It’s Smash the Patriarchy Season, Motherfuckers.

Every year around this time, I post Colin Nissan’s brilliant humor piece, It’s Decorative Gourd Season, Motherfuckers on Facebook. If you haven’t ever read it, get thee to McSweeney’s now and read it. It’s one of the best freaking things on the Internet.  I posted it on FB a few days ago, per seasonal tradition. I’m ready for Fall. But I’m also mad as hell about what’s going on in Washington right now. Watching the senate hearing for Brett Kavanaugh, where Christine Blasey Ford gave her gut-wrenching testimony and then Brett Kavanaugh proceeded to rant, prevaricate and evade questioning made me feel physically sick — as I know it did a lot of people. And so I was inspired to write about the OTHER season I’m ready for, in the vein of motherfucking gourds — with apologies and endless respect to Colin Nissan.

Update: Get your Smash the Patriarchy Season schwag here! Proceeds benefit Emily’s List. 

 

It’s smash the patriarchy season, motherfuckers.

I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get my hands on some motherfucking misogynistic, abusive men and stuff them into a horn-shaped basket on my dining room table. That shit is going to look so seasonal. 

I’m about to head up to the attic right now to find that wicker fucker, dust it off, and jam it with the dried-out husks of septuagenarian, white male senators. When my guests come over it’s gonna be like, BLAMMO! Check out my end to government preservation of the male-dominated status quo, assholes. Guess what season it is—fucking time for women to assume fully equal status with men. 

There’s rage in the air and the house is full of men who vote to restrict women’s reproductive rights, about to be rammed head first into a horn of plenty. I may even throw some binge-drinking, date-rapey frat boys into the mix, all haphazard like the collective anger of every woman in the nation blew through fucked that shit up.

Then I’m going to get to work on making a beautiful fucking necklace for myself, made of the skulls of long-dead men who denied women the right to vote, own property or pursue lives and careers of their choosing. People are going to be like, “Aren’t those remnants of an ancient, paternalistic order straining your neck?” And I’m just going to thread another skull onto my necklace without breaking their gaze and quietly reply, “It’s time to smash the patriarchy, fuckfaces. You’re either ready to join this freaky-assed revolution or you’re not.”

Voting out legislators that enable men who brag about grabbing women by the pussy sounds like a pretty fitting way to ring in the season. You know what else does? Directing an all-female reenactment of an episode of Facts of Life — specifically the one when Natalie withdraws from her life after an attempted sexual assault. Well, this shit just got real, didn’t it? Rape culture and entrenched male power have one very important commonality: they’re both extremely fucking real. Sorry if that’s upsetting, but I’m not doing you any favors by shielding you from this anymore.

The next thing I’m going to do is make a bonfire out of the boxer shorts of men who refuse to believe the claims of women who have been sexually assaulted, and watch it burn over a glass or six of rosé with my female friends. Why? Because it’s not summer, it’s not winter, and it’s not spring. Grab a calendar and pull your fucking heads out of your asses; it’s the season of smashing the patriarchy, fuckers.

Have you ever been in a boardroom where there are an equal number of women and men? Well then you’re going to fucking love my house. Just look where you’re walking or you’ll get KO’d by the gauntlet of highly qualified women who have been sexually harassed or passed over for promotions in favor of less qualified men who happen to golf with upper management. And when you do, you’re going to hear a very loud, very stereotypical, pointy-hatted witch cackle coming from me. Consider yourself warned.

For now, all I plan to do is to throw on whatever I goddamned please and stand out on the street and release a scream that embodies the pent-up fury of generations of women before me. The first man who tells me to smile is going to get his ass bitch-slapped all the way back to the 17^thcentury. 

Welcome to annihilation of the patriarchy, fuckheads!

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UPDATE: Get your Smash the Patriarchy Season schwag here! Proceeds benefit Emily’s List.