So, Jax is a pastiche, right? She's Bugs Bunny. She's an irreverent wisecracker; a harbinger of perfect comedic violence who's always one step ahead of the doleful idiot she's pitted against. She's aware of the narrative, she leans into the tropes, she sees the X-mark drawn on the floor and knows to step just off it before the piano comes crashing down onto the fool she lured there.
In this, Jax is sort of an intellectual exercise: What if Bugs Bunny were a person? What if her comedic victims were people, too? And her character in The Amazing Digital Circus becomes this methodical examination of what exactly would have to be true about a person for her to become Bugs Bunny.
Why would a person be so irreverent of her circumstances? Well, put frankly, she's dissociating. She places a mental barrier between herself and her reality because engaging with reality is painful. Her wisecracking jokes serve a similar purpose: she is selling to herself the fantasy of this fiction. She can wear a mask, and be a character, and be funny! She's violent because the violence she and others experience is inherently unreal. It feels unlike real violence, and it has no obvious consequence. Like a cartoon: injuries are fleeting and impermanent; they disappear like magic from scene to scene. Leaning into this reinforces her fantasy of unreality: every gag another reminder that nothing is real. She is especially aware of circumstance and of narrative because she is terrified of unawareness being weaponized against her. So she always has her ear to the ground; always notices when things are off just before anybody else does. Then this awareness returns her in dividends: it is what allows her not to be the butt of a joke!
And you'll notice as we do this, as we peel away these layers, our Bugs Bunny indeed becomes exceptionally human. Pitifully so, even. We see the beating heart of a person who is terrified of the world, and who cannot stand to be herself within it. We see Bugs Bunny become a mask and a bludgeon. Our Person uses it to destroy and control herself; to destroy and control others. Bugs Bunny is not a person; so for a person to become Bugs Bunny, she must seek to sublimate and eradicate her personhood.
Bugs Bunny is a crossdresser. We suppose its part of his irreverent character. So disconnected from genuine personhood, he cannot even feel emasculated; or rather that his masculinity is of no importance to him. So he can dress as a woman, and fool the idiot again, and we're not asked to see Bugs Bunny being leered at and harassed as being representative of misogynistic violence. In fact: in this dichotomy, Bugs Bunny is powerful. He disarms men who blubber and fawn over a beautiful woman. Then there is violent catharsis: a punchline to the joke! Bugs Bunny is a man who emasculates other men by tricking them into being attracted to him. Then he assaults them---very literally! A gun! A smack! A falling piano! And the cards are all in his hands. He, as always, has absolute control over and awareness of the gag.
Jax, in a dress, is violently humanizing. For a moment: she's torn from her character almost completely! No longer can she be the irreverent, the wisecracker, the self-aware or the powerful. She is put into a dress despite herself. She is the joke, the emasculated. She is... 'put in her place': this humiliation is consequence. Her victims are frustrated enough with her that they orchestrate a joke to humiliate her just so, and for her it is obscenely and totalizingly humanizing. Because she cannot be Bugs Bunny. She cannot portray the surreptitious, leering dominance of the Man In A Dress. She can only be "emasculated." She can only be a person.
