On Saturday, thousands of ladies in vagina hats descended upon DC to demand more dead babies.
They demanded other things, too, like free birth control and free tampons and a free Palestine. They demanded equal rights, even though they already have equal rights. They demanded that the wage gap be closed, even though the wage gap is a fabrication. And they demanded that the government “get out of their uterus,” even though the government was never — and, really, for logistical reasons never could be — in their uterus.
The march was an eclectic mix of non sequiturs and falsehoods. Every aspect of feminist mythology was represented in one way or another. But unlimited access to abortion was the theme that tied it all together. Before the march even began, abortion on demand had been proclaimed an essential “unity principle” of the so-called “Women’s March.” They were so serious about this principle that pro-life groups were barred from participating. It’s fair to say that once a political demonstration cites baby murder as a fundamental value, nothing else it stands for really matters. I cannot take a march seriously after it has professed an affinity for child killing just as I cannot willingly consume your homemade chocolate cake after you inform me that fecal matter is one of its ingredients.
But I’m not sure that I could have taken the march seriously even if continuing the mass slaughter of children hadn’t been named as one of its fundamental goals. It’s hard to take people seriously when they’re all wearing genitalia-themed beanies, after all. It’s even more difficult when they’ve adorned themselves in vagina masks, and full vagina costumes, and are carrying vagina signs, including some grossly explicit and some casually sacrilegious. But please don’t think that it was only a bunch of vaginas walking around. Penises were sometimes represented in the signage and the outfits as well, though usually with a derisive tone. Feminists, as you’ve noticed, are rather obsessed with genitals. That’s why they can’t get together for any kind of event without half of them showing up dressed as their own reproductive organs.
The speakers who addressed the vagina-clad hordes were as inspiring as you’d imagine. One of them came on stage in a dress with the word “abortion” scrawled across it in huge, proud letters (did I mention that these ladies REALLY love abortion?). Cecile Richards, Planned Parenthood CEO and the most prolific mass murder in the world, spoke before the adoring throngs and courageously resolved to go on killing babies no matter what obstacles are put in her way. Refusing to be outdone, Madonna stood behind the podium and, to the sound of applause, openly fantasized about blowing up the White House. The most esteemed speaker of the afternoon, former actress Ashley Judd, refused to be overshadowed by any of them. In a bold attempt to be the craziest person in Washington that day, Judd let loose with a bit of feminist slam poetry that included this line:
“I am not as nasty as your own daughter being your favorite sex symbol, like your wet dreams infused with your own genes.”
After the march was over, the environmentally-conscious feminists just dumped their signs right in the middle of the road for some blue collar Trump voter to clean up. Then they went back to their hotels and drunkenly assaulted random bystanders. You know, because peace and love, etc.
News anchors and journalists were in a state of near ecstasy over the whole spectacle. They stammered about how “historic” it all was (everything liberals do is historic, by the way), declaring that the world had never seen anything quite like this. That’s true, actually. There have been many marches in DC — bigger marches, like the March For Life — but the March For Life has never featured so many (or any) participants wearing vagina hats, nor have any of their speakers ever threatened to blow up the White House or accused the president of wanting to rape his daughter. In that sense — in the most revolting, shameful, and utterly humiliating sense — the “Women’s March” was truly unprecedented.
When all was said and done, normal human beings were left once again feeling embarrassed to be members of the human race (a sensation I experience with increasing regularity these days). And I say this only as a man. I can only imagine how ashamed I would be if I were a woman. Indeed, I feel bad for the many awesome women in my life whenever I see a profane mob of self-obsessed feminists hogging the spotlight like they did on Saturday. The women I know and love don’t deserve to be represented like that. To attach the qualifier “women’s” to such an asinine display is an insult to the decent, dignified women (the majority, I should add) who would literally rather die than put on a vagina costume and march through the streets chanting for more abortions.
Imagine if a massive crowd of men had staged a “Men’s March” similar in style and substance, with thousands of angry dudes in testicle hats demanding free porn and Viagra, insisting on the right to murder those most inconvenient to them, and protesting against injustices that they invented in their heads that morning. I expect the reaction to such a demonstration would be quite different from the exorbitant praise these women received. Feminists would especially condemn it, but they would also eagerly use it to cast aspersions on all men. They would declare that the “Men’s March,” vile as it was, did succeed in accurately portraying the true “toxic” nature of masculinity. They would damn not only the march but men in general, just as they always do. The only difference is that, in this case, they’d have some legitimate ammunition for a change.
I take the opposite approach with the “Women’s March,” as should we all. I am quite confident that the “Women’s March” was nowhere close to an accurate representation of most women. It didn’t deserve to call itself a “Women’s March” because those people were not marching in support of anything so universal as “Women.” Abortion, free birth control, a subsidized sex life — these are not the demands of mature, adult ladies. Selfishness, brutality, vulgarity, dishonesty — these are not feminine qualities. Women can certainly possess those qualities just like men, but they do so at the expense of their femininity. It is simply impossible for a group of women to celebrate womanhood or stand for womanhood or march for womanhood while they advocate for murder and shout about their vaginas like drunken perverts.
This was not the Women’s March but the Those Women March. A woman doesn’t act on behalf of Women when she carries on like that. She acts only on behalf of herself. That, after all, is the whole point of modern feminism. It rejects all that is inherently kind, giving, compassionate, sacrificial, and loving in womanhood, encouraging women to live only for themselves instead — even if blood must be shed in the process. In a similar way, modern society tells men to reject all that is selfless, protective, generous, and strong in manhood, living only for ourselves instead — even if we must betray our families and abandon our children in the process. What we saw at the march was just our culture’s vision of what a woman should be. Obviously, a certain number of women have bought into the lie. But it is a lie all the same. We should remember that.
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