Then, suddenly, like a herd of silken-maned pink ponies galloping toward me in the distant horizon across great barren salt flats that have been scorched in the war between the sexes, comes a fledgling mini-movement calling itself “Women Against Feminism” to give me a fleeting, and perhaps ultimately false, sense of hope for the future of gender relations.
“It is no coincidence that modern feminists embody all of the character traits that cause ‘misogyny’ in the first place.”Granted, they ape the same banal sort of “placard selfie activism” that infects much of modern online social-justice inanity these days, but I can overlook that for the sake of the message these gals hold on their little handwritten posters:
“I don’t need feminism because…I’m tired to be, as a woman, represented by some hysterical hipster whores.”
“I don’t need feminism because I can hold my own beliefs without an army of angry vaginas backing me.”
