A fringe of hardcore “second-wave” feminists, who branded themselves the “New York Radical Women,” decided that the 1968 Miss America pageant was a sexist “cattle auction,” reports History. A herd of a couple of hundred of them gathered outside the pageant in Atlantic City to protest.

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Beautiful young females in bathing suits — who opted to participate — were circuit-blowers for these indignant gals. Judging by photos, the protesters weren’t much to look at. Among feminists, there appears an unwritten rule: The more you look like Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, the greater your bona fides. And if you’re a Frida knockoff, you must reflexively envy detest attractive females.

In any event, History says that contrary to reports, pageant protesters didn’t burn their bras. How scurrilous to even suggest such, because the “‘bra-burner’ stereotype [was] used to malign women’s rights activism and belittle feminists’ concerns.” Instead, very sensibly, “protesters did have a ‘freedom trash can’ into which they could throw bras, mascara and other supposed symbols of oppression[.]” But not their dads’ or husbands’ credit cards and checkbooks, we’ll guess. Oh, and a bra is a symbol?

There’s no report that Gloria Steinem was in attendance, but she certainly was in spirit.

Steinem died earlier this month. She was feted by corporate media as sort of a feminist George Washington. Let’s call Steinem a Washington of destruction. She backed abortion, ballyhooed the pill, celebrated sexual promiscuity, and routinely demeaned marriage — though she wound up marrying and was left widowed. In retrospect, her quest for female “liberation” was an act of nihilism, intentional or not. Nihilism is the cancer eating away at contemporary feminism.

The harm Steinem did to marriage, family, and the unborn is incalculable. Yet she’s acclaimed by women who live by feminism’s twisted credo like it’s the Ten Commandments.

According to Harper’s Bazaar, September 3:

Born in 1934 in Toledo, Ohio, Steinem was the face of the ’60s second-wave feminism movement, thanks to her work as a journalist and writer. Her undercover investigation that exposed the exploitation and mistreatment of Playboy Bunny cocktail waitresses at Hugh Hefner’s nightclub — published as “A Bunny’s Tale” for Show magazine — propelled her into national fame.

Steinem’s sleuthing surely ranks next to Uncle Tom’s Cabin, penned by Harriet Beecher Stowe. Check that. Stowe was a truly praiseworthy, intrepid woman, and Uncle Tom’s Cabin was so impactful that legend holds that Abe Lincoln once wryly observed that it instigated the Civil War.

By the 1960s, slavery had long been vanquished. The Civil Rights movement was reaching its culmination. The Vietnam War, in all its glorious controversy, would preoccupy the nation through the decade’s second half. Feminism’s big issues were resolved. Suffrage had long before been extended. Females had access to higher education and workplaces were opening up. Cleavage and bunny tails combined weren’t a cause of outrage.

But Steinem’s exposé rang a bell with America’s Fridas and their liberal news media enablers. Never mind that exploited and mistreated lasses had the option of handing their bunny tails back to Hef and snagging jobs at Marshall Field’s.

The 1960s were bursting with romanticized, adolescent-driven counterculture gripes and stupidities. Affluence-fueled popular culture descended into “Forever Seventeen.” It was fertile ground for second-wave feminism. Steinem was catapulted to national prominence because she went undercover for a month at a Playboy Club, serving booze to guys chomping cigars and ogling her (presumably).

Contrarians might claim that Steinem didn’t hold a candle to Ida Tarbell, an early 1900s muckraker who tackled John D. Rockefeller’s and Standard Oil’s cutthroat and underhanded business practices. Or Nellie Bly, who in the late 1800s bravely went undercover at a snake pit of a New York insane asylum and wrote about it. Wannabe centerfolds being “exploited” just ain’t in the same ballpark.

While Steinem’s ticket to fame was trivial, her subsequent work wasn’t. She never had children but did have an abortion and was a loud champion for that act of rationalized barbarism. She spawned views on women’s “rights” that have proven ever more toxic as the decades have unfolded. A long trail of tears… of broken marriages, shattered families, and immense injuries inflicted on millions of children — unborn and born — are features of Steinem’s malignant bequeathal.

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Which brings us to today. A darkness has descended on feminism. Where to begin?

September 10 was the one-year anniversary of Charlie Kirk’s assassination. In the aftermath of Kirk’s death, recall the venom spewed at him on social media by liberated females, many fittingly tatted up and pierced like the savages they are. Liberated females, not their eunuchs, lopsidedly dominated the hate porn. It had the creepy feel of the Manson Family girls back in the late 60s and early 70s.

A year after Charlie’s shooting, the ugliness continues, reported the Daily Mail via MSN. Such seems an outgrowth of a developing mental health crisis afflicting so-called progressive females.

The trial of Lindsay Clancy — the apparent psychotic, Massachusetts mother who, with unambiguous premeditation, strangled her three young children — ended in a hung jury. A courageous male juror wanted a guilty verdict, while nine women and two castrati wanted to find Clancy not guilty — by reason of hormones or some — such twaddle.

After the trial, it was reported that belligerent female jurors had taken to berating the outnumbered holdout — a black male, no less. Yet, no cries of racism were directed at catty, non-black jurors. A few female jurors went on camera to air their grievances against a man who stood unwavering for simple common sense. This valorous juror is being doxxed now.

And final shameful tale from Massachusetts.

Governor Maura Healey — reportedly a lesbian Catholic — signed legislation okaying healthcare providers — an oxymoron if there ever was one — to kill fully formed babies in birth canals — meaning, committing near-term abortion. Healy signed the measure with a chilling, satisfied grin. Upon finishing, she handed off her pen as a souvenir.

The women surrounding Healey’s desk were smiling and clapping. The moral inversion — okay, perversion — is stunning. Even if these females — presumably once or now capable of childbearing — believed that the legislation was medically necessary, the moment should have been solemn. Instead, ghoulish joy.

Late-term abortions are medically unnecessary and inexcusable, but since Roe v. Wade, pro-abortion champs like Steinem have tortured reason and morality in the push to extinguish innocent life at whatever stage. “My body, my right” is amped-up narcissism. A future generation will come to regard abortion with greater disdain than slavery is held today.

By the late 1970s, feminism was a spent force. Major gains had been made. Consolidations would follow. Second-wave feminism had little to do with advancing women’s rights. In part, it was about concocting idiosyncratic stunts to keep the feminist movement alive. Worse, it became the vehicle for an agenda that was and is outright sinister. Man-hating became de rigueur. Modern feminism bandies about the euphemism “patriarchy.” The patriarchy — men — want women barefoot and pregnant and toiling away over hot stoves. Or wearing bunny tails, the brutes!

Think about it. Modern feminism’s principal tenets are about hostility to males, marriage, family, and, yes, children — unless all bend to feminist edicts. And injury atop injury, children are either disposable or plastic. Gender is designated at birth. Males can be females (likely preferably) or females, males. Boys are too rambunctious and assertive, so they must be stifled. Drugs will do the trick if moms and female — and feminized — teachers can’t.

Yeah, okay, it’s a myth that feminists burned their bras back in 1968. Maybe some trashed them. But what they really trashed were their minds… and for too many, their souls.

J. Robert Smith can be found at X. His handle is @JRobertSmith1. At Gab, @JRobertSmith. Also at Truth Social, @JRobertSmith. He blogs occasionally at Flyover.

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