Don’t get me wrong: I love to complain about things that might actually be fine, and I love to make up people and then get mad at them. But the bro construction robs us of the pleasure of these activities by keeping us from thinking deeply about why we don’t like innocuous things and imaginary people. It is an obstacle to clarity in hating. I want Instagram posts about why going to the gym is a waste of time, essays about how the tech sector has spent billions to make cities boring, and TikTok videos about Marty Supreme having nine Oscar nominations and three unfinished plots. I want to be intoxicated by negativity in its undiluted form, but instead I get watered-down descriptions of what kind of people like things that the user of bro does not. After more than a decade of bro-ing our resentments into demographics, the time has come to bury the construction, maybe forever.