There's a Girly boy teen right above...sweet.
An historical note for you dear comrades. Back in my 1970's post Stonewall Radical daze when we was all happily Queer together...mostly. Our lesbian sisters some of them hated 'all' the varieties of Trannies.
I mean they were so into themselves they hated these dear sweet souls to the point of incidents of violent assault which I personally witnessed.
Let me illustrate with a little show here.
Me on a dark stage in front of one of them phony stage camp fires ya know with the orange light, and a fan blowing pointed sheets of yellow silk?
Okay I'm dressed up as an aged *Native American shaman...neat huh? Anyway there I am in Native drag under the make believe stars as I takes a long drag on some sort of long pipe, and I sez...
"Many many moon ago when cars had fins milk was delivered in bottles, and our biggest fear was nuclear annihilation, and or integration."
"In that long past peaceful time when Queers was just starting to kick ass, our Dyke sisters had a weed up their butts with Shemales of the tribe."
"Some wackka-doodle crap about how they're an insult to womanhood."
"Turned out they was just as bigoted as the white man."
"Yes my children I with these now withered eyes witnessed an violent assault on a Shemale Teen boy by several overheated gals in the first Queer tribe Community Center on West 4th Street in 1973."
"Oh yes it was true..most true that long ago very young tribal boys did come out, and were welcomed most warmly...ahem extremely warmly in some cases."
"This long before they were forced into chaperoned hiding to protect their virgin-hood by those same wackka-doodle angry man hating alleged Dykes, and their male feminist pets."
"...and so began the division of the tribe."
"One part for the males, and another more valued for the females. The era of when we were brother, and sister was over. The era of "We're more oppressed than you so shut up" had begun. From this slowly came the strange time of the "Straight Gays, and the Straight Dykes".
The time of the acting like looking like the people that hated us beat us arrested us, and killed us had begun. Much like the Natives that gave up their history, and the Blacks that dropped their cultures."
"Oh my dear children these are strange, and sad days for the tribe."
"For we...far too many have become dreaded "Stroller Pushers".
"No offense to our dear pale boys whom we love as our own, but my children we have become Honorary White."
"June which once was Celebrated as our Festival of Revolt is now a time of Shame."
The stage Lights dim the stars above flicker, and go out. The Shaman drops his pipe, which breaks, and he covers his eyes with pain.
The fire slowly fades out.
Only the sound of the pre-recorded crickets remains till they too fall silent.
(*...It's a bit cool acting a Native part. I'm Black/Native on my Dad's side. My Native pals give me a hard time, and laff, but fuck it.)