This article is a 21st century reimagining of the satirical essay “A Modest Proposal.”
(To the tune of “Be Our Guest” from “Beauty and the Beast”): Men are trash, men are trash, ‘tis their name we aim to abash, masculinity so toxic and decisions made so rash. However, unlike Belle, these guests have been uninvited.
It’s time to kill all men.
I get that that sounds harsh, but just hear me out, OK? I assure you it’s for the greater good. We mustn’t make this a bigger deal than it needs to be. Sure, that white dude who always plays “Devil’s advocate” in your econ class may look fine as hell in his faded gray sweatpants, but at the end of the day his existence is founded on your oppression. Unless you’re also a man. Whoops.
Before any of you “not all men” daddy-bangers try to pull my argument out of context, let me clarify what this article is not. This article is not a call to violence. But it’s not a passive approach to the issue at hand either. It is, simply put, a chance at a new beginning. This is my anti-manifesto.
What kills cis men? Being told they’re wrong. All it takes is walking up to them, looking them right in the eye and telling them, “There is such a thing as the clit,” or “Lesbians do exist outside of PornHub,” or “Quentin Tarantino is an overrated director” or literally any other topic that men are typically wrong about. Bonus points for telling them you faked all your orgasms.
And if you get a chance to talk over them before they can fully articulate a “well, actually,” rebuttal, even better. Rest assured, within an hour, they will be nothing more than a distant memory.
OK, so the men are dead. Now what? I’ll tell you what.
Filling the newly opened governmental positions might seem daunting at first, given that 76 percent of all Republican elected officials and 65 percent of all Democratic elected officials are men, but why keep the established government? Given its patriarchal origins, I’d venture to say we can just #ThankUNext the whole thing. Besides, isn’t that what the Illuminati is for?
I’d feel more comfortable with Beyonce in power, anyway. After all, she was the inspiration for this call to action!
What about day-to-day life? Well, with men now gone (note: I am limiting this argument to those over the age of 18, because killing children might perhaps be denounced as “tasteless,” or whatever), it will fall upon non-men to raise the children. Imagine that. No more locker room talk, no more “boys will be boys,” no more internalized patriarchy.
Honestly, men as a concept aren’t the problem; it’s the execution I’m critical of. Thus, non-men could task themselves with raising children in the best way they see fit. These new child-rearing methods, coupled with all the sperm stored in banks, would allow us to attain the world we always wanted.
That’s all fine and well, you may be thinking, but whatever will we do with the bodies?
Why, eat them, of course. We mustn’t let a good thing go to waste. And although men are admittedly a little salty, world hunger would soon become a thing of the past. Just take care not to eat the brain — don’t need those empty calories, starving or not.
For those of us who just “can’t get enough of that D,” there’s a solution for that, too. Given that men will simply drop dead at the first indication that maybe they don’t know everything, their organs will still be relatively intact. That includes the inimitable “D,” which, with the help of well-trained surgeons, could be reassigned to trans men to keep the party going. Time for those former members of society to be dis-membered (haha, get it).
A new era is on the horizon; don’t let men get in the way. And to all the men reading this article: do not go Swiftly into that good night. Or, better yet, do.
Cameron Tipton PO ’20 is a self-proclaimed “pulchritudinous, concupiscent, grandiloquent misandrist.” Check out their website, “Queermont Colleges.”