Feminism, A Tragicomedy
A movement haunted by the absence of its founding antagonist— The Patriarchy. Unable to mourn stuck in repetition shadow boxing. The tragic impulse, no doubt genuine. A yearning for justice, recognition, liberation. But feminists caught in a loop spin ever more elaborate chains from A to “the Patriarchy!” Unable to confront the unbearable truth Its Master, long gone. Also a comedy. Not in the ha-ha sense (tho, sometimes that too 🤣) But its fetishistic disavowal, They know very well the Father is dead… But still how they hound him. The struggle is performative. The Fall, cynically staged. The morality play drags on— long after the curtain should’ve dropped. A tragedy that refuses to end. A comedy in denial. The Father is dead. So why do they still act like they’re under His thumb? If the Patriarchy rules, Why must they chant its name like a prayer to a god who has abandoned them? No doubt, they call the audience laughter Misogyny 😡 Rapid Onset Internalized Patriarchy 😠 Men's Rights Activism 😡 Trad wifery 😠 Rape apologia 😡 But its just 'traversing the fantasy' 🤷♀️ and laughing at Feminism's obscene underside.