Dear Male Humans

Please don’t let the pain of your individual existences inure you against the glory of female resistance, riding around these days with the top down and the wind ruffling our hair. The pain of your individual existence is great. It is the pain of all human existence in relationship to people who want things, and to institutions that control you, and to the memory of your own looming extinction. You suffer in intimate life with female humans who raise you and against whom you often feel small. You feel uneasy when we report insults that rain down on us all the time, and the double standard of men can and women not so fast that is our condition from the moment we know we are female. We report the ways it feels to be in this position and other tolls of living in societies that protect male humans from awareness of their privilege and slip them past penalties for harms they commit. You say you are shocked. You are not shocked. You are ashamed, and often people turn against the source of unwelcome consciousness rather than open themselves to the possibility of complicity. If you have been any kind of male human, you have gotten away with some shit. You know it, and we know it. You don’t want to be blamed (who does?), plus your friends are being picked off, one at a time, some with merit you admit, some as targets of a vigilante tide you sometimes argue disqualifies the entire campaign of seeking justice. Stop doing that. You feel fucked by the governmental coup we are living under, as do we feel fucked by it, and this feeling of being fucked can go two ways. It can make you identify with people who are feeling fucked all the time, including by your cluelessness to our social circumstances. You can say, okay, I wouldn’t like that at all. I would really find that abhorent and although I am not going to help you get the things you want, at least I won’t deny the truth of your account. Or you can be a dick and go on being a dick with a bad taste in your mouth nothing you say or consume will dissolve.

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