Marrying inanimate and “personal” objects is a favorite past time of feminists. For a while, there was a trend of marrying oneself. The Mexicans decided they wanted to jump on the bandwagon like they do illegal stuffed semi trucks (see REBUTTAL: Sorry Cosmopolitan, ‘Self-Marriage’ is Only for Pathetic Losers and Feminists Embrace All-Female, Asexual Reproducing Crayfish as Mascot).
These blushing brides are marrying trees. To protest illegal logging. Well played, 2018.
Time to tie the knot! Mexican women marry trees pic.twitter.com/sOoN0QOnzd
— Ruptly (@Ruptly) February 26, 2018
Well, these are certainly special and unforgettable ceremonies. Unfortunately, their love seems rooted in one-sidedness. Plants can’t consent after all. It’s also possible these shrubs are already spoken for. These feminists could be barking up the wrong tree, meddling with fruits belonging to another lover. Hands off, sapling succubi!
One would think feminists would find a better way to raise awareness. Like an educational video. Posters. Maybe a march? No, no, that wasn’t enough. The great minds of the feminist movement are exchanging vows with trees. Just when you think self-marriage is pinnacle feminist idiocy, a broad tells a tree she’ll honor it for all her life. No word yet on what happens if she cheats on the tree with its arborist.
I do see another hashtag coming on, though. #TreeALoveSong
Lemme get you started:
- “Someone Like Elm” by Adele Birchwood
- “Timber” by Pitbull is already done. It’s a gimme.
- “You Were Meant for Laquer” by Jewel Encrusted Maple
- “How Deep are Your Roots” by Saturday Night Fir
- “Shape of Yew” by Ed Pecan
I know the first year anniversary present is paper, but this is too much. I don’t want to think about how these brides are consummating with wood but… oh wait.
THIS JUST IN: reports say the trees are cutting themselves down to avoid being wed to one of these sharpy browed wonders.
We sympathize. Though even dead, these poor trees will be made into furniture. Only to be scratched by a herd of feminist cats.
Cut if you do, cut if you don’t.