You truly, truly can’t. On the other hand, why go to the trouble? They’re doing such a bang-up job of it themselves.

Pink pussyhats are being dropped from Women’s March because they ‘exclude trans women and women whose private parts are not pink’

No really, you guys. It would appear, incredible as it may seem to sane people, that these barking moonbats are in fact serious as hell about this. And that they expect to be taken seriously, by actually serious non-lunatics. Steyn, as you would no doubt expect, is having himself one hell of a good old time with it:

Three years ago I wrote:

I can’t recall ever describing The Vagina Monologues as ‘edgy’. But I did tell Joseph Brean that I was amused to see that its annual ‘V Day’ production at Mount Holyoke College has been canceled because of its ‘extremely narrow perspective on what it means to be a woman’. Hence, this Guardian headline: ‘Vagina Monologues playwright: “I never said a woman is someone with a vagina”.’ As I said to Mr Brean, the revolution devours its own: Less than 20 years after Eve Ensler ’empowered’ women by ‘reclaiming’ their vaginas, it seems a woman doesn’t need a vagina at all, and it’s totally cisgenderism to suggest you’re not a woman if you’re hung like a horse.

As is my wont, I was playing it for laughs – but, as I always say, none of the people who matter in our society are laughing. Hence, the Bathroom Wars of the subsequent years, in which the position of what used to be known to Common Law as the Reasonable Man (now presumably the Reasonable Cisman) is apparently (as I put it on Rush): What sort of woman would be offended by the sight of another woman’s penis?

Henry Ford said you could get a Model T in any color as long as it’s black, but you really can get a Volvo in any color. Whoops, sorry, I mean a vulva. In the Civil Rights era, millions marched so that Americans might be judged not by the color of their faces but by the color of their vulvas. If only the apartheid regime in South Africa had thought to issue their citizenry with vulva-colored hats. Hallelujah!

Unfortunately, the Women’s March in Pensacola is having no truck with celebrating divulvaversity, as they explained in a post helpfully labeled…

Trigger Warning and Content Warning for comments: Transphobia, Cissexism, Racism, mention of Sexual Assault, Genital Mutilation, Misogyny and Trans-Misogyny.

They’re not kidding:

The Pink P*ssy Hat reinforces the notion that woman = vagina and vagina = woman, and both of these are incorrect.

Exactly. These days it’s entirely random. You never know what you’re getting into. As I noted a couple of years back, since the two sexes became multiple genders, and “transsexuals” became “transgenders”, and “sex change” became “gender fluidity,” some 60 per cent of transgender persons now retain their original genitalia. For example, my compatriot Gabrielle Tremblay won a Canadian Screen Award for Best Supporting Actress for a film in which she showed her penis.

“Her penis”: See how easy it is to get with the program?

Steyn goes on to posit a darker side to this hilarity: namely, that the fact we’re even lending an ear to such lunatic-fringe nonsense at all signals a tremendous victory for the cultural Marxists. To wit:

The cult-Marxists have remade almost everything in society, and detaching the sex organs from the sexes is the final decisive victory: Once “the notion that woman = vagina and vagina = woman” is up for grabs, there really isn’t anything left to demolish.

A fair enough assertion, I guess, in and of itself. I suppose Steyn’s serious reflection here calls for some at least slightly serious analysis from me too, much as I do hate to interrupt the pointing and laughing to do it. So here goes.

I can’t see this “decisive victory” as anything but Pyrrhic in the long run; it can’t help but rebound against the shriekers severely, and that right soon too. Normal, ordinary Americans not in dire need of psychiatric help will go along with demented thrashing about of the “pussyhat” sort only so far. Especially when it’s accompanied by rabid denunciations of their own more traditional values and standards, coming eventually to be seen as part of an attempt to destroy them.

Which, y’know, it is. Normals have proven themselves by now to be happy enough to leave people on society’s fringes alone to sort out their own issues, as bizarre as some of those issues might be. Much as “liberal” blacks, gay men, lesbians, LGBTXQ39whatthefuckevers, “feminists,” and other melodrama queens like to posture and whine as if there had been no loosening whatsoever of various late-19th-century cultural restrictions, modern American reality is something entirely different.

Ordinary Americans, despite pockets of resistance here and there over the years, are in the main possessed of a forbearance, flexibility, and open-mindedness that speaks quite well of them indeed—especially when compared with, say, the virulent prejudice against blacks still rampant in parts of Asia, or the inflexible hostility to homosexuals or women’s rights in the Muslim world.

But our homegrown nutjobs very scrupulously avoid taking notice of any of that. They are no longer content with mere forbearance, either, having moved on instead to hurling their sundry pathologies in everybody else’s teeth and haranguing Normals with accusations of a “bigotry” and “oppression” that simply do not exist. That mulish, dull-witted, juvenile lack of perspective will only serve to curtail said forbearance with a quickness, likely to be replaced with something that will suit the freaks one whole hell of a lot less.

Amusing Irony Alert: people who lament Trump’s “boorishness” and lack of “decorum” marching around DC in broad daylight…wearing “pussyhats.”

And an aside: Call me an old-fashioned old stick-in-the-mud of an old grouchy old codger if you will. Call me unworldly, call me unsophisticated, call me a hick from the sticks, a rube. Call me delicate, or fussy, or overly fastidious and prim. Call me naive, even, although I assure you you’d be wrong on that one. I’ve been a lot of places, and I’ve seen a lot of things. I’ve skirted danger-close to being what some might consider a libertine myself, at various times and in various ways. I have, in fact, been there and done that. To a much greater extent than most, if I do say so myself.

But one thing I never once imagined seeing, not in a million years I didn’t, was a pussyhat. A hat. Shaped to resemble a pussy—explicitly, no sly subtlety or coyness in design or construction at all, leaving absolutely no room for misinterpretation. Nary a wink, nary a nudge in sight. Worn in full public view, not at a porn industry convention or a NYC Gay Pride parade, not as a tasteless joke of an off-color costume at an adult Halloween party, but in the streets of the nation’s capital. As a political statement, a petition for the redress of grievances as our hallowed Founders put it. By people who expected to be taken seriously rather than made sport of as would be due and proper, or chased off into the night by someone possessed of too much politesse to endure such a breach of etiquette without taking direct action.

Pussyhats. I mean, seriously, you guys.

I still hold that, when you think about it, this endlessly escalating tomfoolery all comes back to the same thing: the hysteric desperation these headcases feel over Trump’s election and his solid progress in keeping his bargain with the American people since he took office. The resultant anguish has driven almost the entirety of the American Left right past the edge of eccentricity or neurosis into genuine madness. The rejection of their disastrous program was a spark that ignited a shrieking, frothing overreaction which I doubt very much they can control or even moderate, no matter how destructive to their ambitions—and to themselves, personally—it will turn out to be.

It’s almost frightening to think about what the response to their coming 2018 shellacking will be. But if things continue along more or less as they have been, it’s almost certain we’re going to find out. And then we’re going to see what that gets them.

My bet? I predicted before he was even elected that there would be more assassination attempts against Trump than any president in history. After the midterms, if the shellacking I anticipate comes to pass and Left whackadoodles find themselves soundly thumped once again (UNEXPECTED!™), look for those to start in earnest, as an even more penetrating despair and hopelessness settles in deep at the ol’ Ha Ha Hotel and the more, umm, proactive inmates figure they have nothing left to lose.