by Robert Gear (February 2026)
Like the number of books in Jorge Luis Borges’ tale, The Library of Babel, the permutations of trans existence may be infinite at 25^131200—more than the estimated number of atoms in the universe. The infinite number of books in the library each with 410 infinitely thin pages sounds like an infinitely large (or is that an infinitely thin?) universe. Mathematicians have had a field day with the implications.
Scholars are unsure whether the Borges universe had been permeated with any of the trans movements of his time or of the apparent past or future. But these movements are or will be so numerous as to fit smoothly into that cosmos (as will worlds which are controlled or savaged by roosters screeching about their own peculiar vision). So what are some of the stranger examples of the trans universe now envisaged or yet to be?
Recollections may vary, but it is clear that those subject to unhappy and yet sometimes comfortable upbringings pushed the trans movement in new directions. For example and very much inter alia, in those days surrealism had made a comeback, and some admired Salvador Dali’s famous painting of the melted clocks, The Persistence of Memory, 1931. And these individuals were keen to gather together into the now largely defunct Trans-Melted-Clocks community. Then social contagion took over. Surgery at that point had not progressed so far, and most of the surgical attempts were failures; those who attempted to turn themselves into melted clocks came out looking like dollops of mashed potato. In retrospect we can now see that the famous Mashed Potato building later occupied by Climate Fiddlers (see MMXXXIV, NER January 2023) was possibly modeled on these failed melted-clock failures; they ended up looking like the enforced school dinners of the 1950s I remember with so much repugnance.
By the way, at that time, in the excitement of ‘the latest thing,’ few progressives stopped to ask themselves which of the 410 genders then on offer would fit most cozily with a new Soup-Can identity. And when they did stop to think about it confusion reigned. Remember that Intentionally Acquired Vulnerability Syndrome was as yet not completely understood—or revered.
A flavor of the era is given by this The New York Times headline: “Trump Administration reveals bias against the New Wave Community of Trans Soup-Cans.”
They had forgotten that the Trump administration had ended about 140 years prior to this. The Gaurdian Newspaper was equally dismissive, claiming, “Trump and Robinson responsible for Suop[sic]-Can Mishaps.”
The response of the BBC was not recorded since, to the relief of Normal People, the long withdrawing roar (latterly bore) of the broadcaster was over; the organization had finally reached the point of disbanding itself many years prior to this.
As an aside, I should point out that important elements of the elite classes were essentially roosters, often named ‘Mo,’ or they were supporters of said birds (mostly pigs or Lizard Men). As a general rule these birds scorned the tendency to indulge in trans soup-cans fetishes or most others on offer. However, there were those among the rooster classes who argued that such tendencies should be encouraged because they contributed to the undermining and further degradation of that particular corner of the Dar al Harb. And some of these more insidious cockscombs saw that children of unhappy upbringing were keen to become trans chickens—thus possibly enlarging the already numerous poultry clan.
The squabble between different groups of Trans-Soup-Can folk almost became violent, and one group was bound to win out eventually—or as it turned out—neither. The problem was that the Trans-Soup-Cans had undergone top and bottom surgery which meant having their arms and legs surgically removed, and so their standard responses to any attempt at rational discussion, i.e. violence, was not an option. Like Swift’s Big Enders and Little Enders they tried to fight a war about trivial matters, but this was ineffectually performed.
Those brave souls with a satirical bent—and they still existed half expecting to be thrown into a dungeon at the whim of the fools running the show—cheekily pushed the identity parade to perhaps its farthest limit. They broached the idea that it might be possible to identify as and also become a can of dog food. But they needn’t have worried about cancellation; on hearing this satirically intended proposal some members of the more sophisticated media elites and professoriate agreed that it was quite possible to become a can of dog food or indeed its contents and to attempt surgery in that direction. Clearly satire was not their strong suit.
As if that was not radical enough, I have found writings and You Tube videos promoting the Trans-Dog-Food identity (not the can, the food contained within). Some of the more advanced tenured professors in the Departments of Trans Identities claimed that it would be cruel to forbid such yearnings from becoming manifest—especially since the seekers were often prepubescent children. Naturally their research led them to produce a multitude of ‘Peer Reviewed’ studies, and so it was generally accepted that this must be True.
By the way, cat lovers promptly challenged this movement and stridently promoted trans cat-food identity as a more valuable contribution to the latest thing. Well, everyone has their prejudices! And there is a vast and growing ‘peer-reviewed’ literature on this very subject.
The media uncovered (and mostly covered up with a pillow until they stopped moving) several cases of post-transing remorse including the tendency to suicide (both individual and civilizational). But suicide was not always an option if you think about it. As mentioned above the Trans Cans of all kinds had undergone bottom and top surgery—their arms and legs had been surgically removed to give a more cylindrical shape to their appearance; acquired helplessness being part of the attraction. Vulnerability was one aspect of successful victimhood and therefore something to scream about at the many-venomed protests.
It is of course true that some serious thinkers claimed that this was going beyond the currently acceptable narrative, and that permission had not been given for such a radical step. If you were suicidal then the best that could be done was to get a friend to place you in a supermarket soup-can aisle and hope perhaps forlornly that some customer would purchase you and consume the contents.
The more critical thinkers understood that if everyone could be anything and change into anything else at the slightest whim or surgical event then everyone was everything—and therefore nothing. But satirical intent did not reach the higher thinkers, and they carried on doing what they were best at: managing their inmost insecurities by imposing nonsense on everyone else. The infinite absurdity of the choices that could be made would end in the infinite thinness like each page of the Library of Babel.
Myself? I’ll stick with the 410 gender identities still on offer; I’ll just stick with the ‘narrative.’
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Robert Gear is a Contributing Editor to New English Review who now lives in the American Southwest. He is a retired English teacher and has co-authored with his wife several texts in the field of ESL. He is the author of If In a Wasted Land, a politically incorrect dystopian satire.
Follow NER on Twitter @NERIconoclast
One Response
I protest! What about those who desire both to be and not to be, following their own legitimate misunderstandings of the famous soliloquy in “Hamlet?” Schrodinger’s cat has initiated (or not) a lawsuit to clarify (or not) the whole situation. Swamps have rights, too.