The Moore-Burchill-Observer-Featherstone transgenderphobic holocaust explained.

One female comrade said something flippant about Brazilian transsexuals and some non-Brazilian comrade transsexuals got so upset they thought the world was going to come to an end and issued a declaration of outraged thinness of skin and then a female comrade friend of the first female comrade wrote in her defence some even more flippant transgenderphoberist comments which caused the comrade Editor of a paper that’s part of the same organisation as the paper that printed the really bad comments but isn’t the one he edits to say that it wasn’t his paper the transgenderphobic article was published in but the other one but by this time the Twittersphere and all comrade-land had gone mental and the female comrade who wrote the first comments about Brazilians got so many unsympathetic comments on Twitter reminding her of her duty to be committed to politically correct equality for absolutely everybody without exception or humour and she was no better than a Nazi because she was encouraging global transgendercide that she said she’d had enough and would cease tweeting and a few more people joined in and finally the paper that printed the defence of the first female comrade decided the transgression was too much and removed the offensively defensive article because there was no justification in offending Brazilians and transgender people who have no sense of humour because this is a serious issue and then the first female comrade declares she’s back to tweeting again but not before some totally racially and gender sensitive female MP from what used to be be the beards and sandals party took to the Tweetosphere to shriek for the second comrade female to be sacked and binned for writing something that didn’t accord with the Protocols of Correctitude and everyone who was so thick of skin they couldn’t feel the equally and diversely demanded level of pain for a sanctioned minority but who did enjoy the sight of a bunch of Mediaworld citizens indulging in the equivalent of a scrap in the Bigg Market* on a Saturday night laughed and laughed and laughed.

* The Bigg Market: a notorious area of pleasure-seeking and debauchery in the heart of The Toon.

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