Against better judgment and more as victim of a social invitation better accepted than disrupted, I was forced grudgingly recently to take in a Hollywood blockbuster that shall forever remain nameless out of my spiteful unwillingness ever to speak it aloud again. The title matters little, since the genre upon description will encompass any one of 200 selections in recent years on a similar laughable theme: “Men are weak, useless and incompetent while women save the world while telling man jokes.”

For most of the next two hours, my willing suspension of disbelief and my ability to stifle laughter abandoned me as our group of friends was treated to a big screen festering dollop of social engineering of the most outlandish and ridiculous kind.

In scene after scene, petite female characters in skintight leotards and stiletto heels burst through barricaded doors to rescue their helpless, sometimes weepy, male allies, roundhouse kicked entire rooms of NFL linebackers holding automatic weapons and barked commands to constantly flummoxed and befuddled men on the good side who were clearly not up to the task of saving the planet. Apparently for lack of ovaries.

Indeed, if not for these patent leather Lolita dynamos with thighs the circumference of my biceps, the world might never know the true dangers of a size 0 female in a choker necklace unleashed against endless ranks of villainous males standing 6’5″ or better who live in weight rooms and subsist only on steroids, Jujitsu and the meat from dinosaurs killed daily by their bare hands.

Still, brutish and bulging as the bad guys were, they were constantly outmatched, outfought, out grunted (reminding one of a female tennis Grand Slam event, trading punches instead of forehand volley) and outsmarted by these superior life forms in sportsbras and thongs. It wasn’t even close. Thank goodness, the spinner nymphets from planet Aphrodite flew in to help.

As we left the theater, my sides and mouth nearly aching from suppressed giggles and smirks, I couldn’t help but notice the gleam of satisfied empowerment in the eyes of the female attendees and the palpable downcast gaze and slagging vigor of their millennial consorts walking a few steps behind so as not to offend. Not exactly predictive of a hot night in boudoir for dessert.

Indoctrination lesson received and absorbed.

But at what social cost? How did the obvious and oblate suddenly become so difficult to accept and comprehend?

Setting aside for now the visceral horrors of the burgeoning ranks of soy boys in glitter and 10-year old drag queens fondling elephant trunk appendages of adult men in gay nightclubs, does anyone really believe that Courtney Cox could kick Dolph Lundgren’s ass anywhere but on a Hollywood film set? GTFOH.

And from a pragmatic, utilitarian-only standpoint, who suffers most if these messages are transmitted, received, mandated and even expected by a delusional post-reality humankind?

We all do. All of us. Every human of every age.

By encouraging girls to emulate and indeed, replace boys and or, vice versa, we are inherently depriving society of statistical probabilities and pathways to excellence to task that have inescapable impacts not limited to emotional and mental stability in the fabric of society, but in the productivity, advancement, ingenuity and pioneering advancement in every human endeavor. Such a profound shift can only predict generational and species-wide degradation of overall ability for the human race. Including shirtless kickboxing.

Ignoring the natural biological proclivities, biomechanical differences in abilities, psychologically preselected talents and emotional skillsets of the genders may seem a harmless, avant garde social experiment for the broadening of social norms and more. In reality, it increases the likelihood that at some point future date, the right men and right women will be in the wrong places, wrong jobs and wrong positions at the wrong time for the accomplishment of critical societal solutions and possibly, species-dependent tasks.

Translation, we’re going to produce generations of men and women who are so busy emulating the opposite sex that they fail to realize societal disaster imbued by an innate inability to even approach mediocrity in their lack of ability to fill the bill across the entire spectrum of human performance.

No matter how trendy the ideal, the genders are not now and never will be equally equipped, equally built, equally endowed and equally proficient in the span of human endeavor. Ironically, this very era of bizarro sexual science fiction is proving more than ever It’s inescapable fact.

Stepping into the sunlight of the real world and heading for the car, I retrieved my personal device from pocket to catch up on the latest meaningless information from planet digital. I swiped open to a flash notification:

“Mediocre Trans-male Cyclist Wins Women’s World Championship in Record Time”

Hmm.

I guess Courtney Cox wasn’t available.