I really adore it when some stupid little woman-hater is straining his meager excuse for a brain to come up with a defense for his hatred of women. Instead of confessing (at least to himself) that he is a stupid and ugly little prick of a person who hates women because he is wildly irrelevant and massively unsuccessful, such a creature always – and I mean every single time – invents some fictitious feminist who has seen the evil of her anti-man ways and has repented. Alas, the repentance has come too late and fate has caught up with her.
Such narratives from woman-haters of all ilks and genders abound. There are imaginary women who made brilliant careers but then realized that the bugbear of feminism has robbed them of the joy of being kept by and condescended to by some equally imaginary man. There are fictitious women who chased after careers and were left lonely and pining for husbands and babies. (Note how we never hear about any men whose huge professional and financial success made them sad and lonely. That happens because all women are whores, obviously.) There are also all those feminist mothers whose daughters damn them for destroying their lives by not letting them wear pink. And there are feminist mothers who somehow demolish the existence of their sons by being – oh, horror! – college professors and even – a greater horror! – the bad F word.
Here is the most recent example of such a story concocted by a fool du jour who is bothered by the existence of feminism:
Closer to home, I have listened to a feminist friend talk with concern about her only child, a son in his early 30s, who has struggled with work and relationships. In her own work, as a professor in the humanities, she has seen her classes dominated by young women, not only in numbers but in participation and academic performance.
“Why do you think this is happening,” I asked her, referring to her classes.
She replied without hesitation, “It’s the women’s movement.”
I know she is worried about her son, but, as I have seen so many times when parents talk about the problems their sons are having, she sees it as an individual problem, not as a social one. I am sure it is hard for her to accept the possibility that the feminism she so strongly believes in might have, by ignoring boys, allowed a progressively more unbalanced situation to develop, one in which her son is caught up.
Tons of literature on why female students choose to Major in Humanities instead of Sciences exists (a small hint: it has nothing to do with the victory of feminism but a lot to do with its failures.) The brainless loser who authored this piece doesn’t need to read the massive research on the subject, however. He has found his answer: feminism is to blame. He has no idea why or how but one thing he knows for sure. If the weather is bad, money is tight and he is miserable, some feminist somewhere must certainly be to blame. Because an imaginary feminist in his head told him so.