“Down with the patriarchy!” she posts on a social media platform invented by a man, using the computer developed by men, powered by electricity possible through a vast infrastructural system designed by men, built, and maintained on the back of men and through the blood and sweat of men. She sips her herbal tea, growing angrier by the minute.
“Men only care about themselves. Who needs them anyway?!” she muses, as she lounges in her college dorm room in a building built by men, in her final semester studying “Gender and Sexuality Studies,” her $55,000 per year tuition being paid for by her father — a man. She gets up to go to the corner store to buy some lip gloss at 1 AM at night.
“Patriarchy is just about perpetuating rape culture!” she thinks, as she walks alone in the middle of the deserted street that is brightly lit due to street lamps installed by men, in a neighborhood that is completely safe because of a massive police presence ready to use deadly force at a moment’s notice, a police presence consisting of men. She buys the lip gloss and heads back to the dorm.
“Toxic masculinity is the worst,” she sighs, as she tosses the lip gloss packaging into the trash, the trash that is collected and disposed of by men in landfills maintained by men as part of a massive network of utilities and services provided by men, in a country that is defended from the possibility of foreign invasion because of an army of men willing to die for the protection of the nation’s interests, including its women and children. She applies the lip gloss and picks up her $800 iPhone for a selfie.
“Things would be soo much better if women ruled the world,” she smiles contentedly, as she posts her selfie to Instagram, hoping that that rich, smart, good-looking guy in her network of friends will notice and show interest in her, maybe send her a flirty message, maybe one thing leads to another, maybe he sweeps her off her feet, but in a way that totally respects her independence and her lack of need for men in any way, shape, or form. Instead, that “ugly” guy who drives an old Camry DMs her, asking if she is interested in going out.
“OH MY GOD, what is this creep doing, trying to get in my DMs, pushing himself on me?!” she sneers, as she hastily prepares a #metoo social media post about sexual harassment, male privilege, and perpetual female victimhood, once again typing angrily on a $3000 laptop developed and paid for by men. She decides to go to bed. She closes her eyes, but she is seething with rage. She tosses and turns, hatred keeping her up later into the night. Finally, she dozes off as one last thought crosses her tortured mind: “Men are trash!”