So, this came after my Transtasia, and it came after me publishing the scripts for Weeded Out week by week, and reading them as a radio play. I guess that I was breaking the mould somewhat by using Facebook as a vehicle to launch into pre-production on a potential film, and one of the tactics that I used online was to call out people (like Jennifer) that I thought might want to work on it. Jennifer as an intimacy coordinator, not an actress! - Alongside that, I was getting a lot of flack in the back channels for sounding like Don. Hence a series of articles where I pointed out the differences. I got quite mean, because it really ticked me off that singing in a Kiwi accent was considered to be Don's thing, as if all those Dunedin rock types didn't exist...
I was benchmarking myself against Don, but also against lots of people. That's one of those corporate-speak things that I do. - Plus, of course, my crush on Chlöe had been brewing for a while, and I'd hit her up about some drug lobbying (she ignored my requests). Basically, Wellington's elite still fundamentally blamed me for the occupation. My view of this is because I was friends with Emanuel, and they might have blamed my brother's documentary for making it look too enticing. They wanted the project, but they didn't want to reward my tactics. Plus some karens - not Karen O'Leary - were clearly bitching and moaning about my bulge. Hence, Tory's roast. I didn't want to go. Lucinda invited me, and Chlöe was the bait. Chlöe's angry that I didn't go and talk to her that night: she left halfway through, but spent a good minute or so staring me down before she left.
Why did they choose this method? Because the cops are on my side, and have been since 2020. They didn't charge me for any of the shit that Tory's people mentioned. According to the Police, I'm a transgender person that lives their fashion sense, and wasn't causatively responsible for the occupation. Anyone with half a brain knows that it was a concerted effort from fringe wackos across the Anglosphere. My song, with maybe a thousand views, had nothing to do with it.
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You're all thinking 'well, that's tough, but it's hardly actionable' ... well, the story continues.
When I got home that night and was wanking, it became obvious that they - I didn't really know who they was (NZSIS) - were implying that Tory and the hui people were watching.
This, after telling me to be the best ally ever and detransition, I might add... that, plus their intolerable notes on the script and (yes) real threats of jail over my perceived sex offending and low-level drug dealing, caused me to say no after the Big Smoke.
This, to my mind, is a clear and obvious example of an attempt at conversion therapy.
Telling me to either detransition or fully transition is simply and plainly illegal, particularly if it was such a concerted effort by a number of politicians and their supporters.
I have good reason to believe that the FTAC wanted to force me to undergo genital reassignment surgery until the Wellington Stories trilogy came out. This was obviously supported at many levels by law enforcement: that is an untenable reality, and I demand that they admit it was illegal.
There is no justifiable motive for those actions, and a large number of Wellingtonians were playing along with Tory's vision. That's why I feel like the city is actively hostile to me, and I want to move elsewhere.
But, alas, I'm stuck here until Debbie's Gender Identity and Expression Bill is done.
So, I'm asking for an apology, compensation and a statement of guilt.
$30,000 was the low-ball offer re: compensation. That's to cover the expenses of my Dakumentary - which I had to make to clear my name. Split it amongst yourselves.
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PS: I wasn't avoiding Chlöe. I was torn about whether to pursue her and make my fantasy come true, versus the crazy life that she leads and whether I could survive that reality. Plus she wasn't the only woman for me. There was lots going on...
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