A triumph of modern feminism

I once saw an episode of Sex and the City, but I didn’t inhale.  I have, however, been subjected to endless trailers of the movies – which pose something of a conundrum.  If a film is this boring, humdrum, tasteless and depressing in a 90 second précis, just how bad would it be if you were compelled to watch all 2 and a half hours of it?  Well, since I have no intention of finding out for myself, I’ll follow the guidance of Lindy West.  Edited highlights:

 

SATC2 takes everything that I hold dear as a woman and as a human—working hard, contributing to society, not being an entitled cunt like it's my job—and rapes it to death with a stiletto that costs more than my car. It is 146 minutes long, which means that I entered the theater in the bloom of youth and emerged with a family of field mice living in my long, white mustache. This is an entirely inappropriate length for what is essentially a home video of gay men playing with giant Barbie dolls…

 

At sexism's funeral (which takes place in a mysterious, incense-shrouded chamber of international sisterhood), the women of Abu Dhabi remove their black robes and veils to reveal—this is not a joke—the same hideous, disposable, criminally expensive shreds of cloth and feathers that hang from Carrie et al.'s emaciated goblin shoulders. Muslim women: Under those craaaaaaay-zy robes, they're just as vapid and obsessed with physical beauty and meaningless material concerns as us! Feminism! Fuck yeah!

 

It’s hard to improve on her magisterial conclusion.

 

If this is what modern womanhood means, then just fucking veil me and sew up all my holes. Good night.