The Political Weaponization of Female Hysteria
By simultaneously provoking their anxieties and pandering to their egos, the establishment has conscripted leftist women as the unwitting enforcers of NWO tyranny.
As my wife recalls it, she knew the evening was bound for disaster as soon as we walked through the restaurant doors. Raised in the suburbs of Seattle, a city seemingly intent on cannibalizing itself, she is capable of distinguishing a leftist on sight - her voice thick with trepidation as we greeted the party seated and waiting for us beneath a life-sized portrait of Pancho Villa.
I was more oblivious. Although it has been over a year-and-a-half since my immigration stateside, a process greatly delayed by the Covid hoax, I am still learning to spot the subtler manifestations of progressive psychosis. As far as I could tell, these ladies (alongside a scattering of visibly testosterone-deficient husbands), were nothing more than acquaintances of my wife’s newest friend-cum-hairdresser – a friend adamant, as something of a social epicenter within our adoptive hometown, that we’d totally, totally hit it off. And at first we did, at least in that stilted, semi-apologetic way of people in their early-to-mid-thirties, only as the waitstaff cleared away the appetizers and conversation veered sharply toward politics that the extent of our incompatibility became apparent.
“It’s just gross,” said the most dogmatic of dining companions, an assessment met with a murmur of generalized agreement. “It’s like they wanna send us back to the 1800s or something, with back alley surgeries and teenage girls bleeding out across their bathroom floor. I mean, the Supreme Court knows that’s what’s gunna happen, right?”
Beneath the table, I felt my wife’s hand grip my knee. Over the course of the last two years, I have no doubt many readers found themselves, as you humble narrator most assuredly has, being forced to endure levels of stupidity far, far beyond that which they would’ve thought themselves capable. For a while, western civilization seemed ready to just about drown in it – hordes of masked zombies prowling the supermarkets, peaceful protestors torching the streets – such wall-to-wall subservience and imbecility that to challenge every instance of it would be a shortcut, first to a smack in the mouth and second, to a complete mental breakdown. It really is no exaggeration to say that learning to recognize who could and who could not be reasoned with became a survival mechanism for simply getting through the day – a mechanism, as my wife twice reminded me on our drive over, which might easily be compromised by La Casa Navarro’s notorious pitchers of frozen margarita.
Now, it would seem almost self-indulgent of me to dedicate all that much page space to the reactions elicited by my “evils of abortion” speech. By this point, I’m sure the learned reader can have little difficulty imagining how a table full of leftists responded to the news that Roe v Wade was based on a lie or Margaret Sanger’s soft spot for eugenics.
Safe to say, however, the silence.
Was.
Cacophonous.
Perhaps one day, I will properly paint for you, the wide-eyed, open-mouthed, clenched-asshole indignation of that scene, but for the moment, it seems a far more worthwhile exercise to explore why it is women – and overwhelmingly women such as these – who have fallen prey to the establishment’s emotional and psychological manipulation.
Of course, wokism (and all its component absurdities) are far from the first totalitarian ideology to target the fairer sex. One of the most significant drivers behind the Nazis’ rise to power was their ability to convince women to accept a new role within Aryan society, while more recently, ISIS and other Islamic terror groups have undergone something of a PR overhaul in an effort to attract more female recruits. Yet even with these examples in mind, neither can it be denied that, throughout modern history, propaganda has largely sought to appeal to masculine motivations. The reasons for this seem obvious. Certainly, one does not need to bow to dubious claims of male privilege or some nebulous notion of patriarchy to acknowledge that, as both breadwinners and heads of the household, it was men who have traditionally been charged with establishing his family’s political and indeed spiritual character, representing their household both on the battlefield and at the ballot box.
To twenty-first century feminists, this no doubt sounds like a grave injustice. And perhaps, by today’s standards, it is. But so too did it confer an enormous amount of responsibility, a responsibility which good husbands and good fathers endeavored to rise to so that they might form a bulwark between their loved ones and the ever-clasping tentacles of government.
That said, neither can I blame millennial women for growing disillusioned with this dynamic. It was their boomer dads, after all, who constituted the last and most watered-down iteration of this archetype, living up to their role as guide and mentor with only as much vigor as it took to open the front door, pick up the remote control, and select which three-letter bullshit artist was going to be indoctrinating his family that evening.
