Feminism spreads lies like a fly spreads germs.
sycophant follower illustrated that brilliant insight:
What can mere feminists do in the face of such reckless hate? Why write slam poetry of course!
Lauralot comes through:
I heard a fly buzz when feminism died;
The stillness round her bed
Was like the stillness in Slut Walk
After the maginas fled.
The MRAs beside had catcalled hoarse,
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when alphas
Be witnessed in their power.
She willed her burnt bras, signed away
What portion of her lies
Made men accountable,-and then
There interposed a fly,
With cold, man-hating, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and she;
And then the windows failed, and then
There ended herstory.
And then Moewicus starts the limericks!
There once was a man named Fidelbogenus
Whose pet fly buzzed around, pokin’ us.
Us feminist liars
cursed this truth-telling flier
Yet still it flew round our heads to beholden us.
Not content with subtle artistry, Scar also rewrites That’s Amore:
In Napoli where love is king
When boy meets girl here’s what they say:
When your wife hits your eye and you can’t even cry
When that eye starts to shine and you say “oh, it’s fine”
Your cup will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling
And you’ll say “help a fella?”
Sluts will say “Give me all your pay! Give me all your pay!”
Like a cruel tax collector.
When long hair makes you drool, like a cuckolded fool
When you slump down the street with no shoes on your feet
You’re in love!
When you buy them a ring then they say “You are dreaming, signore!”
Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli
I think Dean Martin would sign on for that.