We, trans women, can recognize within eachother our own group belonging (this statement is nearly meaningless. What else would group belonging or culture mean?). We also see within this belonging the way that it resists history. We are of a genus that was conceived alongside heterosexual sex distinctions, but which is barely out of the womb. We should be able to understand our struggle as one seeking to redeem the past (he is always on my mind), and we find the catastrophy in the history of womanhood. A genus subjugated to and as the (re)production of men. We turn towards this, as men, and cannot bear manhood (we retroactively destroy our man-childhood and discover how we were always female, or always to be female). But in our turning away from being those for whom women are (re)production, and becoming women, we fail to become (re)production (of the male). This is why we must be destroyed. We become those who cannot produce or be maleness. An excess of this productive process. That determination is shared with other women, it is not exclusive to trans women; we are monsters because this excess is pulled out from maleness. We represent the death of the homogeneous male world. We excape out of the puncture wound on his side. We redeem women's history by destroying the male sex. By freeing women from masculine production. But this is what we are --- the destruction of the male sex --- so when our task is done, our genus will die. This terrifies me. Our beauty and joy will end. One might despair. But we need not. We destroy the male and with him the need to be eternal (to be God). We are part of a newly born, and mortal, genus. The beauty we participate in is historically unique (yes there were treamors, but we are only now alive). Whatever one might be sad about losing should be loved now.