The never-ending quest to figure out what all this “gender” stuff is about continues. Thanks to the wonders of the Internet, the question has been answered!
The Gender Genie allows you to paste in a 500-word block of text, choose whether your sample is fiction, non-fiction, or a blog entry, and click … voila! The true gender of the writer is revealed.
The Petit Maître. A Poem
By a Lady.
Tell me, gentle hob’dehoy!
Art thou Girl, or art thou Boy?
Art thou Man, or art thou Ape;
For thy Gesture and thy Shape,
And thy Features and thy Dress,
Such contraries do express:
I stand amaz’d, and at a Loss to know,
To what new Species thou thy Form dost owe?
By thy Hair comb’d up behind,
Thou should’st be of Womankind:
But that damn’d forbidding Face,
Does the charming Sex disgrace;
Man, or Woman, thou art neither;
But a blot, a shame to either:
Nor dare to Brutehood, even to make Pretence;
For Brutes themselves, shew greater Signs of Sense.
By thy Jaws all lank and thin;
By that forc’d unmeaning grin:
Thou appear’st to human Eyes,
Likesome Ape of monst’rous Size;
Yet an Ape thou can’s not be,
Apes are more Adroit than thee;
Thy Odditties so much my Mind perplex,
I neither can define thy Kind or Sex.
Art thou Substance, art thou Shade?
That thus monst’rously array’d,
Walking forth in open Day,
Dost our Senses quite dismay?
Unghastly yet, thou only can’st provoke,
Our Rage, our Detestation, and our Joke.
If thou art a Man, forbear
Thus, this motly Garb to wear;
Do not Reason thus displace,
Do not Man-hood thus disgrace;
But thy Sex by Dress impart,
And appear like what thou art:
Like what thou art, said I, pray pardon me;
I mean, appear like what thou ought’st to be.