I’ve talked some smack about third-wave feminism, but my relationship to first- and second-wave feminism is a bit ambiguous. On one hand, as few people should vote as possible (ideally, just me). On the other hand, women who grew up before women’s rights have no sense of personal responsibility. Which is a double-edged sword: people with no sense of personal responsibility are annoying as hell, but in a way they make great citizens.
Take my mother. Everything that ever happened to her is either her parents’ fault, my father’s fault, or, Christ almighty, some of it was even my fault for having been born. As an artifact of pre-feminist females, she doesn’t really advertise the position well. But by and large, back then, the myth of male power was alive and well, and for most people it was a source of comfort: women lived under the comforting delusion that men had power and were going to take care of them and make all the decisions, and that gave some form and meaning to their lives. This fed back into men, who found meaning in the fact that women thought they had power, and they had someone to take care of. Completely fucking delusional, but it was a sweet delusion.
The second wave of feminism must have been quite the fucking relief for men. Suddenly they no longer had to deal with creatures who thought they had no free will. Suddenly the other half of humanity woke up from its million-year-sleep and realized it had choices to make.
And those women became Generation X, and wandered around in white pancake makeup listening to the Cure and low-level crying all day, because as it turns out, humanity and free will don’t mix so well. Waking up to life means waking up to the HORROR of life, to the void. Having the entire species wake up at once means facing things.
We are all going to die, god is dead, Generation X wasn’t really that great of a band, and David Bowie kind of sucked in the 80s. Etc.
When men my age were going through their youthful existential crisis, doing drugs at 21—when they rolled across the pillow to ask us for comfort and a return to illusion—we said, “Nope. You’re right, honey. Nothing means anything.”
Having an equal partner is overrated.
Truth hurts everyone, at least from an evolutionary standpoint.
A species that is mortal and conscious of it has to live in delusion and lies. Not blatant ones that are insulting; they need to be just lie-y enough.
Fortunately for the mega-organism, it was at this point that feminism did a 180 and went back to convincing women that they had no free will. That even though dad, your boyfriend, men in general, Societeeeee, etc, had no RIGHT to control your every thought and decision, they were always going to control it anyway! We have to keep fighting male power because it isn’t dead yet! It’s never dead; it will be alive as long as a Women’s Studies professor is there to need a paycheck.
And so the millennial women were carefully taught to hand over their lives to a Power once again, surrendering their free will on the altar of immovible male potency.
Never mind the fact that men are puny humans too, and they’re going to die, etc.
And look at em, breeding like rats again.
They sure are annoying, with their blaming everyone else, but at least they’ll keep this half-sleepwalking cunt of a species alive.
They’ve gone back to the exact same myth of male power, except now instead of finding comfort in it to give their lives meaning, they glean meaning from making it an evil thing to battle. Instead of a comforting delusion, they have an angering delusion; but anger does provide the comfort of being addictive, after all, and it’s better than no delusions at all.
In a couple of decades my kind will have died off, and we’ll all forget this little experiment in wakefulness during the nightmare occurred.
Yes, men are all-powerful, honey. It sucks. It answers everything. Go collect a welfare check. Go hit Daddy in the face with an ax. It’s OK, he’s old anyway, just make sure you fuck without a condom, because condoms are tools of the patriarchy. Your womb is power. Shhhhhh, it’s all OK. There are answers. You don’t have to decide anything. Go back to sleep. Shhhhhh.