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In This Edition
When the scales of justice are swapped for movable goalposts, absurdity ceases to be theatre and becomes law.
From Caesars in togas to judges in wigs, history proves being a frocked feller is no crime, yet free speech now stands in the dock.
In these fushigi times, defending satire and plain speech is no longer comedy but it is civilisation’s closing argument.
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Production Credits
Creator / Writer / Presenter: Angelino Schintu
Produced, Recorded & Engineered at: Fushigi Labs Tokyo
Opening & Closing Voice / Audio Production: Thomas Kinkaid
Theme Music: Original composition Fushigi by Andrew P Partington
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Reporting from the Hoity-Toity-Heidi-High Court
Here outside the grand, rather flamboyantly titled, Hoity-Toity-Heidi-High Court of Irreproachable Decorum in London, the Kirralie Smith case appealing the judgment handed down by an Australian court that found her guilty of unlawful vilification, otherwise known as hate speech is about to begin. The point of contention? Her social media description of a transgender athlete as a… ‘bloke in a frock.’ Yes, you heard that correctly. For the uninitiated: that’s local slang for a feller in a skirt, a dude in ball gown, a man in a dress.
The case has somehow found its way here, to London’s most grandiloquent court, a place where wigs are taller than toddlers and titles are longer than legal judgments, a fitting stage for an appeal that began in the comparatively modest confines of Sydney's local court.
What makes today particularly noteworthy is the person representing Ms Smith. No, it’s not the Lincoln Lawyer, nor Boston’s silver-tongued, primetime television legal virtuoso, Alan Shore. It is The Fushigi Times editor-in-chief, Angelino Schintu, whose decades in journalism, broadcasting and occasional stage and screen turns in barrister’s and priest’s frocks, have endowed him with the eloquence and courtroom flair to argue the merits of this case.
It's one that has captured attention far beyond the usual legal circles, because it isn’t just about a single phrase or social media post. It touches on freedom of speech, satire, and, frankly, common sense. Kirralie Smith’s supporters argue she was merely stating an obvious biological reality, in a typically Australian, colloquial style. Her critics say the language was offensive. Either way, the Commonwealth, and now this court, is about to weigh in.
Inside the Courtroom
All rise! The Most Honourable Montague St John Fairfax-Blythe, Third Earl of Tittingford-on-Thames, Viscount Wexbridge, Baron Alderleigh, Keeper of the King’s Benchlands, Lord High Steward of the Thames Marshes, Grand Arbiter of Silken Robes and Ceremonial Sashes, Defender of Historic Frock Protocols, and Supreme Chancellor of the Hoity-Toity-Heidi-High Court of Irreproachable Decorum presiding.
The Court is now in session for the appeal of Ms Kirralie Smith against the decision by the Deputy Chief Magistrate of the local court in Sydney, Australia, who found Ms. Smith guilty of unlawful vilification in relation to her description of a transgender athlete as a ‘bloke in a frock.’
Arguing for the Defence: Opening Statement
Your Honour – I mean, Your Emanent Lordship, esteemed members of the court, and all assembled, I rise today to address a ruling that defies not just logic, but history, reason, and frankly, the collective memory of Western civilisation’s wardrobe choices.
My client, Ms Kirralie Smith, a woman of sharp wit, impeccable timing, and enviable sartorial taste, has been found guilty of unlawful vilification for referring to two male-born athletes as… well... men. In case you missed it, this decision was rendered by the Deputy Chief Magistrate Sharon Freund of the New South Wales local court in Sydney, Australia.
Now, one might assume, in a properly functioning world, that the observation that two biological males are men would be wholly uncontroversial. Yet here we are, Your Worship, forced to waste the court’s indulgence wrestling not with a matter of law, but with absurdity.
Exhibit A: Antiquity, and Where It All Began
Mi’Lord, if you’ll indulge me for the briefest of moments, let us commence with a little history. Consider ancient Rome. Everyone’s in a frock. Julius Caesar, Augustus, even the skirt-wearing gladiators when they weren’t shirtless, because, apparently, chest hair and biceps alone were insufficient for the Senate’s approval. The toga: a giant bed sheet you wore like you’d lost a bet in a particularly cruel hazing incident or frat house challenge. And somehow, this improvised garment became the uniform of world domination. One wonders if the fearsome Gauls, you know – Astérix and Obélix - paused mid-charge to look downward toward their loins and critique their pleats.
And ancient Greece. Equally fabulous. Finish a naked, sweaty wrestling match, towel yourself off, slip into a chiton, which is essentially a summer dress, and then head out to invent democracy. Imagine Socrates philosophising in flowing linen while debating whether sandals or bare feet best convey moral superiority.
What about in Biblical times. I’ll pause to satirise my own faith for a moment. Mi’Lord can be certain Moses did not part the Red Sea in cargo shorts. No, he was in a frock. And what about Jesus? Sandals, robe, beard. Basically, a first-century hipster in a linen maxi dress. The wedding at Cana? Water miraculously turned into wine. Less a ‘banquet of manliness’ and more ‘H&M summer collection launch meets miracle catering.’
Shakespeare’s plays. Women were forbidden on stage, so all female roles were portrayed by? Yes. Men in dresses! Imagine the passion of Romeo with his Juliet or Ophelia, performed by – yes, Mi’Lord – blokes in frocks, delivering tragic lines to an audience of Elizabethan gentlemen, who themselves were likely sporting ruffs so stiff they could double as neck armour.
And let’s not forget Japan’s Kabuki theatre, where even today, the onnagata, male actors specialising in female roles, perform in elaborate kimonos and makeup. From London’s Globe to Tokyo’s Kabuki-za, theatrical frocks and gender-bending performance have a long, illustrious lineage.
And what about the Celts? Those were Frocks. Vikings? Tunics to the knees. Samurai? Hakama trousers so wide they might as well be pleated skirts. Blokes in frocks, everywhere you look.
Exhibit B: Warriors of the World
Now, Your Lordship, consider the world’s warriors. Indeed, you yourself come from a long line of skirted warriors, do you not? Scottish Highlanders storming into battle wearing kilts. That’s a skirt. Braveheart? Less about the war, more about the freedom to accessorise with tartan. Then there are the Romans again: their soldiers wore short tunics, suspiciously like miniskirts. They conquered half the known world while flashing a bit of bum-cheek, pardon me Mi’Lord, …whilst displaying a flash of errant thigh.
Then there are The Knights Templar. Long white robes with giant red crosses. Basically, medieval nighties. And they terrified people. Imagine being conquered by a crusader in what looks like a hospital gown cosplay. The Maasai of East Africa wear the shúkà, a wrap of vibrant red cloth. Elegant, powerful, frocked-up, Your Worship.
And what about the Japanese samurai with their hakama? Nothing says Ima kara kubi o kiru zo (今から首を切るぞ) ‘I’m about to decapitate you’ while looking like you’ve just walked off a Paris fashion show runway.
Exhibit C: Religions of the World: Frock Central
Religion may be the world’s largest frock convention. Catholic priests in cassocks, bishops in mitres (or holy dunce caps as I’ve heard them described) and embroidered robes. The Pope? The undisputed heavyweight champion of frockery. Hats taller than toddlers, gold trim glinting under Vatican lights. The Archbishop of Canterbury? Regional manager of frocks there, definitely auditioning for Britain’s Next Top Holy Traffic Cone in a frock!
Orthodox priests. Floor-length black gowns, swishing about in the midst of all the bells and smells with more drama than a Shakespearean cast performing the forbidden-to-be-named-aloud Scottish play.
Buddhist monks, Hindu sadhus, Druids. Draped, robed, saffroned, or moonlit in white. Combine all of them in one room and you’d swear you stumbled into Italy’s Pitti Uomo: The Eternal Collection.
Exhibit D: Kings, Queens and Aristocrats: Frock Royalty by Any Other Name
Seventeenth- and eighteenth-century French aristocrats: drag queens with power. Louis XIV, the Sun King, looking like RuPaul’s personal stylist went rogue. Wigs, powder, lace, high heels.
British judges, pardon me Your Lordship, are still wearing wigs and gowns. The law, still comparable to Monty Python in serious voices.
And what about Graduation ceremonies? Hogwarts cosplay for everyone.
Coronation robes. Velvet, ermine, crowns, but the frocks steal the show every time.
Exhibit E: The Accidental Frocks of Modern Life
Hospital gowns, bathrobes, the Snuggie – all examples of modern accidental frocks. Boxers, wrestlers, MMA fighters entering the ring - in the blue corner – in sequinned robes. Ric Flair, Hulk Hogan, Mike Tyson, all frocked up, intimidating, yet undeniably fabulous. Nothing says ‘fear me’ like arriving for a fight in silk and sequins.
Exhibit F: The World of Entertainment and Comedy
Your Eminence, let us consider the British pantomime. The Dame is usually a bloke in an over-the-top frock bellowing jokes and egging the audience on to ever more excited ‘oh, yes he is’ to his ‘oh, no he’s not banter!’
Monty Python. Half the sketches are men in dresses shrieking things like ‘No! He's not the Messiah. He's a very naughty boy!’
The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Tim Curry as Dr Frank-N-Furter is the Shakespeare of fishnets.
And Hollywood loves it: Robin Williams is the amazing Mrs Doubtfire, Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie, not to forget Jack Lemmon, Tyler Perry, Eddie Murphy, all performing genders like a theatrical Olympics, each frock a gold medal in comedic mastery.
And, of course, we must mention Australia’s own Dame Edna Everage. From average suburban Melbourne housewife to the glitz and glamour of Royal Command performances at London’s Albert Hall. Barry Humphries, adorned in purple hair, rhinestones, and razor-sharp wit, proved that a bloke in a frock could dominate comedy stages, television, and the hearts of millions for decades.
Music. David Bowie, Kurt Cobain, Prince, Harry Styles. If you haven’t worn a frock at least once, are you even a rock star?
Exhibit G: Fashion and the Normalisation of the Frock
At Paris Fashion Week and at Florence’s Pitti Uomo: men in skirts. Jean-Paul Gaultier, Marc Jacobs, Thom Browne, frocking constantly. Conor McGregor wore a kilt, bagpipes in hand, teeth intact, and still KOed the opposition.
Half of the Pacific and South-East Asia wear sarongs daily, and civilisation hasn’t collapsed yet. Fabric is tied, untied, admired, and life moves on.
Exhibit H: The Everyday Bloke in a Frock
The point, Your Worship, is that frocks are everywhere. Every culture, class, and continent. From Moses to McGregor, Aristotle to Eddie Izzard, Braveheart to bathrobe. And the scandal? Pretending this is new, shocking, or dangerous. Mi’Lord, it is not. History is laughing at us from behind its flowing robes and frocks.
Closing Argument: From Satire to Reality
Your Emminent, Hoity-Toity Lordship, for all this glorious history of frocks, one might think society would simply shrug and go on with its day-to-day. A ‘bloke in a frock’ has been, and continues to be, an historical constant, theatrical flourish, sartorial choice. But recently, in New South Wales, Australia – a nation whose Constitution is still so young the ink has barely dried – the courts would have us believe that centuries of culture do not inoculate a phrase from scrutiny. Kirralie Smith, for noting biological males are men, was found guilty of unlawful vilification – hate speech – by Deputy Chief Magistrate Sharon Freund. Simple observations, once humorous turns of phrase, are now, apparently, matters for legal judgment. We’ll leave the Victorian Premier Dictator Dan’s handing of the Covid 19 lockdown regime for another day, but hasn’t there been enough authoritarian overreach into the lives of the Australian citizenry?
Reality Check: Absurdity in Context
Mi’Lord history, humour, and the law have dramatically collided in what can only be described as baffling nonsensical wokery in the judgement handed down against my client. The same world tolerating emperors in togas, Scottish warriors in kilts, Monty Python in dresses and fake bosoms, even the Emperor’s New Clothes now gets to weigh in on a social media post. Context matters. Culture collides with the law in ways that are, quite literally, surreal.
What About Freedom of Speech?
Beneath frocks, jokes, and theatricality, the New South Wales court case cuts deeper: this was not a debate about men in women’s sports. But that’s what it should have been about – a case about a man born with the usual male tackle between his legs, who insists on prancing about in a frock and playing where he doesn’t belong.
To clarify: this court case and its incredible judgment was an absolute travesty. A full-frontal attack on freedom of speech. The defendant, Kirralie Smith, took a very Aussie, colloquial shot, simply observing biological reality, stating a most obvious and clear truth: these are blokes in frocks, and that’s fine – they are allowed to be. But there is no place for them on women’s sports fields. She was viciously penalised for stating her valid opinion.
The Monkeys have taken over the zoo, Your Lordship. Overturn this insane, egregious ruling. The legal system, under the guise of civility, stifles public discourse. In her ruling, the Deputy Chief Magistrate displayed what can only be described as hateful behaviour toward the defendant, policing words rather than addressing where genuine harm is being done. This ruling upholds a woke, namby-pamby stance that satire, commentary, even blunt opinion, can be legally censured if it offends one of the more fragile humans perceived sensibilities. Australia, embarrassingly lags behind the global movement away from Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) overreach. It shows how easily speech is being curtailed, leaving truth and debate at risk.
After centuries of men in dresses (blokes in frocks), kilts, togas, cassocks and Snuggies, history’s lessons in levity still clash violently with nonsensical liberal legal wokery.
Freedom of speech, which is the lifeblood of satire, dissent, and cultural dialogue, is endangered by those meant to protect it. The most absurd reality is not about calling someone a bloke in a frock, but that speaking plainly, even irreverently, in public debate is treated as a crime. The truth, the facts, are not moveable goalposts and deserve to linger long after the laughter fades.
Mr Bean, Blackadder: Rowan Atkinson on Free Speech
In the words of comic royalty, Rowan Atkinson:
"The strongest weapon against hateful speech is not repression, it is more speech."
Atkinson’s advocacy underscores the importance of robust dialogue and the right to offend as essential components of a free society. It highlights, with elegant clarity, the absurdity of the New South Wales court’s decision. Attempting to police speech under the guise of civility risks silencing truth, satire, and the very commentary that keeps society honest — journalism itself.
In the end, history shows us that men in dresses are nothing new. What is new, and deeply troubling, is a society that punishes speech for merely describing that historical, cultural, and theatrical fact. Satire, commentary, and even blunt opinion are vital to a healthy democracy.
No 'bloke in a frock,' no court ruling, and no DEI department should be allowed to take that away. And so, Mi’Lord, as we rise from the theatre of absurdity that has been this courtroom, let us remember: defending the right to speak plainly, to laugh, to comment, even irreverently, or to state a global majority position for a cause – that there is no place in women’s sports for biological men - in this case, 'blokes in frocks' on a women's soccer field – is not just a defence of freedom. It is, in fact, a defence of civilisation itself, one bloke in a frock at a time.
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Angelino Schintu is a veteran journalist, broadcaster, and filmmaker based in Japan. He is Editor-in-Chief of The Fushigi Times — an independent Slow Media platform offering bold, reality-grounded perspectives on global affairs, cultural explorations, and creative thought.
