Pop quiz vis-á-vis the ethics of the sharing of ideologically cultivated information and ideas on public platforms accessible to minors.

The original question went as follows: What's more valid, trans cuties or the state of Israel?

Typing the words out I already begin to sense, by the spiritual connection that binds every wanderer of our little coterie, the energy of good faith, brotherly, intellectually honest debate being roused in each of your rugged yet still supple fingers. But in the interest of achieving the most vigorous intellectual stimulation, as would be suggested by the jewish tradition of regular mental exercise via talmudic as well as other philosophical and mathematical brain teasers, I would like to turn the moral complexity of the question up a notch.

Say an individual trans cutie, let's give her a name to make her more empathetic rather than an abstract entity, Eleanor. Say Eleanor, upon the dawn of her 14th birthday, woke up with such a sense of dread, brought on by the psychological toll of reflecting on all the masculinising changes that her still medically untreated mismatched biology had struck her with over the course of the last year, that she actually threw up as soon as she caught her reflection in the mirror while trying to brush her teeth. She approached her mom, telling her than she felt too unwell to go to school today, to no contention by the mother who couldn't help but notice the paleness as well as the lethargic, almost defeated expression on her face, which was beginning to show signs of a moustache (moustache pronounced with a slightly French accent: moo-stashe).

In contrast to the fun, lavish birthdays enjoyed by the other girls in her class, she was now to spend the day home alone in her room, which she without being aware had decorated in such a repressed, unexpressive way that it would be virtually impossible for any stranger to discern the gender identity of the inhabitant. Lying in her bed, surfing the internet in her subconscious attempt to distract from her dysphoric thoughts, she stumbled upon some funny pages. The content posted on there by various anonymous people, the philosophy and sense of humour embodying each sentence, it reached out of her screen, grabbed her, clung on to her as if they were crafted in a laboratory by the worlds leading experts specifically to entice her.

This place is best described as an escape from life, from moral complexity and empathy, from the hardship of love for thy neighbour. A dimension that you enter without any prior attachments following you. Some would describe its state as being engulfed in layers of irony whose lines are so blurred that there exists no ground of unsmudged sincerity to stand on, but that's not precisely right. Its overt intentions are not particularly confused or difficult to comprehend, but rather it is the fact that they are, though many members might try to argue to the contrary, the most atheistic people you can find anywhere on the planet. They practice the worship of anti worship, the renunciation of the miserable and awkward quotidian struggles that in other people compounds to form their humanity, for all its imperfections.

After what seemed to her like hardly any time at all of reading, but was in reality over 9 hours, her mother knocked at her door asking if she was well enough for cake and song with the family. She felt no particular desire to be with her family, she just wanted to stay in this little world of detached safety, but figured she ought to, that it would be the proper thing to do.

As she left her room to join her family, all sitting around the dinner table lovingly waiting for her, their warmth and affection shocked her body which had become so cool and distant from the careless self medication that had consumed most of her day that she almost broke into cathartic tears that had been building up for years. Of course she wouldn't want her family, her father, seeing their boy cry like that, so she did her best to keep her cool. During the proceeding small talk, she reassured herself that she would not visit that place again, she would not engage those spiritually self destructive thought patterns again. She would wear her heart on her sleeve, and face the world with bravery, honesty and kindness. That was the kind of person she wanted to be, and she know she was strong enough to be.

Then they started singing. "Happy birthday dear (deadname), happy birthday to you!". She couldn't help reacquiring the defeated expression she had worn this morning, she couldn't muster the energy to even try shaking it off.

It was 5 years later, on her 19th birthday that she finally admitted to herself that she was living a lie, that her hairy, large framed body made her sick to her stomach, that deep down her impulse was to rip all this grotesque flesh and burn it, throw it in the ocean, or anything that would get it out of her sight and mind never to return.

As a consequence of her tortured, dysphoric adolescence, her life had taken one bad turn after another, her relationship with her family ruined, or with anyone that was a positive influence in her life for that matter. Her financial prospects laughable. Living in the US where basic human rights such as gender affirming hormone therapy and surgery were up to the individual to finance themselves, she felt hopeless. Her online research of trans resources had led her to conclude that her only option was to prostitute herself, or at least selling fart porn on onlyfans. Of course that would only be viable after she had transitioned, so she would have to take out a loan. And naturally given her situation and prospects she could only manage to acquire a loan of the poorest imaginable conditions. And as it just so happened, the person to whom she was indebted was of a Semitic ethnic origin, a dual citizen of the US, born in Israel, with family as well as financial ties there, meaning that his financial well being contributed to the well being of the Israeli economy and state.

So the question is as follows: In light of the full context of the story, how should the financial obligation be redistributed, if at all, between (A) Eleanor, (B) The Semitic money lender, and (C) the individuals in charge of moderating the psychologically and spiritually destructive internet community that had victimised Eleanor.