An attractive young woman suits up in a tight mini skirt and a skimpy peekaboo blouse, paints her face like Irma la Douce, dons a flashy diamond necklace, sticks a wad of 100-dollar bills into each of her exposed garters, puts on a pair of four-inch stilettos, gets plastered out of her mind, and proceeds to take a midnight stroll on the South Side of Chicago, all by herself.
She ends up raped, strangled, and robbed.
Now, if—upon condemning this act of violence—you ever so gently offered for consideration the thesis that the young lady’s choices in the run-up to her demise may not have been among the most conducive to her personal welfare, chances are you’d be taken to the woodshed by every women’s and victim’s rights group under the sun for “blaming the victim” in a disgraceful bid to make excuses for her attacker(s), as if you were implying that on account of the victim’s conduct the crime committed was less severe than had she been stone sober, wrapped in a burlap blanket with a potato sack over her head, and assaulted en route to the grocery store in broad daylight with fifteen body guards and a pack of … (Read More »»)

Some folks were born one sex but would like to be the other. More precisely, they feel they are the opposite sex, but owing to some sort of cosmic misunderstanding or genetic snafu, their soul/spirit/essence or whatever came to inhabit the wrong body. Now their hormones find themselves in a perpetual state of war with their external anatomy, thus resulting in a painfully conflicted existence. Something like that. So if a man perceives himself to be trapped in a female body or vice-versa, and the psychological distress over such mismatch impairs his/her daily functioning, that person is diagnosed with Gender Identity Disorder. 
