The property tax bill arrives without needing a fairy to carry it. And when taxable purchases cost more, the sales tax takes its percentage of the higher price. Nobody has to hide underneath my bed to get into my wallet.
But apparently I’m supposed to put those concerns aside. Abbott, Patrick, and Paxton have identified something more urgent than whether working people can afford to live here: making sure I spend the evening worrying about somebody else’s clothes, bathroom, or medical care.
Their billionaire friends, meanwhile, can afford a considerably more practical political agenda. They spend money to get the government they want. The rest of us get commercials explaining whom we should fear. Musk alone has poured enormous sums into Republican political groups, including efforts against Talarico. That kind of participation comes with a louder voice than my television remote.
I would like one of these gentlemen to explain how frightening me about a transgender person lowers my insurance, pays my taxes, or leaves more money for groceries. Preferably in the same thirty seconds they use to explain how civilization will collapse if I vote for a Democrat.
Until then, they remind me of that fellow throwing shredded paper over his shoulder. Every election, another handful. Every election, another warning. And when the imaginary catastrophe doesn’t happen, they congratulate themselves on protecting us.
Except I’ve finally spotted an elephant.
It’s in Austin, sitting on my wallet.
