...to see trannies suffer depression, dysfunction, and death. Call me a monster, a sociopath, and autist, all are applicable, and two of the three are, all things considered, most likely true, but there's an undeniably delicious schadenfreude that comes from observing a gloriously horrific trainwreck. When that trainwreck happens to be a person, the laughs which can be milked from the unfortunate events comprising his or her life are, well... limited only by how long it takes for the troon in question to inevitably off itself.
From the earliest days of human history, the idea of a man in women's clothing has been inherently funny. In Western literature, Eastern fables, and dramas the world over, men dressed in feminine garments are cast never as heroes, like their counterparts, women in mens' clothing (think Mulan) sometimes are, but rather as deceivers. Bumbling at best, and vicious at worst, these men who've forsaken their innate biological and mental rigidity for the light pleasures of femininity are rightly derided.
In the modern world, too, this fact of troondom is evident. All trannies are, without exception, chasing hedged-bet happiness on the basis of feminine flights of fancy. Anyone and everyone recognizes men who are too weak to handle manhood, who've fled from the trials of masculine existence to imagined security. Because that's what trannies are, really, they're weak. Like women, they want to be protected, but, unlike women, they have nothing to offer men. They cannot bear children, they certainly aren't fit to raise them, and their cowardice marks them as insignificant intellectually, and laughable physically.
There are no troon philosophers, there are no troon kings, there are only weaklings who suffer the pains of existence poorly, unable to bear the bridle of man's struggle, and too cowardly to face existence without delusion.
