Be Vewy, Vewy Quiet, Good Old Boys Are Hunting

In a recent New York Times column titled “White Male Victimization Anxiety,” Charles Blow described how President Trump publicly apologized to Justice Brett Kavanaugh for “the terrible pain and suffering you have been forced to endure” at the hands of Christine Blasey Ford, who claimed that Kavanaugh had tried to rape her. Blow also cited Senator Lindsey Graham’s own plucky #MeToo moment during the Kavanaugh hearings, when Graham proclaimed, “I’m a single white male from South Carolina, and I’m told I should shut up.”

Blow’s fine op-ed piece joins a growing media chorus studying the current “victimization” of white American men. We queers can assume – since everybody else does already – that we’re talking straight white American men, who, excoriated for their lapses of “politically correct” behavior, now identify as victims.

Frankly, I find the term “victim” offensive. These people are survivors! Straight white men haven’t recently begun to feel victimized: they’ve felt that way since the dawn of time. It’s one of their main feelings. I know. I went to a “Make America Straight White Male Again” rally and got a free MASWMA baseball cap! This deeply moved me.

So I sat down and composed a little history for first graders, to educate them about the oppressed straight white male diaspora. To explain the patriarchy, I’ve devised an unthreatening little Elmer Fudd-type character that children of all ages are sure to love.

Chapter One: Venus Envy

Long ago, in primitive times, there lived a straight white chubby little male. He had a large, hairless head, a nubby potato nose, shifty primordial eyes, and a dithering, crazed expression that only a Caucasian could love. All day long in his little hunter’s suit, he would stalk about matriarchal civilization, holding his slingshot at the ready.

“Shshsh,” he’d say to the villagers. “Be vewy, vewy quiet. I’m hunting and gatherwing. Huh-huh-huh.”

Folks called him the Good Old Boy.

“That’s to distinguish me from women and minorwities,” he’d say, laughing bashfully.

One day, the Good Old Boy was hunting wabbits, when he tripped over one of those heavy Venus of Willendorf figures that the women kept lying around. “Ow! I bwoke my toe on the lady’s big rock boobies!” cried the Good Old Boy. Then he sighed. “All I have is this crummy penis.”

Suddenly, the Earth’s poles shifted. “Wait!” he said, raising his little fist in the air, “I am being victimized!”

Thus it was that the Good Old Boy started the first reproductive rights campaign! Surrounded by his followers, he held a primeval rally outside the village menstrual hut.

“We demand equal wights to have babies, you pesky bwoads,” he bellowed, as he and his gang threw themselves on the ground, groaning and simulating advanced stages of labor. This made the women stop menstruating and walk away. “Just for that,” called the Good Old Boy after them, “you don’t get to vote! Plus I get to feel you up anytime I want.” Then the Good Old Boy got up, dusted himself off, found Jesus, and conquered Europe.

Chapter Two: God Helps Boys Who Help Themselves

Life in Europe would have been pretty boring if it hadn’t been for God. One day, the Good Old Boy was sitting in his 11th century hovel, eating his Euro-breakfast of gruel and croissants. “Woman,” he growled at his wife, “this food is tasteless. Bring me nutmeg, dammit.”

Then he remembered that his wife had left him nine years ago, taking all the spices. So God told him to go all the way to the Middle East to get his nutmeg. “I’m a wegular Chrwistian martyr,” grumbled the Good Old Boy.

On his way out the door, he tripped over some local pixies who were wont to engage in zesty homosexual acts with each other. “Thou corn-holing, minorwity bog dwellers!” he scolded. “You better not be here when I get back.”

When the Good Old Boy got to the Middle East, he was so dazzled by the level of civilization, he almost forgot about his nutmeg. Never had he seen such fine buildings, such brilliant art. Then he noticed that the natives were laughing at him under the hot, Islamic sun. “Waskally people of color,” he seethed. “They’re giggling at my sunburn. Help me, Jesus – I’m being victimized!”

Then Jesus gave him the gift of Islamophobia and told the Good Old Boy to colonize the entire Mideast for centuries. So he did.

Chapter Three: Burn, Pixie, Burn

Back in Europe, our hero was finally starting to feel good about himself! But it isn’t easy for straight white males in this world, children. Often, he was forced to endure harassment from cackling old women who tried to turn him into a bat or make his crops fail. Then there were those rotten pixies, who followed him around making kissy noises.

So he lit a bonfire. “Burn in hell, evil hag,” said the Good Old Boy. “Take that, faggot,” he added, throwing another pixie on the fire. No doubt about it: he was developing real straight white male pride! Still, that old feeling came over him – he felt like a victim.

Chapter Four: Democracy

Fleeing victimization, the Good Old Boy crossed the mighty waves to the New Land. There he found millions of people who had lived there for centuries with their own forms of democracy. But the Good Old Boy had been duped before, so he conducted a little survey. He found that, in all the great tribal councils, there was not one straight white male. Imagine his feelings!

“You can’t fool me,” cried the Good Old Boy. “You’re all women and minorwities. This is weverse discrwimination.”

He sat down to clean his gun, which went off, annihilating 5,000,000 of the women and minorities. He turned and coughed in their direction and 5,000,000 more died of smallpox and other diseases. He picked up a catalog and ordered 450,000 slaves to build his life in the New Land. Then he thought about how good it would be to get together with other Good Old Boys and hammer out the Constitution. He felt better.

Yet, even today, the struggle continues. Plagued by invading caravans and the hoax of climate change, the Good Old Boy is forced to sleep with his gun. And he dreams. He dreams of how he will shoot the crap out of anyone who dares to make him feel like a victim.

Study Questions:

1) Write an essay about your favorite straight while male character in Franz Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth.

2) Are there any women, Jews, or people of color in the membership rolls of the Proud Boys? Discuss.

3) Fifty-three percent of white women voted for President Trump. What the fuck?

 

susie day writes about prison, policing, and political activism. She’s also written political satire, a collection of which, Snidelines: Talking Trash to Power, was published in 2014. In 2020, her book, The Brother You Choose: Paul Coates and Eddie Conway Talk About Life, Politics, and The Revolution was published by Haymarket. She lives in New York City with her partner, the infamous Laura Whitehorn.