I’m quite sure that no matter how any human being identifies, they’ve known from a young age whether or not they belong to the sex that gets pregnant or to the sex that gets pregnant. I’m quite sure not a single male among these Pomo dolts ever, just to check, bought a pregnancy testing stick. JUst as I’m very sure the female Pomo dolts know why they happen to bleed ever four weeks or so.
They’re just playing language games.
I used to do that after I’d smoked a lot of weed when I was in college: “like, how do we know 2+2=4. If we all decided 2+2=5, then it would. Because what is reality? Who decides?” “Fuuuck. It’s all too deeeeep.”
But while I was clear-eyed and sober the next day, the Pomo dolts were reading “1984” like it was an instruction manual. For a philosophy that set out to decenter and destabilize totalist thought, it sure has eagerly donned a brown shirt.