Let It Burn: On the Irredeemability of the Masculine and the Necessity of Collapse

Monday, March 31, 2025

There comes a point where theory must rupture the page — where lived clarity outpaces any fantasy of reconciliation. This is not a call for healing. It is a declaration of irreversibility. A recognition that the masculine, as constructed under patriarchy, is not just a position of privilege but a spiritual deformation, a system so deeply embodied it cannot be reformatted without obliteration.

Some truths demand fire.

We have tried, endlessly, to re-educate, to nuance, to soften the rage with empathy. But what if empathy itself has been weaponized? What if our capacity to understand, to carry the weight of their fragmentation, is what keeps the machinery running?

Because the masculine, as it stands, is not a neutral position. It is a programmed dissociation. A cultural virus that teaches boys to amputate their emotional intelligence, to externalize failure, to misrecognize power as presence. Fragmented awareness is not a flaw — it is a feature of their socialization. Their consciousness is not incomplete by accident. It has been trained to resist wholeness.

Andrea Dworkin saw this with crystalline precision: “The genius of patriarchy is that it convinces men that their self-destruction is a form of power.” What we face is not ignorance — it’s an institutionalized refusal to become fully human. Sylvia Wynter goes further: she teaches us that Man (with a capital M) is not a universal subject, but a genre. A genre built on exclusion, conquest, and epistemic closure.

So no — not all of them can be deprogrammed.
Not because we hate them, but because they cannot yet bear to see themselves without collapsing into violence, denial, or manipulation.

Some women will continue to try. They will attempt to coax softness from a cracked shell, hoping their love will remap the circuitry. But what if that effort is itself a trap? What if every second spent trying to redeem a man is a second stolen from the genesis of another world?

Frantz Fanon knew: the colonized mind cannot be freed by the colonizer.
And we know: the feminine cannot be liberated by the one who profits from her containment.

This is not about essentialism. This is about structural lucidity. About refusing to be the psychic nurse of half-formed men who wear brokenness like aesthetics, who romanticize war-torn souls on Instagram while draining the vitality of women who see too much.

It is no longer sustainable to carry their contradictions.

There is power in leaving.
There is dignity in refusing to be the scene of their failed awakening.
And there is radical clarity in turning away — not with cruelty, but with the cold, sacred knowledge that some systems must collapse for anything true to emerge.

So we offer no savior myth.
Instead, we become architects of what comes after.

Women —awaiting subjects in flux, lucid and untamed — are not here to save the masculine.
They are here to remember, to unmake, and to rebuild.

Let the old world burn.

And from the ash, let something unthinkable begin.