A new paradigm is emerging
I don’t know about these old white men anymore. There once was a time when nothing said America like being old, white, and powerful — you know the “good ole days” when you could make a fortune murdering natives and enslaving people, a time when every woman’s no was a potential yes.
Privilege is a birthright.
And privilege was an inheritance. Passed down from generation to generation. Old. White. Men. Yes. They were the mighty. They were the powerful.
Their privilege ran deep and long. So deep and for so long that even somebody as incompetent as Les Miles benefited. Imagine good ole Les, bumbling head coach of LSU’s football team. AKA overseer of a bunch of black bodies and renowned grass eater. There he is, running off the field after blowing another game. What was going through his head?
Was he thinking about getting fired?
Was he thinking about meeting his wife for dinner? No. He was thinking about his usual routine — going home to try to have sex with the babysitter. Will she put out tonight? Maybe. But if she refuses, he can just fire her and hire another one. The good ole days. Any sign of trouble, and LSU covered it up for him. The privilege was extended to many old white men in his position. You should google them. They were like invincible.
But nobody embodied old, white, and privileged like Donald Trump. Nobody. Believe me. Donald is the epitome, the standard for all to aspire. “One day I’m out grabbing p*ssy,” he once said, “next thing you know I’m president. Who could’ve ever thunk it. There I was though, in one tweet setting off bombs in a foreign country, and in another, telling three brown skinned women to go back to where they came from. It was awesome. I felt like my great grandfather. Somebody tried to tell me, Hey Donald, you know they’re from America, right? I just looked at him. I was like, Um…not our America.”
What a man. Kids went to school with Trumpy Bears in their book sacks. Dads packed Trump steaks in their lunch boxes. Old. White. Privileged. Call yourself an American? You had to be a white man.
Times are changing
But apparently times are changing. People have become more “sensitive” these days. Softer. We now find ourselves under the paradigm of a new generation. Cancel culture. All they want to do is cancel things they find offensive or no longer useful. And old white men have become a mixture of both the former and the latter. The fallout has been devastating. Twenty years ago, a white man could get a blow job in the Oval Office and still remain president. Now a days, New York governor Andrew Cuomo has to apologize for asking his assistant to play strip poker.
Their direct and dominant power is slowly being disassembled and diffused. Joy Reid said it best: an old white man today would probably give up all the tax cuts in the world just to be able to walk around and say the n-word in public.
A shame. Men who once personified the American Dream, now reduced to dreams. These days, they’re even bussed to seminars. The instructors teach how to be less white — by minorities of all people. Coca Cola is even in on it. Next thing you know, schools will require students to read about White Fragility. And the first thing a white man will be required to do after waking up in the morning is wash his face, look in the mirror, and apologize. Who wants to aspire to that? That’s not a dream. It’s a nightmare.
There were nights I often dreamt of becoming an old white man. Becoming one was the crowning achievement of our society, a position of power and privilege. But now, they don’t even have a monopoly on Mr. Potato Head, let alone Santa or Jesus. In its present condition, an old white man is not even a concept Michael Jackson or Sammy Sosa would find appealing. So, I hate to say it, but so long old white man. My dream has not been deferred. It is outright cancelled.