Women didn’t fight for shit. A very small group of distinctly uncommon, always hated women fought for something that the masses of women benefited from, exploited, exhausted, neglected, mocked, vilified, attacked, idealized never needing, fantasized about surrendering, lost, and then blinked their teary little eyes, flabbergasted, dumbfounded, appalled, and the like at how they could possibly have lost it when they did the good moral work of privileging pretty thoughts over material reality and actively worked to brand their liberators and staunchest advocates as persona non grata at best all while brushing their hair out to wash the feet of their oppressor. These women were abnormal. The destruction of these abnormal women’s work is always simply a return to normal. But every so often a mass of abnormal women resurface, and repeat ad nauseam until the heat death of the fucking universe.
The majority of women are parasites of female liberation. The average woman is a parasite of female liberation. She gives nothing. But oh she takes. and she takes, and she takes, and she takes until there’s nothing but the papery shell of the host, and when there’s nothing left, she forgets she ate.