Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Incoherence of the Women's March illustrates the folly of today's feminism

Gawd, but “feminism” has lost its way, hasn't it? Lots of evidence of that, of course. But surely the best we've seen for a while was the epic daftness on open display at the Women's March on Washington and similar shriekfests across America, and the globe.

Hell, even the name was, er, msleading. It was called the “Women's March”, but really the "White Liberal Feminist Anti-Trump March" woulda been more accurate.

There were quite a few testosteroids present, too -- pale ones at that! Hmm. Aren't they the eeevil oppressor-droids of the patriarchy, whom all these brave, sassy sheilas had lobbed to rail against?

Michael Moore was there, and he even seemed to emcee it for a while. Bloke does have wedding tackle, right. So how'd he score that gig? Flash his man boobs or something?

Even if you ignore these inconsistencies and accept that the event was truly for women generally, didn't this then invoke the gender binary, a big no-no in liberal circles? Also, there were all those marchers wearing vagina hats, which explicitly equated gender with biological sex. Sooo transphobic!

Then there was the fact that one of the main organizers was a sharia supporter. Perhaps it shoulda been called the “March of the Muslim Sisterhood” …

Pretty clear from all this that these days, chicks who describe themselves as “feminist” have no real clue as to what they actually want -- other than to ponce about in pussy hats, squawking incoherently about imaginary injustices, that is.

Thanks to feminism you can be a privileged white woman in the most powerful nation on Earth; a person who enjoys more freedom and opportunity, better health, pay and working conditions than the vast majority of people who have ever lived, and still be convinced you're horribly oppressed.


You've really gotta wonder, what's the appeal? I think that, among other things, feminism supplies a powerful drug for the comfortably smug. In between selfie snaps and visits to the local hairdresser, feminists find a different, more intoxicating excitement in the adolescent fantasy that they are slumming it big time, or living dangerously as rebels in a fascist state, bravely combating their soulless omnipresent oppressors with wit and grit … FFS, what a joke.

Feminism is fiction and fantasy. It's the video game A Sassy Screed; the movie Girlz n the Victim Hood.

It's no wonder then that many sad, washed up ol' Hollywood slebs lobbed at the Women's March for a show of, er, squalidarity. There was Madonna, fresh (if that's the right word) from offering blow jobs to anyone who'd vote for Hillary, bitching about Trump the lecherous barbarian.

As an expression of political support her oral offer was undeniably, er, madgenanimous. But it kinda negated her authority as a moral guide in sexual matters now didn't it?

At the march itself she said she dreamed of blowing up the White House, a kind of incitement to terror. Sure, that was bad. But I think her initial BJ offer was more worthy of Secret Service investigation. Hell, the mere thought of that is terrifying enough! Check out Drake's gag reflex. And that was just from a surprise tonguey!

Then there was Ashley Judd, who performed some crap poem chockas with bolshie cliches. She did it pretty badly, too, with a piss-poor southern accent. (Odd, because she definitely can act.)

Taking Trump's description of Hillary as a “nasty woman”, the poem repeated it like it was a good thing. But if you really look into what Hillary's been up to over the last several decades, “nasty” isn't the half of it. DJT was actually being comparatively respectful, even chivalrous, when he said that.

But in the end poor Ashley didn't come off as a nasty woman. Looked more like a spoiled, silly little girl chucking a massive tanty. Which also describes most feminists these days, let's face it.

Speaking of which, here's my poem on the state of the movement today:

Misogyny, misogyny!
It's all we look for,
All we see,
Oh where would we be without misogyny?

I reckon that sums it up pretty well, don't you?


  1. And remember: this is only the beginning!

  2. Michael Moore does look like a busted down old tart these days so he would've fit right in.