More accurately, semantics is a word meaning the meaning of words, and semiotics is a word meaning the meaning of symbols. Man, this is a cup of tea right up my alley in my milly ewe.
You guys know all of this already. Every example was already discussed at length the moment they first appeared. Everyone knew all at once the game being played. The video is for somebody else. Maybe your sister.
The trick, and it's a real trick, is never accept the distorted language of others, always stick to your own vocabulary, because when you do frame your reply comporting with their distorted language you automatically cede important ground upon which they've decided to wage their battle. And it's a battle.
I said something on YouTube that I knew few would like, and I said that, sure enough someone took the bait and responded, "So what you're saying then is this ..." I didn't say that because it didn't need saying. The conclusion was too simplistic too basic to even bother. Then, "So much hate." There is no hate in what I said. Only disgust. And disgust is not hate. Hate is her word, not mine, her projected emotion, not mine. But I didn't bother to respond to her, I saw it in email that I thought I had turned off, just let it all hang, because I flatly don't care what some random dummkopf thinks in their distorted way. I don't care if she projects hate onto me. Every reader got my point including her and that's all I care about. But if I would respond then I would start with her woefully wrong vocabulary inappropriately applied. Nyyyyah, what an ul-ta-ra maroon. (It was another YouTube language video put up by a British Egyptologist who I put on mute and read subtitles instead within the first thirty seconds following several dislocated Rs and finally, "Afriker." *boink* mute for you. For resistance to the proper pronunciation of the continent under discussion. And I don't care how brilliant she is beyond her speech impediment. The whole video turned out to be not worth the trouble. All the Egypt related videos are introductory. Very few ever go beyond beginner level. Bah humbug.)
No, this Prager U video is not for you. It's all basic the same way. All kindergarten review. Though, it's good to be reminded, they say "undocumented migrant worker" and you say without missing a beat, "illegal alien" in your casual reply. They say "she" for "Katlyn Jenner," and you reply "he" and "Bruce." Perhaps Bruce is transitioning with drugs, growing breasts, defying nature, contradicting his genetic reality, but he still has his penis, and that is the penal code. Have that dangling participle removed and I'll play your identity game with you.
I'm not against transgendered people.
There really are genetic in-between cases. Not everything always works out perfectly according to plan. And on the other hand, maybe that is nature's plan, to have situations that don't sort black and white.
Did I ever tell you about a young man at Reece's Coffee House? That was a place open all night in the Brooks apartment towers on 15th St. across from FRB. We of night crew could drop in for lunch any time of the night, sometimes encounter actors working half a block beyond in the Performance Arts Center, like Leonard Nemoy or musicians and comedians working next door in a small intimate club, like Richard Pryor.
The boy worked as a waitress, and he worked very hard too. He looked no different from any other standard drag queen except a lot less garish. He was actually rather attractive as a woman. He was trying very hard to fit in as a woman. Genuinely fit in. He was a genuine transitioned person living his life fully as female. He did not seem to be psychologically odd, rather, he is a tender soul working as a woman, accepting his place, playing the cards he was dealt. Not particularly bright nor capable as waitress. A bit flustered. He probably made a better woman than he makes a man. I saw him as a boy. He spoke in his natural voice which came across as extremely sexy to my coworkers. Every one of my male coworkers who saw him mentioned lustfully what they'd like to do with her. They considered her out of their league. He is a real her to all of them. With zero suspicion otherwise. I found that tremendously funny. I never told anyone that is really a boy. I didn't want to disrupt his delicately balanced life or make things more difficult for him, expose him to ridicule, and I enjoyed my coworkers being so stupid, so easily misled. The whole thing was charming. If any one of them would face up to their own low self-esteem and actually ask him out, boy, would they ever be in for a surprise. In a way, I kind of hoped that at least one of them would. I'd bet they'd be so taken by his gentleness, his vulnerability, his kindness, his struggle, that they would feel the same sense of protection toward him as I did.
If ever there is a case of genuine genetic in-between then this man blended as woman is it.