Feminism as a project is dead.
A lot of thirty-something through fifty-something women out there flailing around manaically, rabidly foaming at the mouth at nothing in particular because despite having “won” every “battle” they ever set out to win, they find themselves largely at the same point at which they started: unfulfilled and somehow deeply insecure about being women, feeling small in the face of the universe and mistakenly believing that it is because women have somehow “lost” something to or because of men.
Not true. There is nothing inherently wrong or less powerful about the position of being a woman. The hollowness and lack of fulfillment you feel are not the result of being a woman in a man’s world. Your lack of empowerment is not the result of a patriarchal society. I know you’re positive — absolutely positive — that this is the case. You’re sure that I just don’t know because I’m a man and am therefore not subject to all of the same unique and sublime tragedies and miseries of womanhood, that I am a king living on my throne, built on your backs and intended to reign for a thousand years over the hapless bodies of the female slaveity.
No. Though you won’t believe me, I am unyieldingly comfortable in the assertion that the hollowness and lack of fulfillment you feel is the result of being alive in a modern, godless universe. How are women so naive as to think that death, taxes, emptiness and war are the result of male impulses alone? Where do they get the notion that men are somehow powerful enough to have overcome all these themselves, happy instead to foist them on the unsuspecting female component of the population simply in the interest of amusement?
The feminists (stupidly) wanted jobs. Well they got them. They actively fought their way into a repressive, dehumanizing economy only to find (shock of shocks) that they felt as repressed and dehumanized as working men always have. Then they ceded parenthood, convinced that it was the lack of a biological imperative to reproduce and bear young that gave men the transcendent power that women (mistakenly) attribute to us. They got what they wanted — less family, no children, no relationship responsibilities — only to find (shocked somehow once again) that they now felt as alone as men always have. Over and over modern women have rejected the priveleged esteem in which men once held them. They have rejected it in its entirety and have fought determinedly to live like men — and now in their astonishment at the unhappiness of such an existence, they assert wildly that we are lying to them about what it means to be us, because for all those decades they were sure that we lived like drunken monarchs, yet now, living as men they simply feel like isolated paupers. And so it is that now it’s not at all clear what women want; they have no idea what sacred cow to fight next, having killed nearly all of them and felt ever worse, rather than ever better. They begin to simply descend into a diatribe on the desire to dominate, or even to eliminate, the choices and lives of men in general.
No feminist will believe me, but I can say with confidence already that once the last man has been killed or put into the grave — once you have spitefully eliminated us all and the world is full of nothing but a sisterhood of wiccan earth mother overcompensating females — there will still be death, taxes, emptiness and war. Congratulations, you have discovered the Chinese puzzle of modernity fully two hundred years after the men you hate so much found themselves trapped inside it.
Yes, even without men you will still all get wrinkes and sags, and eventually rot and be eaten by worms. You will still feel unhappy about it because (yet again, shock of almighty shocks) it wasn’t the attention of or the standards of men that made you fear the loss of beauty, it was the mortality that it portends that made you quake. And yes, before you do die, you will still want the ameneties — roads, medical care, clean water, the rule of law — and you will still find yourselves fighting (only now much more brutally and vindictively, in that way that only women can) when you disagree. And like the poor, hapless men whose lives you wanted so badly, you will have no fucking idea what any of it is for.
The feminists just don’t get it: it’s not that they’re unfulfilled and scared and unhappy because they haven’t won yet. There is nothing to win. Men are also unfulfilled and scared and unhappy, perhaps even moreso now, having been repeatedly betrayed by fully half the human race. No girls, you are in for the sad shock of your lives: unfulfillment, fear, and unhappiness are simply the spoils of having been born an intelligent life form in an empty universe.
You will die.
When you do, you will not have done everything you intended.
You will not own everything you wanted.
Those things that you do own will bring you no peace.
And you will not be at peace with everyone you loved.
You will not have answers to everything, or even most things, that can be wondered.
You will not be beautiful as a corpse; you will stick and you will rot.
And even your ugly corpse will not remain for long.
This is not the law of men or the fault of men, no matter how badly you want it to be. Surprise! You, too, are human. And then you die.