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Written 2024
The explosion of all things ‘trans’ has certainly not happened organically, as the radical activists would have you believe. Instead, it has been fed into the consciousness of the people, using the usual methods of propaganda, not least of which has been television. ITV, keen to pin their trans ally colours to the mast, went full out indoctrination in 2018 when they offered up the unambiguously titled Butterfly. Billed, of course, as ‘groundbreaking’, the drama in three parts is brimming with buzz words like ‘true self’, ‘puberty blockers’, and ‘gender distress’. Media organisations have been amongst the most dogged supporters of trans ideology, so it is no surprise that such a programme was commissioned. Perhaps the only surprise is that Channel 4 or BBC did not do it first.
Quick synopsis. 11-year-old Max wants to be Maxine. His mum, Vicky, will do anything to make it happen. Dad, Stephen, has enormous reservations about blocking his son’s puberty, taking the role of the villain, the ‘toxic male’. Eventually, however, he is won over by seeing Maxine in a girl’s school uniform. Max gets jabbed with puberty blocking meds. They celebrate and live happily ever after.
For those of us who have been raising concerns about the trans-ing of children, this drama is, and should always have been, viewed as a massive work of propaganda. I rolled my eyes when I first saw it advertised. So now, in light of The Cass Review and its rational findings of the need for great caution, I urge those who are only just waking up to the insanity that has been perpetrated in the name of transgenderism to watch Butterfly, but through the lens of Cass, and it will soon become clear that every scene was designed and directed to sway you into supporting the trans-ing of children. Far from being a beacon throwing light on the plight of trans children, it in fact reinforces everything we have been warning about. Rather than drama, it instead feels like a documentary, detailing every single wrong move enacted over the last decade by those responsible for the care of these vulnerable children, including the NHS.
Just six minutes into the show and the truth is out. Vicky and husband Stephen are separated, and when arriving to collect the children for the weekend, Stephen’s new girlfriend is in the car, leaving Vicky feeling somewhat jilted. Later that evening, while downing white wine with her gal pal, Vicky sulks, and says “Stephen’s got something new in his life, what have I got?” It is a mic drop moment. We all know what mum’s ‘something new’ is going to be: her accessory trans child! Everyone needs a project, right? In fairness to mum, she does attempt a Tinder date first, but Max decides he is having none of it, and protests with a bit of self-harm, scuppering any burgeoning romance. Still, mum seems only too happy to have a reason. It will be her and her new ‘daughter’ from here on in, fighting against the cruel world.
Many real-life stories, particularly of very young so-called trans children, bear out the theory that it is driven by parents, usually mothers, displaying exactly the same behaviours as those parents who commit Munchausen by Proxy. Jeanette certainly took the lead in the Jennings household, when she decided that her slightly effeminate little boy must really be a girl, and began him on a pathway to life as a miserable, obese adult, with little to no sex drive. Through the subsequent television series, I Am Jazz, that mutilation of her son’s previously healthy little body has made the entire family very famous, and, no doubt, wealthy. This show, too, contributed in no small part to the propaganda efforts, the brainwashing of a population to believe in the ‘trans child’.
Another little boy, from Texas, is being used as his single mother’s prop, as she also vies for attention, parading him on television and in magazines as transgender. In a short film called Moving Isa (All About Violet, I suggest, would be a more appropriate title), little boy Ashnikko has been rebranded as Isa by his Transhausen mum, Violet. In the opening scenes of the film, the child actually asks the film maker to call him Ashnikko, very telling indeed about who has made the decision to change his name. Violet is moving her son to California, as their home state of Texas have outlawed the prescribing of puberty blockers to minors. The film follows Violet and Ashnikko as they pack up their Texas home in readiness for the move. The little boy’s grandfather makes an appearance too, emotional as he discusses how wonderful his ‘granddaughter’ is. In another stunningly telling moment, he reveals that he himself was raised extremely homophobic. Another family, then, happy to trans their potentially gay little boy. The film makes for really uncomfortable viewing, and brims with tension, as the little boy tells his mother repeatedly that he does not want to move, and his face is the picture of utter confusion almost the entire time. But mum’s mermaid child is putting her smack bang in the spotlight, and that is exactly where she wants to be. In a clip on another website, Violet is seen dancing at a trans parent support event, where she is being presented with a bravery award. It is unbelievable how self-centred and myopic these trans parents and activists are. It is obvious even now that this boy will grow to hate his mother, especially if he ends up mutilated, or with an underdeveloped penis and testicles, and without a sex drive. The bravery award belongs to Ashnikko alone.
And so back to Butterfly, and just 12 minutes in, the tropes so regularly espoused by women like Violet begin in earnest, as Max returns from school having wet himself, as he just could not bear to use the boys’ toilets, but he is not allowed to use the girls’ either. All the favourites are in the mix. Max’s bedroom is awash with rainbows, unicorns and, quelle surprise, mermaids. He likes Kylie Minogue and the colour pink. And he loves to dance with the girls in the playground, rather than play footie or basketball with the boys. The irony, of course, is that these traits are most likely signs that a little boy will grow up to be, gay. Exactly what the homophobic trans zealots cannot stand.
As the drama moves on, the family visit Mermaids, the infamous charity whose questionable advice was doled out to and implemented in schools and NHS trusts, despite there being zero scientifically proven evidence behind it. A character based on Susie Green, the real-life ex-CEO of the charity, pops up in Butterfly, showing off photographs of her own son, who is now a castrated adult male with boobs, and apparently now working in Rome and “dating a gorgeous Italian”. No mention is made of the fact that in real life, the dating pool of a castrated male with a fake vagina is really very small, nor that the complication rate of such surgery is very high indeed. Vicky becomes a suspiciously quick convert to the cult, and when the Susie Green character says “listen to your child. If she’s convinced…” Vicky finishes off the mantra “…so should we be”.
Another lesson from the Mermaid’s textbook teaches parents that if anyone is mean to their non-conforming children, they can report it as a hate crime, and the police will deal with it. Just another in the pile on of ways these parents fail to teach their children that life is hard, and that they can’t always get what they want. In fact, the entirety of the story is centred around Vicky’s crusade to give her child what he wants – or what he thinks he wants, no doubt spurred on by his mother’s enormous enthusiasm for it.
In many scenes Max comes across as a whining, irritating, demanding child, who frankly needs a firm hand. Grandma points this out to Vicky, but is predictably rebuffed, painted as ignorant, and lacking in understanding. In an astonishing moment of denial, after breaking the bathroom door down and finding young Max with a shard of glass, threatening to cut off his penis, Vicky and Stephen are still not even slightly suspicious that the child is seriously mentally unwell. Instead, they promise to “do something”. Dad assures Max “we will, son, we will”. Wild eyed and angry, the boy glares at his dad and demands he rephrase his assurance: “we will, Maxine”, he snarls. Panicked dad capitulates, and agrees, “ok, Maxine”. (“It is Ma’am”. Sorry, couldn’t help it!)
After their trip to Mermaids, it is agreed that Max will return to school after the holidays as Maxine. High on the fumes of the copious amounts of hairspray required to coif Max’s hair into an Abba-esque affair, finished off with a jaunty-angled mermaid hair clip, mum and sister delight in dressing him up and helping him apply makeup, before ushering him downstairs for the big reveal to dad. Well, dad is a doubter no longer. Presumably swayed by the beauty of Max in a dress, he is, at least for now, converted. And so, they set off to drop Max off for his first day at school as Maxine, where he is promptly handed a pink rose by a girl in his class, who tells him it represents “grace, happiness and gentleness”. Sick bags in the seat pocket in front of you. This spiritual young thing turns out to be Molly, Maxine’s new bestie, who has been out of school for some time, we learn, hospitalised with anorexia. Yet again, the show unwittingly reveals reality. Children who believe they are trans are suffering a mental unwellness, hence Max and Molly are kindred spirits, both caught up in conditions of social contagion.
Max eventually receives an appointment at the gender clinic, where mum goes into overdrive, desperate to convince them to prescribe the desired puberty blockers. Dad’s had a bit of a word with himself, though, and his enthusiasm for the Abba hairdo has waned. When the clinicians push back, and eventually, after evaluation, decide that Max should not start on the blockers, dad’s relieved, but mum is livid. After hurling accusations of fault at Stephen, and insisting several times over and in various ways that Max must stay suspended in prepubescence, and not be allowed to develop, Transhausen mum’s beast mode is activated. She proceeds to steal money from her own mother and fly her son to Boston, where he attends a clinic (the details of which have been provided by the Susie ‘Castrated-my-Son’ Green character, pushed like a drug dealer). Here we encounter a comically caricature clinic director who announces that he is not an endocrinologist, oh no, he is “someone who helps children give birth to themselves”. We’re gonna need some more sick bags.
There is so much packed into the three episodes, it is like a manual on How to Trans Your Child. Of course, the fact that the UK clinic refused the medication has been thrown in to give an illusion that there was some gatekeeping going on within the NHS. The reality is that until very recently, there was none, and patients were rushed onto medical pathways with the bare minimum of consultation. It is the subject of several pending lawsuits. But in 2018, the sun was still shining on the issue, and dissent was being blocked and censored. And so, Butterfly, like a promotional video for the company that produces puberty blockers, cemented in viewers’ minds that the trans child exists, and that medical suspension of puberty was the only possible solution to help these desperate children. At moments where Stephen’s character suggests there may be alternatives, talking therapies and such, he is shouted down, told he does not understand, that he does not care.
We even see Max on his laptop, watching some kind of TikTok style video of dungaree-clad adults singing what sounds like a nursery rhyme, but with lyrics about being trans. Mum simply remarks how good it must feel for Max, knowing he is not alone. Polishing these dangerous platforms that brim with content that grooms children into the trans cult as helpful is a blatant subversion of reality. And completely fails to acknowledge the scientifically backed evidence that for the vast majority of children who suffer gender dysphoria, going through their normal, natal puberty unhindered in fact cures them of the condition, and they go on to become healthy, happy, often gay adults. Leaving them to saturate themselves in online content, created in many cases by the very people and organisations who are the problem, is fuelling this massive crisis.
It is no coincidence that all pieces of propaganda surrounding the trans issue, including Butterfly, employ the same tactics. They teem with the identical whimsically dreamy haze of glitter, rainbows, lava lamp lighting, and music rising to a crescendo of joy, like a pre-set Snapchat filter, presumably called ‘trans’. Endless shots show children spinning and dancing, supposedly full of bliss, implying that trans children are special children, like mermaids, no less. Please, let’s remove the filter. This issue so desperately needs to be surrounded by rational, clinical thinking, unhindered by the simpering #bekind mob, who are, in fact, anything but.
We must hope that one day, when the fever breaks, everyone will look back at what has happened to children and be horrified. The entire notion of the ‘trans child’ has been constructed to facilitate the desire of autogynephilic adults to live their fetish in plain sight, a child abuse scandal of epic proportions. And those who have supported, indeed championed this disgrace are the very worst of humankind. The Cass Review is, at the very least, a step towards the return of common sense, and clarity, about the complex needs of children and young people, and their mental health, and about the reasons so many are becoming vulnerable in this modern world.
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