Let’s do a hypothetical science experiment.
First things first: gotta don the spiffy-white lab coat. This is science, people. Jesse Pinkman said it: “Science!”
Now that you’re dressed for the part, go out and find two sheltered white guys who are adept at inserting the word “successful” into every conversation. Like…every conversation.
You know the type. The bro-smirks give them away.
If you need to summon a few, just yell out, “Elon Musk wouldn’t have accomplished jack shit without his folks emerald money providing him with a start.”
Within seconds, you should find yourself surrounded by at least a half-dozen caucasian males, ranging anywhere in age from twenty-one to around sixty-fivish, shouting out diatribes that contain phrases like “participation trophies” and “communism is bad” and “pulling oneself up by the bootstraps.”
Choose two of these guys and tell them that you need their expertise for a research project. Don’t worry. The word “expertise” will hook ’em.
Put each one in his own little, bare-walled conference room and ask him to have a seat at the squarish table in the middle.
Next, pitch the following question to both and prompt them to write down their responses on the notepads in front of them.
“What does the word ‘successful’ mean to you?”
Once you finish stating the question, shut their conference room doors. Let the two of them spill their thoughts onto paper. Give it at least an hour.
After taking the notepads, it’s time to begin the second phase of this not-very-clinical clinical trial.
Give each test subject’s written thoughts to the other test subject. Their pages of thoughts addressing this “successful” concept, let the other test subject read them.
Only…don’t say what the writing is about. Keep its subject to yourself. Just ask for their two cents.
According to my hypothesis, it won’t be long before one or both of the test subjects starts screaming in their most grating “I DEMAND TO SPEAK TO THE MANAGER” voices.
When you enter their respective conference rooms, the test subjects will let you know how insulted they are. They are incensed. Like…pissy-incensed incensed.
They will state that whatever it is that you forced them to read—the writer of this filth sounds like a Jew. You know…those people.
And at least one of these test subjects will scrunch up their faces in distaste when the word “Jew” comes out of their mouth. They’ll rattle off what triggers them—that the man who wrote these words sounds sneaky, underhanded, money-obsessed, conniving, weasel-like, back-stabbing, two-faced—you know…Jewish.
As soon as the moment of pissy-incensedness leaves the test subjects and they can once again think clearly, one or both should start to tear up. Moments like this trigger feelings of red, white, and blue nostalgia and prompt them to remember those white men who built this country.
Next, depending on their ages, they’ll start to recall memories of their dads, or granddads, or great-grand-dads.
You know, the ones who fought in Dubya-Dubya-Two.
Through a river of crocodile tears, they’ll blubber about how their dads, granddads, or great-granddads fought in that war to save the world from Harpo’s socialism.
After you bring a new box of tissues so they can wipe away those faux tears, they’ll continue with the nostalgia and military-love. The warrior-blood that ran through their dad or granddad or great-grandad’s veins runs through their veins and this is why they never, ever, ever once considered joining up themselves.
Like Donald Trump, they believe that only suckers join the military these days. As much as they love the military, they think they’re too good to personally serve. White men like Tucker Carlson don’t serve in the armed forces, but feel genuine concern about women serving in their dead relatives’ armed forces.
And it all makes perfect sense.
It’s like their of love of money and compulsive desire to tell others how “successful” they are.
If you’re not one of them, you won’t understand.
White supremacists looooooove thinking that, no matter what, they get to be right.
And yes: the “successful” guys are all about white supremacy.
As full of shit as this crowd sounds, they still pose a threat to America.
Willful ignorance about the world around them and other humans’ circumstances makes some white guys feel rich, like the billionaires who hate their guts.
Riffing off of earlier posts:
• Bros: America’s New Jews
• Don’t get mad at them. They’re just being white.
• Showers of gold.
• The Donald Trump Tax.
• Open letter to a selfie of my drunk-ass self, taken on August 11th, 2001.
I write fiction and have two dark comedies available, Fearkiller (Volume 1) and Notes from Trillionaire Island: Fearkiller (Volume 2), as well as Revolutionizer Alpha, the first book in a sci-fi series. I also wrote a story about God. It was weird, but then I decided to make the story and its sequel free. And all of the sudden, it didn’t seem as weird. Writing about God is much less weird when you write about God without charging money for it. Here’s my professional site, my trade. Follow me on Medium.