A woman president? Who cares?

Here we are in 2015, with the world increasingly resembling a rabid goat rodeo hosted over a flaming pit of spikes and giant rattlesnakes, and yet, amazingly, the gender police soldier on. Last week, ABC’s Jordyn Phelps hilariously labeled Carly Fiorina as “the other woman” in the race, then offered this gem of a sentence: “And while Fiorina is quick to tell voters she is not asking for their support on the basis of her gender but her qualifications, her gender identity serves as a contrast with the only other woman in the race.”

Seriously, what does this even mean? I’ve read it four times, and I still don’t know. I guess I shouldn’t worry about it: After all, these days, isn’t gender supposed to be “fluid” and a “social construct”? Don’t we have gender-neutral bathrooms in the White House now? Also, who’s really a “woman,” anyway? Isn’t that kind of exclusive and hegemonic and patriarchal? Man, I’m so tired. Friends, aren’t you tired?

Ridiculousness aside, here’s the bottom line: I don’t care if there is ever a female president, and you shouldn’t either.

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