Gender talk should be kept away from kids
IUSED to have a friend who’d leave her son in front of Thomas the Tank Engine for hours. The little boy was obsessed with it. I’d take my son to visit and her boy would sit up close to the TV, his eyes glazed, practically in a trance. He didn’t want to go play.
She’d joke about how these train characters got inside of his head, how he’d have dreams about them. She did manage to get a lot of housework done.
These days kids often watch ABC Kids via the iview app, on ipads and devices, and the ABC is regarded as a safe babysitter, unlike Youtube or other websites.
You can trust Aunty. It’s government funded, it’s official and you assume the shows are made locally or carefully selected.
So when an ABC Kids show starts telling primary schoolers and preteens they can be “non-binary” and uses words like penis, testicle, vagina and “masc, fem”, while a lipsticked bearded man sings “there are no rules or regulations on the gender spectrum baby”, it’s a betrayal of trust parents have in our cultural institution.
This new ABC is not fit to be a babysitter. It’s no longer innocent shows about trains but woke training.
And I’m not talking about Play School featuring drag queens, which Liberal Senator Alex Antic rightly grilled the ABC boss David Anderson on in parliament last week.
No, this is an ABC series called Mikki Versus The World, rated PG, aimed at upper primary and high school students and the producers say it’s “all about pre-teen mental health”.
An actress pretends to be a
psychologist and helps children solve problems. In the episode “We’re All A Vivid Rainbow: Gender Diversity”, a student decides they are non-binary and frets about announcing it at school.
It’s basically a training video about finding your “authentic self” as nonbinary and enforcing the rule that other people have to obey the madeup “they” pronoun.
The psychologist has a white male side-kick, a naive simpleton so the producers can hammer home some very heavy-handed gender pronoun lessons.
A woman in a computer — the “expert” — tells the dopey white male that “being non-binary isn’t a new thing”, which many parents would disagree with. We’re then subjected to a discussion about whether people with a penis, testicles, vagina or ovaries are male or female.
Later in the show, a “non-binary party planner” called Peta turns up and the dopey male is now confused by Peta’s appearance, saying “you look like a lady”.
No he doesn’t. Peta looks like a man with a dark moustache and beard wearing lipstick, earrings and a dress.
Peta’s song and dance about how there’s no rules or regulations “on the gender spectrum baby” is the key to this insidious ideology.
Gender is fluid. There are no rules. There’s not two sexes.
A man with a beard is described as a lady. What a child might think is normal isn’t so. Everything is confusing, ambiguous and the “normative world”, as they call it in academia, is disrupted.
Children can’t rely on their own judgment, they have to defer to these expert instructors on the correct way to understand things.
It’s also making impressionable children comfortable with talking about sexuality with people who are not their parents.
It’s “queering their childhood” in the academic parlance.
Cultural critic James Lindsay makes the case that Wokism is actually a form of Cultural
Communism, just like how Mao in China in 1966 reinvented Communism with his Cultural Revolution and Little Red Book.
“It is a theory that … wages war on the normal … and centres that war through identity politics,” Lindsay says. “It challenges anything normal, it does its activism by complicating everything.”
The ABC is the Pied Piper of gender ideology, leading our children off a cliff.
We ain’t in Kansas anymore, as Dorothy said.
We’ve arrived in a surreal upside down Wizard Of Oz world, where the more outlandish, the more it’s passed off as reality.
Actually, I think Aunty has morphed into a heavy-handed Aunty Jack, the pantomime moustached truckie, wearing a dress and workboots, belligerently enforcing his way in the world.
We need to put our foot down, or tap our red slippers together, and remind ourselves there’s no place like home. And get the hell out of here.