Go and see a trans comedian at the Edinburgh Fringe, while you still can

The fastest way to disprove Liz Truss’s paranoid fantasies about transgender people is to come watch one of us do stand-up comedy

I do like to think my 2022 Edinburgh Fringe poster counts as a small act of revolution (Dylan Woodley)

“I can’t stand all these women comedians nowadays. All they ever talk about is their penises.” Comedy allows us to speak truth to power. Not that “truth” is necessarily a language that power understands.

How does a working class, transgender comic rise above the right-wing caterwauls and put on a happy face, while the UK government rolls back her human rights in realtime? These are the questions going through my head as I touch down on the slippery cobblestone streets of Edinburgh Fringe.

It behoves the Tories to demonise us. We stand out, there’s not many of us and we’re a colourful distraction. But it’s probably not as Machiavellian as it seems. Like most things, the trans community’s recent tank in public opinion polls is based on fear. The same way we tend to exaggerate the size of nearby spiders in our minds. “What if they get into our mouths and lay their eggs?”. Note: this also applies to spiders.

Laughter is a reflex evolved to relieve the body of excess fear. It’s the reason trans comics do so well straight out of the gate – because you lot are so ready to pop, all we need to do is provide a tiny prick.

The fastest way to disprove Liz Truss’s paranoid fantasies about transgender people is to come watch one of us do stand-up comedy. Come and sit six feet from our surgically-altered bodies as we wax lyrical about the same shit you deal with every day. Feel your gut muscles undulate with spasmodic expiration. Feel the cognitive dissonance flood your brain as your subconscious is forced to balance the impossible equation: How can such a “mentally ill deviant” elicit such a warm human response in my personal tummy-space?

Thankfully, it’s still legal for us to express ourselves. Beneath all the corporate crap and reptilian property owners, the heart of the Edinburgh Fringe still beats with the sentiment that “this is where you come to express yourself”. And so, to Edinburgh, we flock. My advice? Go see a transgender comedian, before they kill us all off.

“Why should you go see a transgender comedian?” A hack would give you a joke answer. As a professional… I’ll give you two jokes and one serious one for balance…

As a pre-op transwoman with a boob job, I possess a disproportionate number of hilarious appendages. Most of us have experienced BOTH bathrooms within our lifetimes. That’s twice the toilet humour for your money. And as much as the UK government would have you believe otherwise, transgender people are incredibly relatable. Who hasn’t looked in the mirror and seen a stranger staring back? “That can’t be me, I’m not that old.” Or: “That can’t be me, I’m not a person who wears a tie.” Or: “That can’t be me, I look so sad.”

If you’re at the Fringe this year, and want to see a transgender comedian, listen up. Like our comic book namesakes – The X-Men – we walk among you. We’re everywhere; each of us is more unique than the last. There’s the hilarious Jen Ives (Peak Trans, 7pm, Gilded Balloon Patter Hoose), rising star and Graham Linehan’s ongoing obsession.

There’s OG British trans comic (and fellow muso), Andrew O’Neill (We Are Not In the Least Afraid of Ruins; We Carry a New World in Our Hearts, 5:30pm, Liquid Room Annex) whose gender journey has since taken them in a non-binary direction. And then, I s’pose, there’s me – that transgender bird off The Voice with her scandalous posters all over town and an hour of “musical stand-up” about babies, boobies, bigots and Batman. (Jordan Gray: Is It A Bird? 10:25pm, The Box, Assembly, George Square).

To keep up to speed with all the latest opinions and comment, sign up to our free weekly Voices Dispatches newsletter by clicking here

I’m not a political person. Much like my genetically-misplaced genitals, I definitely lean to the left, but ultimately I don’t take any of it very seriously. But I do like to think my 2022 Edinburgh Fringe poster counts as a small act of revolution. Suffice to say, my naked bod is plastered all over town this year – albeit nips and todger tactically obscured by a microphone and superhero cape. Far from any sort of public outrage, the poster is actually hotly-tipped to win the coveted Comedy Awards “Poster Of The Year”.

But if you ARE one of the “outraged” gentlemen standing back gawping in disbelief, don’t pretend like I’m the first transgender woman you’ve ever seen. Statistically speaking, your internet search history begs to differ. According to the figures, you are the leading researchers in the field!

Such is the combination of British sexual repression and transgender demonisation. You’re just ashamed to admit you just might enjoy spending an hour in a dark room with me. Perhaps that’s why my tickets are selling like hotcakes?

Jordan Gray is a comedian, actor and screenwriter. You can book tickets for her Edinburgh Fringe show, Jordan Gray: Is It A Bird? here