The crowd falls silent. Rachel Chunko steps onto the soapbox.

Something went wrong between… The crowd falls silent. Rachel Chunko steps onto the soapbox.

Something went wrong between the quiet battles fought by Mary Wollstonecraft and Mary Astell and the graceless, whimpering feminism of today. And it’s annoying.

The feminists I know are not the strong women I hoped they’d be. In reality, they are catty and full of unfounded self-pity. Where’s the strength you tell me about? Because I don’t see it.

I’m sure feminism really does rock like a girl with dreadlocks at Lillith Fair, but I have no evidence to that end. Feminism is inherently flawed for two reasons:

1. Ask a feminist what feminism is, and she’ll tell you, “It’s about equality between the sexes.” Tell a feminist why, logically, the prefix of the movement should not be “fem” and that the concept is therefore inherently flawed, and she’ll tell you you’re wrong and then not be able to tell you why. Feminism should be “equitism” by their logic, but it’s not.

2. It seems as if feminists, for the most part, find themselves in some way incompetent or incomplete as women. Feminism is more like a scapegoat for what goes wrong in people’s lives. Few feminists practice what they preach.

All neo-feminism does is dwell on the differences among people, rather than work from the starting point we’re all given. In this modern environment, aren’t we past the need for such pronounced separations? Equality should exist between the sexes. Let’s just not make such a big dramatic freakin’ deal about everything.

I propose that the women’s movement is no longer necessary. It is out of date and out of style.

For some reason, it’s unpleasant to be reminded of the feminist dogma. There’s nothing worse than people who can’t laugh at themselves.

The feminists are everywhere. You could be sitting in a room, just minding your own business, and if you find yourself smelling GAP fragrance and sitting next to a feminist, then you’re bound to hear all about it. The problem is the absence of this supposed activism.

Feminism is one of those enterprises that nobody can talk about freely for fear of offending someone.

I am female, strong and capable. Here’s what I have to say about it: Modern feminism is an insult to what its foremothers bled and cried for. When Virginia Woolf stood and proclaimed that a woman needs a room of her own to sit and think — that a woman does think — it was never meant to transform into worship of the mason jar that holds Gertrude Stein’s testicles preserved in formaldehyde.

In a gesture of triumph, Rachel throws up her arms. The crowd looks at her quizzically, and then bursts into rousing applause. She quiets them and continues.

Even white males are oppressed in today’s society in some form or another, and so is the woman who just wants to sing Chaka Khan and be every woman.

Modern feminism creates separations and discomfort and doesn’t hold up its own dogma. It’s generally not pleasant to be around a modern feminist. She has to tell you about it. But where is the activism? She keeps talking about what she believes. But what is she doing about it?

The picket lines and refuted logic have gone away, replaced with a tension that is shockingly similar to the one created by the current Republican political control of this country. They’re right, but we don’t know why they’re right. So we also can’t really say they’re wrong.

Modern feminism is a load of crap. Conceptually, it is a wonderful force to help women through their hard times and to band together in times of fragmented strength. In practice, however, feminism falls short.

A joyous cry is heard from the crowd, “Finally, somebody said it!”

Feminists say they’re strong, but they aren’t. They say they have conviction toward positive ends but take no action. It doesn’t count to be sitting in a room with a feminist and to be told why you’re wrong.

I drink for free when I wear a low cut shirt. Now that’s powerful. Here’s my cleavage. Take a good, long look. The female body is powerful, just like the female mind. It has inspired great art, courtly love and the Wonder Bra. Let’s all just enjoy it.

Neo-feminists, you are a bunch of hypocrites. Your convictions arose freshman year when you didn’t know anybody and went to a Campus Women’s Organization meeting to make friends.

Feminists show weakness when they should show strength. They are a disappointment. I wished feminism existed, but it doesn’t. It used to. The concept has been twisted and destroyed, and now it is in so many ways the opposite of what it preaches.

You’re lying: You’re not strong nor are you equal, because you separate yourselves.

Rachel Chunko descends from her soapbox. The crowd gives her thunderous applause.

Rachel Chunko is a chauvanistic pig. Castrate her at [email protected].