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It’s 2050 and feminism has finally won. Women make up more than 80% of serial killers and serial killer-related entertainment shows. Everyone agrees that Harper Lee wrote In Cold Blood under Truman Capote’s name as a favor before beating Ernest Hemingway in Greco-Roman-style wrestling. Sex is just when two or more women take the mathematics portion of the SAT together and kick a businessman’s teeth in. It’s 2050 and Bob Dylan was never even born.

It’s 2050, and do you know what science is now? The 1996 movie about teen witches, The Craft. It’s the feminist future, and women are the ones who sit with their knees sprawled out on the subway. Men have to sit on the floor, and if a woman tells them to lick the pole, they have to do it, because Kamala Harris is the eternal Goddess-King of America now. It’s 2050 and January Jones keeps the bones of Bill Murray in a golden cage and it’s illegal to watch or quote Caddyshack. This is what feminism is now.

It’s 2050 and Nick Offerman has to wear a bridle and allow any woman who asks to ride him across the Mississippi instead of taking a bridge. This is what happens when the feminists win. No one has ever even heard of Steely Dan.

It’s 2050, and women swagger down the street, many of them ten feet tall, draped in construction vests and catcalling the men who scurry from hiding place to hiding place during the daylight hours. Actual cats fly out of their mouths, along with sexually objectifying remarks. It’s the year 2050 and nursing in public is mandatory. Whenever a woman starts nursing, every man within a quarter-mile is required by law to watch her do it while feeding her melon and calling her a ‘living miracle.’

It’s 2050 and men spend most of their time writing passionate letters and sending money to charismatic female murderers in prison. It’s 2050 and the number one compliment that women give men is “feisty.” It’s 2050 and instead of using fossil fuels, planes and trucks now run on feelings. The entire Supreme Court has been replaced by Tumblr posts by Avatar: The Last Airbender slash fans. Joss Whedon has been exiled to an uninhabited island where he is regularly brought food and supplies but forbidden from creating narratives about ass-kicking blonde women. The entire cast of Entourage are living footstools in Emma Watson’s house. It’s 2050.

It’s the year 2050 and it’s illegal for men to buy protein powder or use the free weights at the gym. They can use the stair-stepper and if they’re very good, the little two-pound dumbbells that are coated in pink plastic, but they can only use them for calf raises. It’s 2050 and feminists have sexualized men’s calves. It’s 2050 and it’s illegal for a man to play a guitar in a public place or to know what time it is. Men have to guess.

It’s 2050 and Werner Herzog is no longer allowed to make documentaries, only provide commentary over reruns of The Golden Girls and Golden Palace. This is where feminism is leading us.

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