Transbassador, You Are Really Soiling Us

Beneath the faux-distressed exterior of the 'inner woman, totes worst oppressed' P.R. machine, there's a world of career opportunity and an awards cabinet that would make Kim Jong Un wince.

And it's that cheesy, back-slapping circuit that brings this to you, dear reader.

Because Martin 'Katie' Neeves has just been appointed a UK delegate for the UN Commission on The Status of Women, a role he is patently unqualified for. He's garnered quite the portfolio of titles and awards under that jaunty lady-belt of his, and calls himself a Transbassador, frequently overstepping his remit, venturing into law and biology - very badly.

In this blog, though, I'd like to focus of the relationships between brothers, sisters, autogynephiles and pants.
I can't imagine how it is grow up with your brother digging through your underwear to get his grotty jollies. I do remember throwing a top away (and I had no spare clothes, at all) after an elder sister wore it, without asking, and it came back with stains that, even to my virgin eyes, looked a bit suspicious. Fucking yuck.

For it to be my brother telling the world and its whippet about it ad nauseam, I'd be furious. A violating, embarrassing breach of trust, publicly revisited over and over.

Neeves has done very well out of his super-public coming out, and I notice he has a very scripted story with several components which he repeats. One prominent example is his first memory, as told to Chat! Magazine, as a FOUR YEAR OLD - sometimes he claims he was THREE.

Courtesy of Mole at the Door

"Creeping into my older sister's bedroom one evening, I pulled a pair of knickers out of her drawers, carefully stepped into them.

"I didn't fit in, but seeing my reflection smiling back wearing my 7-year-old sister's girly knickers, I suddenly felt right."

That he 'felt right' or 'felt so good' are littered among his recollections. It's almost a handy, euphemistic refrain to sanitise; a coded admission.

I'm fascinated by the dynamic between 'transwomen' and their sisters, as I've seen so many MtF Reddit threads on their terrible, unsupportive behaviour - even sabotaging devilry. The spoilt 'cis' sis. The favourite, bio c*** daughters.

This includes a bitter, jealous polemic from a man who's sister was sexually abused in childhood. Poor MtF /throwaway was distraught. Was his sister really so immersed in herself she couldn't see that a paedophile, motivated towards little girls, who was active but never touched him, was a kick in the teeth?
Way to invalidate his gender, his truth, his being a girl.

For Neeves, feeling 'right' and 'so good' posing in the mirror, his joy was quickly demolished by his mother. It was the first time he felt so nasty, so wrong and debased.

This first memory obviously fell on an eventful day, but I'm wondering why guilt and shame come into it, for a three or four year old, far before sexual consciousness? Did his mother berate and scold him as dirty? If Neeves was simply aware "what I was doing was wrong. It was dirty. It was naughty" - well, he wasn't four.

It's a thinly veiled account of fetishised sexual behaviour, all that titillating risk. "My good feelings were quickly overcome by guilt and shame" is projected onto a nursery age child. It's bleak, dangerous, icky.

He goes on to say his mum would pull his shorts down daily for the next week, to check he was wearing his pants. This too sounds odd, unless she'd caught him violating his sister's boundaries repeatedly. A mother without reason to fear a perversion was taking hold of her son, a mother of a three or four year old, seems unlikely to do that.

As I write this, my two-and-a-half year old is snoozing on my shoulder. I don't believe in six months, a year or even two she, or any other toddler, could be entangled in such complex inner turmoil around identity. Nah. It's risible ballsacks.

I hope you're reading this, Neeves.

Risible. Ballsacks.

I think Neeves simply enjoys describing a humiliating violation visited upon him.

Against my better judgement, I put the words (and variations of) 'my + sister's + knickers' in a search engine. Here are the results:


Most descend into graphic, incestuous fantasy; all were sexual.

And anyway, aside from cut and colour, what differences are there in girl's and boy's pants?

I suspect the truth is the Trans Joy here was in breaching a boundary. A boundary provocatively dressed in irresistible frisson, followed by regret because it is out of order, and shame because it's sexual.

As a kid, I also wore older family member's clothes. I clumped around in high heels, motorbike leathers, hitching dresses up with belts, rolling up sleeves and trouser legs, all that. When I reached adolescence, I borrowed the clothes of my elder sisters all the time.

I'd have regarded putting on my sister's knickers weird, baffling and unbearably gross. No 'private mirror moments' there.
For me, an actual girl, I wanted to play a grown up, or a child during some historical period, or from a story. Sometimes I wanted to be a princess, or a fireman. It was not about self expression, it was play. That Neeves 'expressed' (🤢) himself in his sister's knickers is sordid. We all know this.

But Neeves clearly felt he could share, and share again, this grim snippet of information in candid detail without concerning anyone - which is strange, considering the humiliation and guilty shame he experienced, isn't it?


Steph needs to stop it, too

It's common - our great mutual friend Steph Richards of Steph's Place / TransLucent freely admits to raiding his sister's wardrobe. Now I can't see what, if any, relationship Steph has with his sister, but bird of a feather (and wig - he drew the short, plastic straw) Claire Prosho has fallen out with his, appearing to fucking despise her.


Urgh - women offering each other support is exactly what we're trying to stop here!

Still, poor Neeves has outrageously been criticised by this irrational shame culture and pushed back against by miserable feminist opprobrium.

He's not bothered by people seeing his previous photos, or knowing his 'dead name' - it's still the name of his business (which he cites, in full, a lot). It's a little unusual.

Like friend of the blog, burly Helen Belcher, Neeves knows how to complain, and went after Sarah Summers for showing an excerpt of his trans awareness training, writing about his description of wearing his sister's knickers and those of other women, and the grimy expression this elicited. He "speaks of wearing women’s knickers on a first date, his eyes partially shut, his lips curled with euphoria".

Is there a different contextual angle to "I stole my sister's knickers, wore them, and when I think about it my face does this 🤤"?

Since then, some historical revision has occurred. The Chat! piece has been edited in later copies (knickers become clothes), but for chatterbox, publicity-hungry Neeves, it's impossible to erase the dozens upon dozens of times he's talked about it. What he expected to look like in trying to get a woman famously struggling with rape trauma sacked was, I don't know. It definitely doesn't scream sisterhood.

 

But Summers was right. Watching Neeves' videos, you may notice the moments he's serious, looking down with brow furrowed, often an eyebrow raised in scrutiny. This is in stark contrast to those fleeting moments where he happens upon an exciting detail: his eyes flutter upwards and back. His mouth melts like wax shavings under a flame.


WellerPerson: Neeves, methodically thumping his fist away and sermonising on a Bad Mother rejecting the notion her boy, of three, is a girl, hits a joyous moment when The Good News happens and the poor kid is whacked on puberty blockers

I watched a lot of his cheesy vlogs to get a shot of this euphoric moment. I noted also a rhythmic swaying, to and fro, like a dancing cobra, or a man who's prostate is perilously close to a love egg.

An insurmountable problem is women are adept at spotting certain types. There's behaviours which elicit powerful tocsins in us, which other people read as friendly, amiable.

Viewing the world from a vastly different angle, they tell us we'll "absolutely love," someone, and he's "just so down to earth and friendly" but unfortunately, the vibe we get is less avuncular, more creepy uncle.

In my experience, the affable, overly-chatty types can get away with a surprising amount of trespass.
As Martin, Neeves was a tiny, grinch-like critter who probably wasn't seen as particularly threatening. 

As Katie, Neeves still has a bird-like frame - in fact, he has the bone structure of a soft shell crab - but I fear earlier restraint due to his being a man (or, as he puts it, 'pretending to be male') is now gone. I'm wary of men who chuckle away at their own comments, it feels less a personality trait, more like potential plausible deniability.

I don't know any women who would, with their work face on, engage in Neeves' childish japes about boobs and bollocks.
I certainly can't think of any middle aged women who drop constant double entendres, or giddily swoon at their own cringe-inducing, minor sleaze.
But, Neeves manages: advertising the Chat! piece as "A Page 3 Girl At 52!"; relishing the frankly hilarious, original pun "it takes balls to be a transgender woman." The best part of the transing is getting rid of them. Does he mention this to help us see him as a woman? Just yuck. And fuck off.

It's the same with cutting an infantile, tit-inspired curvy line into his shepherds pie to celebrate his upcoming breast augmentation. Women just don't do this, largely because we've been objectified. Your silicon moobs cannot replicate this Neeves. Just stop. All of it.

The implants were because the tiny scrap of a man was disappointed by his dinky moobs, and getting this addressed was clearly many times more valuable than getting the lower part amended. Obviously. Despite the unbearable dysphoria.

This shepherd's pie is, apparently, Neeves speciality. I can't get over how ketchup-red the sauce is

Today, Neeves clearly holds quite the rage rod towards his sister. It's always seemed to me that men are most driven crazy by someone refusing contact. Maybe because it involves a boundary.

Claire Prosho disowned his sister, while Neeves goes out of his way to publicise what he perceives as his sister's failure to family. He has a video on his blog where he directly addresses her, using her name, even mentioning where she lives. He says she abandoned him because he's trans, but he mentions also she first began drifting away decades before, when she married and religiously converted. 
Exchanging cards for Christmas and birthdays was it, until 'Katie' sprung out up from the knicker drawer. But - disaster - sister failed in her familial duties, and did not welcome or affirm!

Spot the difference

Neeves also writes anonymously about his sister in The Metro.
It's so clearly his I wonder exactly he was playing at.

Family estrangement is a complex and private affair, since these relationships go back to childhood. It's easy and often foolish to judge from the outside.
He describes her writing back, 'deliberately' using his 'deadname'. This was triggering "after I had endured such a long and difficult journey to be the real me" (but not enough to rename his business). It was a "new passive-aggressive twist."

So, he explains in his tearful monologue, he sent her a copy of his name change on deed poll.
I'm struggling to understand how this didn't immediately convince her? Surely, this makes him a woman, called Katie?
It's a bit like when a genius identified as Yorkshire Bank PLC Are Fascist Bastards, after he was charged £20 for going less than £10 overdrawn. He went back to the bank, demanding he be addressed as such, in full. You have to take it seriously when people go to the bother and expense.

Anyway, she never wrote back after that.

But this letter was to their mum. It was 2022, not long ago, so she presumably was trying to continue this relationship. If you listened to Neeves, though, you'd think she'd entirely renounced his mother.

.

Within the last couple of months, their elderly mother sadly grew very ill and died. In the weeks before, he put up multiple posts in local Facebook pages, with a picture of his sister as a child, her name, her husband and child's name and details about them. Unquestionably, this was a good thing to do, if he didn't have her address, that is. But he did. 

What's more questionable was his choice to then write this long comment on every one of his posts - even those which garnered no comments.

"The loss of family is a big price that trans people often face when we decide to live our truth" but "if one day, she decides that she is ready to accept me as her sister then I would be delighted"
When a brother who in childhood tapdanced over normal bounds of decency and now tells the world of his revised, but still appalling, version, perhaps the sister wants no contact, and it's not transphobia?




Who knows. Perhaps she's a terrible daughter and rejected her sweet, ailing mother, but I have doubts it isn't his presence she struggles to bear.
We know Neeves abused her boundaries. It's easy to pin things on prejudice.

Sometimes, it's not them - it's you.

 

MaleViolence

Warning - this blog includes details of very distressing acts of animal abuse. I''ve added a warning above and below it so you can scroll if you wish.

I am so, so done with this shit.

This is story of monstrous men, their risible play-acting as vulnerable, and a single fact - namely, that men are men. And abusive, violent men will use all sorts of lies and subterfuge to excuse themselves.

Allowing them to fly under the radar with our fucking identities, is insulting beyond description. 

'Scarlet Blake', the 'fractured personality' - she does not exist. Instead, there is a man. A spoilt, brutal, cowardly, man. 

'Scarlet' had a boyfriend, Ashlynn Bell, who he called his girlfriend. All the papers, the police and courts seem to concur; both of these pornsick, oxygen-thieving pigs are women.

 

You couldn't find anything to suggest otherwise until 'Scarlet' being trans was wheeled out as mitigation. 

And, therefore, 'Ashlynn Bell' does not exist either. He's another bloke, exhibiting male-pattern violence, living a cosplay in inch-thick makeup and wigs. Dressed up like a stormtrooper's fuck-puppet, he has discreetly feminised his face with filters. By which I mean, recklessly narrowing, shrinking and blurring it to nothing but a few, makeup-created features. The end result looks like a prank, a cut 'n shut of doll parts. A mannequin with a barbie head on top. 

I don't know what 'Ashlynn Bell' was originally called, but I bet both names are fake.

Intensely sissified and entangled in narc-wank, he furiously filters that old-school tin opener of a chin of his off his photos. Nothing is real. 

Scarlet Blake is a character dreamt up by Fangze Wang, of Crotch Crescent. But that's the only bit we can laugh at. 

Wang liked to pretend to be a cat. On Facebook I see two profiles I suspect are his, both with cats as profile pictures. There's talk of him injecting himself with a microchip. He meowed to friends, because it evoked a 'childlike innocence'. He meowed in court, the twat.

For some reason this is not treated to the same po-faced respect as his concocted 'womanhood'. Why is that?

He and Ashlynn were in some kind of live wank 'relationship' from across the Atlantic. They met on a gore site.

Both were obsessed with death, fantasising about it constantly. Wang had, on the occasions they were in physical proximity, throttled Ashlynn unconscious with a belt. There was video of it. 

Wang had written about wanting to kill and be killed. He told Bell: "I would murder my mum for you...I also want to kill my dad one day...maybe when they are old I can just put a respirator with pure nitrogen on their faces while they sleep."

Wang said it was a metaphor, demonstrating an intellectual superiority, I think? He's an only child, from a professional, well-to-do family who appear to be well liked and respected by neighbours. He isn't some thug, you know. He's a lady.

So, in a posh suburb of Oxford, the son of an Oxford don allegedly told his parents at age 12 he was transgender. Unbelievably, they didn't immediately affirm him, causing a forever-hurt the young Wang was left to bear. No one knows the parent's side here, but if it involved tightening controls of internet usage when they found out about all the porn, I'm sure it was a heavy blow indeed.

"I'm hurt by the way I was brought up and I'm sad about it. "It's...a fairly strained relationship".

"I have a lot of unmet parenthood needs. I feel very forsaken I suppose" he whimpered, like a man who'd watched too much Oprah. 

You can see his nonchalant demeanor in this video of his arrest, where he chats to two female officers, complains of withdrawal from nicotine ("at least it's not genocide") and is calm, lucid, dripping in an arrogant, greasy facade.

I see no reference to 26 year old Wang's occupation. His home looks clean, tidy and decorated. He flew to America and back to visit Bell. A supercharged 'Little Emperor' - and this has nothing to do with Wang being Chinese. Originally referring to the insulated, spoilt products of the one child policy, male sex selection and the affluent upper middle class, it seems applicable to many basement dwelling, angry little men. Living off his parents, hating his parents, and increasingly himself for being so dependent. And after his parents worked so hard to give him a good life.

All we know of Bell is he's a man. He makes his money from prostitution, and he loves guns and Nazi memorabilia. In fact, he is so fond of guns he scared Wang back across that Atlantic ocean with one. 

They were close, exchanging thousands of messages, hours of chat and video, almost every single one making some reference to murder or death.

But it was only when it really kicked off, after they seriously fell out, Bell abruptly felt a moral compulsion and grassed Wang up to police. Something he'd happily kept quiet about for two years, and engaged in numerous flirty chats about, teasing about the 'little cat friend' and how drunk men didn't escape Fangze Wang. I guess it just suddenly started weighing on his mind. 

As far as Wang is concerned, everything was Ashlynn's fault, which should make all this violent bloke scrapping somehow relevant as a defence in court. He did unspeakable things “In the interest of keeping her happy, because I wanted her to kill me one day, because it’s sexually stimulating for me, that idea,” - don't wanna alienate 'the one', your murderer, huh?

Don't F*** With Cats

In Don't F*** With Cats, the pouting, superior, proud narcissist Luka Magnotta inspired the Bell-Wang couple. 

Like Bell, and probably Wang, he's an autophile; a devotee of his own romanticised, fetishised self. Heavy makeup, prostitution, porn and bright-white filters. 

Like Wang, and probably Bell, he created a new name for himself. Because, also, Luka Magnotta doesn't exist. He's the pornified creation of one Eric Newman. All three are men.

Newman, tarted up to the nines, filmed himself killing two kittens in a grotesque manner, before moving onto a human being. It's almost comic book anti-hero posturing, fodder for the zoo-sadists, eroticising acts that are disgusting, hideously cruel or otherwise forbidden by cultural norms. 

These men, the outrage junkies proliferating across the web, find nothing more exciting than the unforgivable. Newman is an inadequate cretin, devoid of personality and desperate to be a star. A wannabe, now serving life in a Toronto jail. 

After the kittens, with animal lovers outraged and trying to track him down, Newman lured the quietly gay, gentle Chinese student Jun Lin into what was supposed to be a sexy rendezvous. Then, on livestream, he began stabbing him with a screwdriver, mutilated his body and sent parts of him through the mail - one hand, one foot, to different political parties. Lin's torso was posted to a primary school.

I'm sure there's some kind of warning or lesson in this - maybe that portraying murderers in carefully considered ways which don't glamourise them is a good idea. These men want an audience, after all. Desperate for attention, to manage their emotional incontinence, wallowing and self indulgent jealousy. Newman AKA 'Magnotta' fled the country, only to be arrested when tracked down to an internet cafe, googling himself.

Wanting to do something with his life, Wang went and bought a cat trap (possibly a couple of hundred pounds if new) baited it, and caught his neighbour's cat. She was called Starlet. 

Animal Abuse

After bringing Starlet into his home and setting up the livestream that Bell so wanted to watch, Wang said to the cat “Here we go my little friend. Oh boy, you smell like shit. I can’t wait to put you through the blender” and placed a ribbon nose around her neck, suspending her like he had done to Bell in their home videos. He was careful, though, not to strangle her outright.

He forced a scalpel, and the handle, into the cat's brain through her eye socket. He started cutting Starlet up, cranking her ribcage, her thorax, open. She was still alive.

 End of Description

All this to placate Bell, because if he didn't, Bell would punish him. Magically, via some remote action able to cross the Atlantic ocean, I guess: “She was conditioning me to obey. I wasn’t interested or willing – it was an awful thought to me”. 

"It was to make her [Bell - him] happy. Something she wanted me to do. So I pretended to enjoy it."

As for his obvious delight, posing with the cat, his laughing: "It was a very choreographed laugh. I'm pretty sure my face wasn't like that the whole time."

"I felt awful, I felt guilty, I felt loss. I expected the cat to die a lot faster." He felt 'loss', guys.

It was "something I can do without looking like I'm freaking out", so, he pretended Starlet "wasn't real or sentient". "I felt like I wasn't able to...It's something I very much didn't want. So I suppose I emotionally distanced myself from the animal to be able to do it.

And, like every violent man, his memory is decidedly patchy, because Bell had instructed him to eat almost nothing for three months.

Let me remind you: all his defence was that he did this to make Bell, him, happy, and the not emaciated Wang was starving himself for his boyfriend. Those terms, pronouns, turn it very quickly from an act of nihilistic, heaving-bosom sadism to one of two grim, ugly, basement-wanking men being absolute scum.

He removed Starlet's eyes for 'dramatic effect' he said. And because it was 'entertaining'.

Wang continued to torture the poor animal, and at trial, a vet testified Starlet would have been conscious and in 'extreme pain' until her heart was ripped out. Wang said that he did this as an act of mercy. 

Dissection like this, to see the heart in the pulpy, pulsating mess of ribcage and vital organs, takes skill. He's either done a lot of biology or he's done it before. Starlet was skinned, Wang posing for pictures with her devastated little body before putting it into a blender.

Bell enjoyed the terrifying and excruciating death, and he never divulged it to police. During it all, Wang was laughing, taunting Starlet with his trademark meows. The c*nt.

Starlet's heart was later found stashed in a trinket box, as a memento.

But of course, with escalating psychopaths, sadists, it's never enough. Wang wanted to "open up a person like my little cat friend".

Four months later, presumably the missing posters had lost some of their illicit frisson, and Wang went out in the middle of the night with a backpack and a bottle of vodka, cruising the town. 

He saw Jorge Carrenas, clearly very drunk and lost. He sat down next to him, gave him vodka, led him down a towpath and to a stretch of riverbank called 'Parson's Pleasure', whacked him round the head with the vodka bottle, strangled him, and kicked him into the water. He told Bell that he had made a garrot that he hoped would decapitate the victim. It's like he was living in an episode of Ren & Stimpy.

Jorge, a 30 year old engineer from Spain, wasn't found for two days. Two days of confused friends wondering who saw him last, and when they should call police, call home. Presumably, two days of Wang watching the news for reports of a body being found.

To share the excitement, Wang posted the coat he'd worn during the murder to Bell, who said it smelt of serial killer. Police in Oxford appealed and appealed for help in tracking down the person - the man - in an army coat, walking with Jorge. Probably not such a great thing we are supposed to see women when we look at men. They never got a lead, and it looked like Jorge Carreno's death would be ruled as accidental.

“[Bell] was quite obsessive over how apparently, I killed someone for her, and how now she’s dating a murderer. She seemed to enjoy it.” -  Wang just took the credit for Carreno's death. Otherwise, he was just following orders. And he's sad about his childhood, ok?

I'm pleased Wang has been found guilty and I hope he serves the rest of his life, many decades longer than his minimum 24 years [in a men's prison] and never sees light of day ever again, but this should not be the end of it. 

Ashlynn Bell - whatever he looks like - should be on lists, banned from keeping firearms and pets, blocked from any contact with the vulnerable, and charged with whatever they can - conspiracy, incitement, and concealing these crimes. All along he aided and abetted, vicariously delighting in the horrors. 

Both are soulless little men whose only value in life was what they could offer each other. It makes sense Bell got retribution for their break up by ending the freedom Wang had enjoyed. 

Animal torture is a peculiarly male crime, normally of men under the age of 30. Women abuse animals, too, but deliberate, planned and sadistic violence is a bloke's speciality.

Animal torture and murdering humans are very closely linked. 

We have woefully weak legislation to protect animals. It's why cat killers are charged with criminal damage so often - it's the best way to bump up the penalties. If the animal is regarded as vermin, they can probably get away with it. It's a classic psychopathic crime, indicating a sadist who will progress onto people. Lock these people up. Forever.

 

And, as for Wang's identity as a woman, it's as heartfelt as his identity as a cat. Meowing at his tortured victim. 

Sources

Sky News 

Sky News 

Oxford Mail 

Daily Mail "Police appeals for the identity of a sinister figure in a military-style coat who was seen wandering the streets of Oxford with the Spanish engineer on the night of his death had yielded nothing. It was only when detectives received that transatlantic call from a woman who claimed to know what had happened that the case could be solved.

The Sun

ITV  

The Independent

The Mirror "Prosecutors said Blake had an “extreme interest in death and in harm” and got sexual gratification from violence and killings. 

Telegraph - Scarlet Blake Guilty 

"Mr Carreno’s family paid tribute to him. Jorge Carreno was one of triplets, who had an “immense desire to live and enjoy life”

“Jorge was not only an exemplary child but also an exceptional being. He was distinguished by his incredible affection, friendliness, and his ability to give himself fully to others. Jorge’s innate curiosity and creativity drove him to explore, learn, and experiment tirelessly.

“This loss feels like a traumatic, devastating blow, leaving a void impossible to fill. Going through the pain of losing a son, a brother, under such tragic and unjustified circumstances, is a trial no family should face.

“Today his absence leaves a deep wound in our hearts. His life was stolen, cutting short his projects and dreams. This tribute is a reminder of Jorge but also a call to justice. There can be no peace until justice is served.

“We ask not only for justice for him but also for protection to prevent other people, other families, from suffering the immense pain caused by such cruel and senseless murders. We extend our heartfelt thanks for the incredible support from family, friends, the police, and our lawyers during this tough time.”

"Jun Lin's father, Diran Lin, called him his “brave son, smart son, laughing son, caring son, adventurous son, handsome son, strong son, popular son,” the Globe and Mail reported.

"In his statement, he said his son wanted to stay in Canada to start his own business — a dream that would never come to pass.

“I live each day with regret that all I now see available here will never be his, that his name will only be associated with a horrible, degrading crime”

"The grieving father said.”It causes me fresh pain to know that my son's legacy is to be remembered as a victim. He not only suffered in his murder but will be humiliated for each time his name is mentioned and it hurts me deeply and will hurt me forever.”