On
Seeing Let Me Die A Woman
Michelle Clifford
Sleazoid Express/Metasex Editor - Publisher
Co-author of “Sleazoid Express: A Mind Twisting Tour Through
the Grindhouses of Times Square”
I don’t like Doris Wishman.
I don’t like that she doesn’t take responsibility for being a
pornographer. For some societally
twisted reason she demands you take her as a sweet innocent woman. She plays the Leni Riefenstahl card. She sets up the porn shoot and gets the
actors in place and as the actual balling is taking place she leaves the
room. Phornographer intteruptus. As if sex is beneath her and the actors are
freaks or lowlifes too disgusting for her to bear witness to. She can give the orders but cannot take the
responsibility of what she’s done.
She’s like “Me? A
Pornographer? How distasteful. NO Way! I’m a nice old lady. ” Bullshit.
And she’s as crude as the rest of the hardcore makers who fuck over
actors on pay by clipping scenes from other films they were paid minimally for
and just using their performances unpaid in further films like the actors are
nothing more than paper dolls. Harry
Reems and Vanessa Del Rio weren’t paid to be in Let Me Die A Woman.
Their performances are cut from one of Doris’ porn films and pasted in. Harry, in particular, wouldn’t have wanted
to appear in such a homosexually driven movie.
That was never his style. Vanessa would have demanded
payment. Doris is as sleazy and
unethical as any other low-end cheapskate hardcore pornographer.
The doctor in the film is repulsive. A side shot of him looks like it was lifted
from the Nazi propaganda film The Eternal Jew. The Dr. also has something to do with religion, as is oft the
case with physicians involved with trannies.
They have a “creator” delusion.
I disagree with the term transsexual unless it’s used to describe
someone who’s had the full operation. The pre-ops walk into meetings where the doctor tells them “You
look beautiful today!” They don’t! They look like any other homely as shit mess
Times Square pre-op, homicidal and ready to take out a switchblade to off
themselves or someone else. The good
Dr. tells pre-ops – people who merely have had the tit injections – that
they’re woman, and that’s a boldfaced lie.
They’re men who have merely got some hormones and breast enlargement
injections. That does not make
them women. It makes them delusional and miserable tied to a freak enabler
svengali. It makes them hopeful for a
future that will never manifest hand held by a quack with a creator complex
who’s as disturbed as they are.
Let Me Die A Woman is all about
homosexual self-hatred. The pre- and
post- ops won’t accept the truth of their own homosexuality. When they do have sex, they go with men who
like anal sex, so it’s all about pain.
These delusionals still sport cocks.
No matter how small and useless and pathetic they are they represent
their masculinity. And denying they
exist is just insane. I think this “Dr.” should have his license taken away.
The doctor keeps his charges bombed on different
pharmaceutical cocktails so they’re as docile as cult members. “Yes doctor, I am
beautiful,” they chant back at him in their group support meeting as if in a
dominance session. The people in this meeting are as ugly and disturbed looking
as a psyche ward. The Dr. proudly
demonstrates his technique of injection, which involves a hard slap at the
moment of needle insertion. – a completely unnecessary move with an
intramuscularly given injection.
A Latino post op that explains his life is the main
interview subject. He reveals that he
was never able to admit being a homosexual.
He’s not trapped in the body of female – he simply can’t deal with being
a homosexual man. And the physical pain of a sex change – which he described as
excruciating- is better than the pain of homosexuality. His interviews are
framed in an ugly dark blue room that displays Doris’ visual aesthetic. The man
passes easily for a mamasita flagrantly sporting braless big jugs for Doris’
peeping eye camera. He admits that sex
is less than thrilling. He says he’s
read of multiple orgasms and he’s lucky if within a relationship he has any at
all.
Another post op tells about his little girl being so
understanding about his condition. Then
after this emotional stripping he is made to disrobe and insert a metal dildo
into his new vagina….just to show us it works like a real one. Classy..no? I’m sure his daughter
will understand that display as well. Hell, kids are resilient. And what a proper place to discuss her in a
Times Square exploitation flick just before doing a vagina insertion trick. The Dr. beams at his freak creation.
No mistake that Doris would gravitate towards this subject
matter. It’s all about denial…. Secrecy.
Hell, she’s a pornographer who left the room for the sex scenes. And she makes sure we know the exact
supposed count of her lovers as to bizarrely prove she is no loose woman. As a woman she is a discredit to her
gender. The whole fetish factor of Let
Me Die A Woman is that a female made it instead of a man. When I first met Mr. Sleazoid and asked him
who controlled Times Square’s adult theaters, I was blown away to learn that
lesbians ran the whole show, from the all-male houses to the live show
showplaces. Anyone ever wonder about
Doris’ covert sexual tendencies? If she
were a lesbian we would all be the very last to know.
As the study on female bullies Odd Girl Out points
out, society doesn’t expect such hostility and exploitativness from
females. The hidden and unexpected
female hostility described so well in that key psychiatric book is demonstrated
by Doris’ cinematic approach in Let Me Die A Woman.
Wait for the feeble, ass backward
Hollywood version of Doris’ life, ala Ed Wood. It’s the type of material that major studios eat up for
breakfast. See Doris as a happy go
lucky housewife who makes kooky movies and her venal, thieving distributor,
Jerry Balsam, turned into nothing more than an innocuous William Castle style
cigar chomper. See the porno actors she
got over on turned into harmless flits.