I always feel compelled to read T-shirts with messages on them. At the bike shop the other day I noticed a college-age woman with a ball cap that read “University of Chicago.” Her T-shirt said, “My favorite season is … the Fall of the Patriarchy.”
Hey, honey, what has the patriarchy done for you? (Won’t mention the irony that a male (to use a hopelessly cisnormative, binary gender noun) fixed your bike.)
Well, for one, you don’t have to hope that your man was able to kill some game because your favorite patch was denuded by that wicked tribe from across the river. Nope, just saunter down to Whole Foods and buy some organic, non-GMO quinoa for supper – don’t feel guilty that a Peruvian is now eating junk food rather than your precious quinoa. And you can buy cheap T shirts made by persons of color in third world shitholes sporting trendy messages that make you feel superior to everyone else. Life’s good, no?
Actually, what would you do without the civilization built by the patriarchy? Well, I’m sure you could pursue your “intellectual” pursuits on a tropical island with the sisterhood, because you have such vast survival skills you could provide yourself with shelter, raiment and sustenance in mere minutes per day, leaving the rest of the time to rap with your sisters.
Up the Matriarchy!