We should thank Harvey Weinstein for the tear in the patriarchy

We should probably thank Harvey Weinstein. That ripping sound you’re hearing might just be a tiny tear in the patriarchy. Tear as in laceration, although there are probably quite a few men crying fat salty ones for themselves in private, except the type of man who preys on people less powerful than himself for sexual gratification is probably born without tear ducts.

We should thank Harvey Weinstein for the tear in the patriarchy

They’re coming out of the woodwork. Or being smoked out, unless you count Kevin Spacey, with his cack-handed, failed diversionary tactic (“Hey, everyone, I’m gay!”). Nobody cares, Kevin. All we care about is whether the other party is a consenting adult.

From Hollywood to Westminster, men are falling from power — despite the best attempts of their apologists, both men and women, to prop them up with the usual bleats of witch hunt, snowflake, feminazi, PCGM*, etc.

A female Daily Mail columnist writes how “feminism has taught the current generation of young women that they are entitled to equality and respect, even if they have done nothing to earn it.” Hear that, girls? In 2017, you are not entitled to equality — you must earn it.

This same columnist is married to a British MP who made a Harvey Weinstein joke, while being interviewed by a senior BBC broadcast journalist, who, in turn, fell about laughing at such sexual-assault hilarity.

This same BBC journalist went on to ask another senior politician if the “witch hunt” was “going too far” and would prevent politicians from asking their assistants out on dates: The politicians being male, the assistants being female. Just like the olden days, eh, ladies?

A tear in the patriarchy is probably all that can be expected for now, a modest rip that those unenthused by the simple good manners of gender equality will fall over themselves to stitch up. We certainly have some way to go.

In Ireland, we are still trying to gain legal control over our own bodies — still! — and, in Peru, women are trying not to be murdered.

It is quite something, is it not, when the participants of a ‘beauty’ ‘competition’ like Miss Universe break with the Stepford tradition of giving their body measurements to, instead, give body counts: “My name is Karen Cueto and I represent Lima and my measurements are: 82 femicides and 156 attempted femicides, so far this year.” Another, Camila Canicoba, gave her vital statistics as 2,202 cases of femicide over nine years.

At the end of the pageant, the winner was asked about her ambitions. Instead of saying world peace and fluffy kittens, Romina Lozano said she’d like “to implement a database containing the name of each aggressor, not only for femicide, but for every kind of violence against women.

In this way, we can protect ourselves.” Perhaps such a Peruvian model could be rolled out worldwide.

You know, like a proper witch hunt. With boiling cauldrons filled with the eye of a rapist and leg of a sex pest. Or would that be mean?


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