Consider the following account of Katie Hopkins, a British reporter at Saturday's Women's March on Washington:
Her sign said; 'I am more than my vagina'. I asked her why she was at the Women's March on Washington. She said it was because she wanted to show what democracy really meant.
Another white lady held a placard reminding me that 'white silence = white consent but Black Lives Matter #BLM'. She said she was marching because women own their own bodies.
And a lady, pushing a stroller with two children on board, facing down the secret service, with a sign that made it clear Trump is 'Not My President'.
Even the speakers sounded confused. As I ate a three piece chicken meal with a side of slaw to recover from hearing the Koran read out in Washington Cathedral, I listened to one manic woman yell at the crowd;
'We are women. And you are we. And we are you', gesturing to make her point clear. It wasn't. But the crowd loved it all the same.
Madonna popped up, her eyes inching ever closer to her ears to let us know Good did not win this election. (I didn't even know Good was a candidate.)
In the interests of full disclosure she told the crowd she had considered blowing up the White House'. The tolerant left also get PMS it seems.
Another speaker, short on content but gushing with estrogen shouted: 'We are here'. (She was not wrong, we were). We will not be silenced. We will not play dead'.
To be fair to Trump, I have not heard the silencing of females or women playing dead in his 100 day plan. Perhaps a more suitable venue for this speech would be outside the Saudi embassy, where the silencing of women is all the rage.
A woman whipped into a frenzy by her own brilliance started listing girls' names, 'Emily, Conchita, Malala, Edith, Tonia, Shania (we had all got the point but she carried on regardless) Maria Guadalupe, Kayleigh....we are here to be respected. We are here to be nasty.
I think Madonna had already received this memo.
And fueled by these pearls of wisdom, the women set off for the streets, pussy ears perked, banners aloft, chanting as they went.
'Tell me what democracy looks like?' 'This is what democracy looks like'.
I wanted to point out, respectfully, that democracy is the Electoral College system that saw Trump turn the map from blue to red. But there were a few million of them. And they had pictures of vaginas. So I decided this was not the time.
I thought I heard the women chanting 'Menstrual brew' which had me wondering exactly what this lot were on. But listening more closely it turned out to be 'Pence Sucks Too.'
I was grateful for the clarity. I thought it was just Trump they hated. But it turns out it is all men. Apart from the ones who are transitioning to women.
'What do we want? Equality'. 'When do we want it?' 'NOW'.
I wondered what in their world was not equal, but I guess if you have a massive chip on one shoulder the world is probably a bit askew.
I took a peak at the map to see if any of them actually knew what they were doing, what they were protesting about or where they were going.
I was surprised to see a lactation station, a reunification station marked by fist and a fleet of warming buses before they had reached mile one.
An almighty army of women, gushing, fisting, and lactating their way down the road. Right on, sister.
For all my jibes, there was something truly impressive about the sheer scale of the crowds, the enormous number of women and men, filling the streets of Washington in a noisy bubbling ribbon of pink and placards.
But it is an army lacking a common purpose. Lacking a common cause. Every one of them wielding a placard for a different grudge they bear. Many unable to give a coherent reason for being there. Most at odds with the placards they carried. Many cross a woman didn't win.
But simply being a woman is not enough.
This was a march defined by gender, not purpose - much like Clinton's campaign. And a march where the meaningless drivel of the speakers was matched by the lack of a clear aim of those marching.
No one would argue their hearts were not in it. I found myself smiling at their happiness in each other's company, their relief to be together, reminding each other they are not alone.
But a shared sense of victimhood is not sufficient to make change happen. And at its most fundamental the unifying cause for these collected individuals is that they are not men.
They will not be silenced. That is clear. But they don't know what it is they are shouting about. Anger is not enough.
Feminism has to be better than this. Better than posters telling me your vagina is tough. Or 'this pussy grabs back'. So what? Mine can stash a 24 oz can of Coors Light. Sideways.
Hillary tried to win by doing everything they've just done today - by being a woman, a woman who wants to be the candidate for everyone who feels like a victim, who feels maligned by society. She was the candidate for every cause, but master of none.
The voices today? Just an echo of her mixed messages. And that wasn't, isn't enough.
The left believes it is better than the rest. But it has prejudices of its own.
The same prejudices that saw guests at the Armed Services Inauguration Ball spat at. Or Madonna saying she'd like to blow up the White House. Or the very fact you fell out over what to name the Women's March in case it was divisive. Or for being too white. They even snubbed Hillary Clinton as an honoree for the Women's March on Washington, because she was gracious and attended Trump's inauguration. Imagine how much that day hurt her, and yet they rejected her despite her courage. Shame on them.
These prejudices, these prevarications, this failure to stand for something, not represent everything, are exactly why people turn to Trump. And exactly why they lost and will continue to lose.
They are strong, I watched them today.
But they have to be better than this.
You win if you offer a clear vision supported by this strength to get things done. Not just because you are a woman.
Benedict Arnold 