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David McElroy

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World has become a freak show, but we’re not supposed to notice

By David McElroy · July 13, 2021

Oli London is a British man who became obsessed with Korean pop culture. He became a social media star with his reviews of South Korean pop music. But then this white European decided he was born in the wrong body — so he decided he’s “transracial.”

London spent more than $200,000 for cosmetic surgery intended to give his face more “Korean features.” He used to look like any random white guy, but now he looks like a circus freak. (The photos above are before and after shots.) After 18 surgeries over a period of eight years, London says he is “transracial,” meaning he used to be white but now he’s Asian.

“I identify as Korean,” London proclaimed on a Twitter video. “That’s just my culture, that’s my home country. … I do identify as Korean, I don’t identify as British. I feel like I should have been born in Korea because in that culture, everything from the mannerisms to the way they look is what I identify with.”

Why are we supposed to pretend delusional people are sane?

Although it’s ultimately his own life and his own body, why are so many people afraid to say what should be obvious? This man is mentally ill — and he is completely out of touch with objective reality.

Postmodern culture is at war with objective reality — and nothing is as blasphemous to this insane new ideology than rationality.

If you dare to use facts and reason — to point to objective reality and then to point out delusional breaks from reality — the insane freak show around us screams that you hate people. In fact, being rational and trying to stand up for any form of objective reality is often ridiculed — by people screaming and pointing fingers — as “a tool of white supremacy.”

Until about six decades ago, everybody knew that sex and gender were the same things. Everybody understood that you were born a man or a woman. (There are a tiny number of people who are born with sexual organs of both sexes. Those biologically “intersex” people are beyond the scope of what I’m talking about here.) You might be born as straight or gay, but nobody would have argued — with a straight face — that a man could decide to be a woman or that a woman could decide to become a man.

It would have been considered objectively irrational based on simple definitions, in the same way that a boy who claimed to be a dog would be regarded as delusional as well.

There were men who liked to dress as women. There were women who liked to dress as men. We’ve always had people whose identities were confused or who simply found it convenient or even exciting to pass for the other sex.

But until somebody invented this idea — sometime in the 1960s — nobody would have pretended that this desire to be someone else changed who you were in an objective way.

Nobody would have pretended that a woman who cut off her breasts and took male hormones became a man. Nobody would have pretended that a man who cut off his penis and took female hormones became a woman.

But today, we are told that this is reality. And if we do not share this reality which people simply declare to be true — because this is the way they feel — we are accused of hating them.

Governments now allow men and women to change their sex designation on official legal documents. If there is no objective basis for this declaration, what’s the point of keeping records of it?

We live in Clown World. Everything has become a freak show. And if you dare to question what is passed off as reality, you will be heckled and shouted down. You will be attacked and ridiculed. You will be told — with absolutely no basis in reality — that you “hate” these people, no matter what you really might feel.

I don’t object to people being allowed to have their own private delusions. I don’t object to men pretending to be women or to women pretending to be men. I don’t even object to mentally ill people having radical surgeries that destroy their bodies — as long as they’re making voluntary decisions as adults.

But I do object when I am told that I must join in their delusions.

And that’s where we are today. If you refer to a man as “he” — when this man has decided he’s a “she” — you can be prosecuted by the law in many places for this “hate crime.” Even in the U.S., you can lose your job if you simply decline to join in supporting these delusions of people around you.

Most of the people I’ve known who have claimed to be “transsexual” were clearly mentally ill. I can think of only one such person who appeared to be sane and well-adjusted, even though she completely presented to the world as a man. (I didn’t even realize the truth for a long time.)

Human life can be very difficult today. Mental health can be confusing. But we’re not helping people when we pretend there are no objective standards about reality. And we’re not helping when we pretend that mentally ill people are sane and well-functioning adults.

We live in Clown World. If other people want to participate in a freak show — if they want to be in the show or just cheer them from the sidelines — that’s none of my business.

But it does become my business when you pretend that my understanding of simple objective reality is hatred. It’s my business when you insist that I join in your delusion. And it’s my business when you try to shut up anybody who dares to point out that the world has gone insane.

Facts still matter. Objective reality still matters. Reason matters.

The society which ignores reason and embraces subjective delusion is doomed.

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As part of my effort to rid my life of social media, I will no longer display links to my two Instagram accounts here. Those accounts will be dormant for the time being and will eventually be deleted. I plan to have a method for displaying photos here instead, but the solutions I’ve tested so far have been disappointing. I’m still working on it.

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Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 27, 2026 Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 27, 2026
Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 19, 2026 Sunset, Leeds, Alabama — August 19, 2026
When I got home at midnight Monday, I was doing so When I got home at midnight Monday, I was doing some work in the studio and Oliver wanted to join me, so I showed him around to acclimate him to the place again. He rarely goes in there, but I have pictures of him in that studio on the night I brought him home as a kitten. 😺
Earlier this week, I found two photos of Lucy and Earlier this week, I found two photos of Lucy and me that I had never seen. I loved finding the pictures, but seeing these photos left me thinking about the effect it has on us when we lose an animal we love — and it was also a reminder of how much my life has changed for the last nine months it’s been since I lost her. I wrote an essay about this. You can find it as the most recent post at davidmcelroy.org right now if you’re interested. I really do miss this sweet girl.
When I take lightning pictures, I’m always hoping When I take lightning pictures, I’m always hoping to get just one usable photo, but I got two dramatic images tonight. You might recognize the water tower and communication tower that you’ve seen in many of my sunset photos. This is about a mile from my house in Leeds, which is just east of Birmingham.
For those who are in places where it’s miserably h For those who are in places where it’s miserably hot today, here is a minute of light rain and gentle thunder from my back yard late Saturday afternoon. It’s very relaxing to stand at my back door and watch this, especially since the heat is pretty mild today — 80 degrees (about 26 celsius) — for July in the American South.
Alex was willing to cooperate with me for a new po Alex was willing to cooperate with me for a new portrait late Wednesday night. It’s been roughly three and a half years now since the cold night when I was able to lure him out from behind a garbage dumpster into a trap — but I don’t think he’s sorry at this point that he fell for the trick. 😺
This is the face of a man who’s thrilled that the This is the face of a man who’s thrilled that the weekend is finally here. It was a very long (and productive) week, but the time has finally come that I have time to write and read and think. Late Friday night, I’m at the McDonald’s near my house with a Diet Dr Pepper and a MacBook. For me, it’s like Cheers without the booze.
Donald Trump has figured out who to blame for the Donald Trump has figured out who to blame for the the D.C. Reflecting Pool turning green. The dastardly deed was carried out by a specially trained squad of Antifa cats trained by the Far Left. It’s not his fault. Arrest all the cats! #satire #parody
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Late Wednesday night, Meg is the only one of the c Late Wednesday night, Meg is the only one of the cats still hanging out with me in the bedroom while I’m writing.
When I got home late Wednesday night, I went to a When I got home late Wednesday night, I went to a side window to see how the cats would react to me showing up there unexpectedly. Alex got out of the bed on my desk and posed on the corner of the desk. Sam jumped into the window and meowed at me. This is an example of a picture that wouldn’t have been possible a few years ago, because the contrast was awful and it was far too hazy since it was taken through the window. But current tools that would have amazed me a few years ago allow me to save such images now. And that’s pretty satisfying.
From the CritterCam: I’m still at work on the othe From the CritterCam: I’m still at work on the other side of town, but Alex seems quite relaxed back home as he rests in the cat bed on my desk.
Meg just woke me up at 3:45 a.m. to let me know th Meg just woke me up at 3:45 a.m. to let me know that it’s time to play. She’s a very determined little girl. She’s purring up a storm. She was rubbing her face all over my hair and walking on top of me until I woke up to give her the attention she demanded.
Late Tuesday afternoon, Meg visited the hanging ba Late Tuesday afternoon, Meg visited the hanging basket of the castle for the very first time. She’s not sure what she thinks. It was only a week ago when she went to the vet and then joined us, but it already seems as though she’s been here forever. She and the other cats are still avoiding each other — and there will be some minor hissing at times ‚ but they can spend lots of time in the same room for a long time without issues. So her integration into the family is right on schedule.
Late Monday night, Meg has been lying on the bed a Late Monday night, Meg has been lying on the bed and Oliver is at the foot of the bed spying on her. He’s just watching instead of trying to come closer — and she’s watching him in return. They’re just watching, not hissing, right now.
Just before midnight, Meg was relaxing peacefully Just before midnight, Meg was relaxing peacefully in my arms while lying on her back. If you look at the bottoms of her back legs, you can see the remaining traces of the dirt from her feral days. Even though I’ve washed her carefully, the stain is still there for the time being. I think she’s a happy girl to live inside the house — and she hasn’t been with us for quite a week yet.
This three-second clip is the only hissing we’ve h This three-second clip is the only hissing we’ve had today. Oliver just got a bit too curious for Meg’s preference, so when he tried to sniff her, she let him have her full wrath. (This is super short because it’s made from one of the iPhone’s “live photos,” which can be converted to video.)
About two months ago, I saw Meg for the first time About two months ago, I saw Meg for the first time from this office window at the front of our house. She was walking down the street you see here and I posted a picture of her that day. Just before sunset Sunday, she made it into that window for her very first time, but she has no idea that she was sitting in the spot from which I first saw her.
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Meet my new girlfriend. Her name is Meg. And she’s my little sweetheart. A couple of months ago, a neighbor across the street told me about a new stray in the neighborhood that she and I were both soon feeding. The cat had been very skittish about contact and she had a lot of scabs and parasites in her fur, but a trip to the vet last week revealed that she was otherwise in good health. The vet estimates her to be 1 to 2 years old. I named her for Meg Murry, the 13-year-old protagonist of Madeleine L’Engle’s wonderful book, “A Wrinkle in Time.” (Please read the book. Don’t watch the horrible movie.) Since we lost Lucy almost a year ago, it seems appropriate that we finally have a new little girl to join the household. She’s already captured my heart, but Alex, Oliver and Sam aren’t there quite yet.

There’s nothing socially acceptable that’s as dangerous as drinking alcohol. Most people grow up being told to “drink responsibly” — and all of us see people abusing this drug in one way or another — but the truth is that drinking alcohol is always a terrible risk. The alcohol in these drinks is toxic and the human liver has to work hard to filter the toxins out. What most people don’t realize is that alcohol is classified as a known carcinogen by the World Health Organization — because of the well-established connection between imbibing and various cancers. Many people have taken refuge behind the idea that light or moderate drinking might be safe, but a new study shows that drinking even one drink a day increases the risks of 10 types of cancer. When I was a teen-ager, I looked around and saw the negative effects that this behavior had on a lot of people and decided not to start drinking, so I’ve never even tried this poison. The evidence keeps piling up that I was lucky to have come to that conclusion early.

It hasn’t happened yet, but there’s a possibility that I might be taking in a fourth feline. A couple of months ago, a cat-loving neighbor asked whether I’d seen a “tuxedo cat” hanging out in the neighborhood. I hadn’t, but this guy eventually wandered past my house a few weeks later — and we haven’t been able to find evidence that he has a home. I’ve been giving him water and food for the last week and he finally let me pet him two nights ago. He’s purred for me two nights in a row and he let me take a low-quality selfie with him Thursday night. Tonight, though, he let me pick him up and bring him inside to look around. This went surprisingly well, as you can see from this photo. I don’t know whether he’ll be joining the family, but I’m certain that Alex, Oliver and Sam would vote no, at least until they get to know him. I’m trying to make certain he doesn’t have a home, but if he does join us, what do you suppose his name will be?

It turns out that the radical far left has been training “Antifa cats” to sabotage anything important to Donald Trump. Everything he did was perfect. Honest. It was all the cats’ fault. Arrest all the cats! This is the latest of my ridiculous satirical shorts. Please go watch it. Then “like” it and subscribe. Please. I’m begging you. (Too much?) Although a couple of the previous videos have had views in the hundreds, most have still been seen by fewer than 20 people. So I seem to be having trouble letting people know that page exists.

Here’s the latest of my ridiculous parody shorts. It crossed my mind Tuesday to wonder what a slick and fast-talking car dealer might do right now to try to turn the high price of gasoline to his advantage. So I conceived of a fat and lovable character who tried to sell cars that don’t use any fuel — and then I started wondering if it would be funnier if all the characters were felines. Designing the King Cashpaw character took about four hours, but the rest took only another four hours, so this was a relatively quick piece that virtually wrote itself. I know it’s almost impossible for these parody videos to find a larger audience, but at least they amuse me — and there are 19 of them on my YouTube page now. The first few were very limited, but they’re getting more complex.

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