Pussy Whites Snippet from "Nazi Alert": Section 9 of White Supremacy on Its Deathbed
Let's workshop a paragraph from section 9 of White Supremacy on its Deathbed, a paragraph that shows the overcompensating extremes to which savior white people will go to signal guilt and allyship
Pussy Whites Snippet from “Nazi Alert”: Section 9 of White Supremacy on Its Deathbed
[White supremacy on its deathbed] could just sit back and revel in our world where blacks—and to some degree all of us really, especially members of the Chinese Communist Party—cannot get enough (popcorn emoji, popcorn emoji) of all the pathetic groveling, all the pick-me signaling, of pussy whites:
the white public intellectual who, face contorting and voice trembling with revulsion, breaks down in the podcast discussion about why he will never have children (“Quite frankly I’m ashamed to have this puke body: there is no end in sight for the atonement whites have to make”);
the white Grammy winner who, in her clearly-drugged acceptance speech, rambles on and on—“I’m talking to the faces of power in the room, yes the too-many white faces”—about how her fellow “people of privilege” need to return “immediately” any gifts received by black people since “our colonial spirit of whiteness, even if only working subconsciously, most likely manipulated those gifts out of them”;
the white Academy-Award winner on TikTok who, face teary to the point of Blair-Witch boogers falling on her “I support black victims” shirt, announces the “good news” that “the recent census has shown the number of whites to have gone down” after apologizing for not realizing sooner that her favorite brand of vegan shoes might have been made in a factory that once produced culturally insensitive ads in the 1980s";
the white “sensitivity trainer” who, facilitating a “learning module” (mandatory for all faculty of the college at which his firm “Inclusion Quest™” has just renewed its contract), puts on calming sounds before addressing, with a tranquil affect complete with a lisp, “what we are to do, what we are to learn and unlearn, about the terrible disease of whiteness ravaging workplaces across the globe”;
the white music teacher and kalimba player who, despite having a classroom full of African art and always wearing her “Black Ally" pin and never expecting that black students learn western musical notation, steps down from her twenty-five-year position in foggy-spectacle shame during a schoolwide Zoom session centered around her apology for having shown her freshmen class a documentary that included vintage footage of a white man describing the singing behind him as what everyone called such singing at the time (“a negro spiritual”);
the white employee whose whistleblowing on a fellow developer for having retweeted something “the black community could regard as problematic” resulted not only in the immediate firing of that developer, but also in (1) the name-change of a central character in the company’s (and the world’s) most popular first-person shooter game—a change from Mark to Malik (since that character was named after the problematic developer in question)—and (2) months of fruitless brainstorming on how Malik’s special move, his “ultimate ability,” might be changed to something that will “evoke emotional sentiments in black players similar to what Wakanda did in black audiences”;
the white influencer on Instagram who, ignorant of the fact—nazi-ing—that her beans are inextricably tied to the rampant black-on-black slavery in Eritrea, enlightens her followers on the correct “ceremony for brewing and savoring antiracist coffee,” a ceremony that requires (1) “me-time procrastination” (since “punctuality, reeking of the whiteness of perfectionism, is a value of white supremacy”), (2) “intuitive measurements only” (since “precision plunges us into the slime of the white mind”), (3) black-bought cup (since “bitches over here be supportin’ black business!”), (4) “little-to-no-milk” (since “it’s about sensitivity to optics”), (5) “no-circle stirring” (since “circles marginalize the edgy diagonals and the rebellious z-shapes”), (6) “pre-sip slavery acknowledgement” (since “we can never forget the countless souls ripped and raped from their African families by white hands”), (7) “inclusive enjoyment” (since, “weak or strong, every cup is valid as long as all other steps are followed”), (8) “black-artist sipping” (since “there is no neutrality when it comes to supporting black artists, which means failing to enjoy black artists while you enjoy this moment—a book in hand or some music in the background—is just a mask for hating them”), (9) not-equal-but-equitable sharing (since “some of us have deeper histories of victimization and so deserve more, while other have deeper histories of privilege and so deserve less”);
the white HR-rep who, after taking the time to give a meaningful stare at each black person in the room, commences the meeting on the importance of diversity quotas by “seeking forgiveness for any neurological trauma” her “whiteness might have caused in the past or”—her voice extra soothing to project empathy—“might be causing in the present and will likely cause in the future”;
the white car salesman who, wearing the yellow wristband of BLM and a button of white burden (“Undoing Racism Begins With Me”), refuses to push luxury vehicles onto black customers (in hopes “never to participate in the exploitation of the financially vulnerable”) and whose business card states under his name “White, privileged, and sorry (but desperate to learn)”;
the white political candidate on the debate stage who, after her national-anthem kneel in protest of the fact that “the racial group with the least institutional power in this bald-eagle hellscape has never gotten its rightful opportunity to run things,” denounces her own whiteness as “a disease in need of eradication,” while her black opponent stands beside her in discomfort clear behind a stoic facade;
the white anchorman who, acknowledging the euro-centric origins of both the Fahrenheit and Celsius scale, finally takes a stand and delivers his temperature forecast in qualitative terms (“which results in audible applause from cameramen and staff outside of the live shot”);
the white mayor who in a live townhall message says, in what results in finger-snapping whoops too much for him to continue, “I have the distinct honor to come before you and say I actually lost white population in my community”;
the white colonel of the USAF Civil Air Patrol who insists that all branches of the military “need to stop hiring white people, especially white males, if we are going to honor the principles of inclusion and diversity as stated in Ibram X. Kendi’s How to Be an Antiracist, a remarkable book that really opened my eyes to the problem of whiteness in all sectors of this country: from the west wing to west point”;
the white butcher who, still in his bloody apron, goes off on a TikTok rant about how exhausted he is dealing with “the constant flood of ignorant whites” who continue to ask “‘What meats are native to the area?’, a problematic question since it involves racist decisions of who does and who does not belong”;
the white news correspondent who, on grounds that “it has only been two days since the mother of three was last seen,” mocks—as a case of “missing white woman hysteria”—the volunteer fire department’s decision to participate in the search effort (instead of staying another day at the BLM protest);
the white museum curator who, “in light of the BLM protests around the world,” feels “compelled to denounce” the once-revered painting, which depicts a Kalenjin marriage ceremony, as “the worrisome and illegitimate acquisition of a white gaze,” claiming the artist’s own diary entry about the painting (“a deep tribute to the beautiful people of an East African community”) was “at best, cope for having engaged in poaching and, at worst, a willful lie”;
the white mother (known in the community for spearheading the program “Reparations by Gift Card”) who at a PTA meeting takes a stand in her “Decolonize Cafeterias” t-shirt and—after announcing her pronouns, and that she is “a white millennial transmasculine femme survivor of acute and complex trauma who happens to be nonbinary, mostly able-bodied, neurodivergent, obsessive compulsive, chronically ill, culturally Jewish, unitarian universalist, nonmonogamous, demiromantic, and above all archenemy of white supremacy”—demands that white bread be eliminated as an option (“It’s just too damn white, too damn Leave It to Beaver, for our children!”);
the white “antiracist conductor” who, smelling of expensive diffuser oils and eager to “sacrifice as many chairs as possible for the greater good," insists (from beneath a George-Floyd scarf) that, “aside from scrapping blind auditions altogether, there is no way to rectify the imbalance, the legacy of white hegemony, that has orchestras looking so pasty”;
the white greenskeeper who—if only as a “symbolic gesture against the white supremacist impetus to suppress (chop down and even poison) black bodies in its goal for monocrop homogeneity”—vows, in his “Journalism is Activism” t-shirt, to let the weeds (beautiful, strong, natural, diverse) grow on the campus lawns;
the white US Representative who, although admitting that one part of her would have liked to have seen the NFL replace “the National Anthem (representing racism)” with “the Black National Anthem (representing antiracism),” finds it best “all things considered” for the National Anthem to remain included since “otherwise we run the risk of forgetting, football being the quintessential American game, that America can never not be white supremacist as long as it is America, which is why—and this is what too many of us still have a hard time seeing—having an American flag on your porch or your truck is racist”;
the white “abolitionist judge” who comments “white people are guilty until proven innocent" in response to his own tweet that “‘blind justice’ and ‘equality under the law’ are white-power notions that interfere with the equity goals of an antiracist (and so reparation-based) system of law,” one demanding “emergency measures (such as a moratorium on the 14th Amendment, and other guarantees of equal protection) so that we can reduce the number of black incarceration”;
the white bishop who—after reminding parishioners to “say something if you witness any violation of our safe space (since, after all, praying white supremacists are nevertheless white supremacists)”—vows, banging the church podium with his fist, to switch to black depictions of Christ (describing the move as “one small thing to help decolonize white normativity in the church, which is just so G-damn white!”);
the white ethicist who—infamous for pushing her so-called “Hippocratic Oath for White People” (first, do no harm to black bodies)—writes, in a major philosophy journal, “moral equals ought to be treated equally, but white citizens (as complicit beneficiaries of systemic racism at least tacit perpetrators of the white-world’s total war on black bodies) are not morally equal to black citizens, who deserve a freer pass under the law to do whatever it takes to push back the white supremacy that unfortunately can never go into remission while America remains America”;
the white celebrities—the majority wearing baggy beanies—who, in a by-no-means-cringey PSA about “the malignancy of white supremacy,” pledge back to back in a viral collage “never to bring more white babies, more wicked heirs of ill-gotten privileges, into the world”;
the white university president sending out an email reminding students as well as staff and faculty that, especially since “unacknowledged antiblack assumptions infect every US institution and every white heart,” it is crucial “never to question or debate the lived experiences of black peers and colleagues”;
the white pediatrician who, “especially given the centuries of medical exploitation and experimentation on black bodies,” writes an open letter declaring that, as her “small contribution to curbing the spread of the unfortunately undefeatable cancer of systemic racism,” she will no longer carry out merely the effete acts demanded by her medical group (like drilling into parental heads the essentialness of exposing children to diversity-friendly media), but rather will do something “more tangible” (namely, giving preferential treatment to black babies, “and not merely when it comes to vaccination scheduling”);
the white professor of American literature who, as a condition of continued employment after having said in class that she admired Twain (an author implicated in the sin of slavery merely by having characters that use the word “nigger”), is according to the university’s Committee for Equity “hereby barred
(1) from wearing the color red (garments, makeup, and so forth) since students report feeling unsafe seeing it set against the pasty pallor of oppression;
(2) from making any comments that could be construed as related to black culture;
(3) from starting university emails with anything but “In acknowledgment of my inherent biases”;
(4) from assigning any white author too unseparated from colonialism and slavery, whether by having benefited from such horrors, or having bad actor ancestors or descendants, or having stories set in Western locations without due focus on how those locations are problematic, or so on (consult the British Library’s antiracist blacklist for starters).”
