I am but a simple opossum, and abstract discourses on various shades of post-constructionist feminist theory regarding the subtle nuances of sex vs. gender and the most collectively agreed-upon justification for women-born-women of European descent to maintain the hypothesis that they are the innocent victims of awful, awful men and therefore have no need to consider the possibility that anyone else — and most emphatically anyone who drew a Y chromosome in the sperm lottery — could have suffered as they have suffered, or that they might be just a titch bigoted and self-righteous, or, not to put to fine a point on it, this article here, bothers me. Me thinks the lady doth employ a few too many polysyllabic words, her privileged perch of prejudice to defend, which is her prerogative, and who am I to criticize anyone who, having managed to enjoy the advancement of their demographic by the struggles of those who came before, now wishes to prevent those who still feel the boot on their necks to rise? Why should anyone who no longer feels the lash seek to help another escape? Wherefore must needs one so blonde, having managed to wedge the word “intersectional” into her screed, give a toss that by her refusal to hold the door for them’s what follows, she has volunteered to become another brick in the wall, barb on the wire, lapdog of the machine she once yapped at? But, yet and still, as I live and breathe, I am no better than the worst — thus the converse is true: no worse than the best — and though I may yet someday become acknowledged in the eyes of even this nattering nabob of narrow-minded maxims as a human being of worth rather than an abstraction to be pouted against, an excuse to display her liberal arts degree, I will continue to strive for a society in which all forms of humankind may enjoy the sweet fruits of liberty, no matter their body of birth or current mode of expression, yay, though it means I must fight against my former allies who have so grossly lost their way or turned their coats.

Yo, Terfie, watch ya back. Ain’t nobody cares about yer theory. We comin’ up and if ya not on our side, you the enemy. Equality for all. No exceptions.

An’ if ya don’t know, now ya know, cister.