I’ve posted before about curing feminism. I suggested we men form a company designed to kidnap and ship feminists to the wilds of Afghanistan where we’d secretly monitor them (to keep them from coming to any real harm) for a matter of months. Being extracted from the conveniences of modern society, which in many cases is designed to perpetuate the myth of equality and artificially catapult the feminist to levels of power she would never attain on her own, she would eventually learn to submit; not to any particular man mind you, but to the feminine spirit itself.
All joking aside however, I’m convinced that physical opposition is one of the only ways to cure the feminist (short of a direct heart-changing miracle from God).
Let’s take a step back for a moment to see how tragic this situation really is. When I direct my ire at “the feminist”, modern women will likely read it and cheer along. A feminist, in their mind, is some skin-headed, flannel-wearing, lesbian, who wears combat boots and burns bras. They don’t realize that they, themselves, are likely feminists. I’ve experienced this phenomenon time and again: the loud-mouthed “girl-power” Republican woman is swearing and acting belligerent in public, forcefully debating men, and is always quick to challenge a man in any trial. If it’s suggested in her presence that this or that color is a “girl’s color” or that this or that sort of gun is a “girl’s gun” … or any of that sort of language … she’s immediately set off, becomes defensive, and gets belligerent.
She is a neo-feminist and doesn’t even realize it.
But here’s the tragedy of it all:
Government schools and popular culture, along with the support of all governing authorities including the church, have combined to create a formidable machine designed to, among other things, systematically “break” girls. By “break” I mean: damage them. To maim them. To corrupt their passions from true femininity towards the brutal notion of masculine equality.
I imagine a slaughter house for chickens (appropriate since modern hipsters call women “chicks”). Young girls are lumped by the thousands onto cold conveyor belts and wound through a labyrinth of horrifying tunnels, where they’re eventually dumped into a slaughter bin called “higher education”. They simmer and cure until they’re processed and sent out of the factory, plucked and fully-feminist. Ready for consumption.
And oh how short and miserable their lives will be.
Which brings me back to the notion of their cure:
I pray these women find husbands who will beat the literal hell out of them. That’s the only way they’ll have a chance at happiness. You see, when so treated, they’ll have two options. They either give up their indoctrination and submit to being women, or they continue to rebel as their mother Eve did in the Garden. They’ll get the police involved, run to the open arms of other feminists in battered-women’s shelters, and have long cries with their girl-power club.
Find a man that would beat a woman for the right reasons in today’s world though? Better off looking for gold at the end of rainbows. There are plenty of cowardly, weak men who would abuse women (or children, or animals, or even inanimate objects) out of selfish hatred, self-pity (or some other sinful disposition). But few, if any at all, would be willing to beat their feminist wives as a method of strong-armed discipleship. So it’s unlikely the feminist can be rescued this way.
I’ll never be the CEO of a multimillion dollar company payed by husbands around the world to kidnap their feminist wives and send them for tours in Afghanistan. And feminists will likely never find husbands with enough foresight to beat them into submission.
Instead, what will happen (and what does happen every day) is these unhappy creatures party life away trying to earn “careers” on the plantation while thinking, in the backs of their minds, they’ll have a baby once they’ve become successful. Then they hit age 30 (or so), discover they’re not as successful as they want, have no marriage prospects, and now their doctor is telling them they have a limited amount of time left to have children.
So they search for some weak-willed man, who by this time in his life is so lonely and desperate for sex he’ll put up with a feminist witch just to appease his baser nature, and the two are married. They spend the rest of their lives in a state of misery.
If they happen to bring children into the world, then the feminist witch mother who has not submitted, never will, and yet, cannot figure out why she’s so miserable, fills her daughter’s head with the same nonsense. She ships her off to the slaughter house and the cycle begins all over again.
This has to end.
Anyone know how to fly a C-130, and are you interested in starting a company with me?