The Curious Beast That Is X's TERF Brigade (and My 24-Hour Ban for Handbag Violence)

Well, well, well. At long last, in my new little house, I have broadband. It’s only taken four weeks and four separate appointments. Engineer number one: ill. Engineer number two: lost. Engineer number three: imaginary. But today, at last, a lovely young man appeared and installed a small box under my desk and that’s not a euphemism. So now, dear readers, I can finally write again.

And what better way to celebrate than with a tale about X that strange, dysfunctional, wildly addictive little corner of the internet that brings out the philosopher, comedian, and lunatic in us all.

Let’s begin with the headline: I have just been banned for 24 hours on X.
The charge? “Violence or inciting violence.”

My crime? A woman called me a violent male. I replied, “Oh yes, very violent. I’ll be coming after you with my handbag.”
Apparently, this was too much for Elon’s little army of content moderators. Handbag violence is real, folks. So now I must delete the offending tweet before I am allowed back into polite X-society.

But the 36 hours leading up to my ban were the real show.

It began when I encountered someone called Sarah Fillimore, a barrister with a logo that looks suspiciously like the Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Championships but apparently represents a movement to “Stand By Sandie Peggy.” I’d never heard of either of them, but in I went, like a fool, assuming this might be an intelligent debate.

We sparred or so I thought. I made my case. She made hers. I even tried to explain gender identity using software engineering metaphors. (“Sometimes the paradigm must break for the system to function more efficiently.”) I admitted I wasn’t a biological woman, but that given the effort I’ve made, walking out of a men’s toilet now would look quite ridiculous.

Anyway, I thought I was being civil. I even said, “I’ve quite enjoyed sparring with you.”
At which point she lost her mind and replied, “Typical man, thinks disagreement is sparring yadda yadda.”

And that was my lightbulb moment. You cannot win with these people. You cannot reason, find common ground, or even politely disagree. All you can do is laugh.

So I did. I went on a small spree of posts, half for amusement, half for anthropology. I began calling her “Sarah” in that tone of gentle exasperation usually reserved for a toddler holding scissors near a plug socket. I posted memes. I teased. I joked. And dear God, the response, hundreds of comments, thousands of reposts. I think I unleashed Terfdom’s entire cavalry division.

And you know what? It was glorious. I felt oddly free

I have given up debating these people. Winding them up is much, much, much more fun..

Because until then, I’d still been trying to debate them in good faith. But once you realise reason isn’t welcome, something shifts. It stops being an argument and becomes performance art. You might as well enjoy yourself.

So that’s where I’m at with X. Don’t bother reasoning with them. Wind them up or ignore them entirely. Life’s too short.

Just don’t threaten anyone with your handbag. The algorithm doesn’t have a sense of humour.