The New MAGA Hoods, The Same Old White Supremacy
I don’t know about you, but I prefer to see hate and racism out in the open.
I want it loud and clear, musky and odiferous, blunt and direct, without the superficial ornaments of dog whistles, palatable synonyms, snarky emojis, and subtle jokes.
Give it to me raw, pure, organic, 100% natural, without any additives or artificial coloring.
I want to be able to see it, smell it, hear it, touch it, and point to its odious ugliness and pathetic and fragile insecurity cosplaying as the alpha masculinity of the master race.
At my age, this openness simplifies life and reduces the mental and verbal gymnastics that is often required to convince my fellow Americans that white supremacy is alive and well, thriving and mainstream, and completely normalized by the modern GOP and its enablers.
I can’t be easily dismissed as a hysterical, angry, reactionary, (fill in your dismissive word choice) person of color who complains about a phantom racism that allegedly no longer exists because this country elected a Black man as President, who was nonetheless humiliated as a result of the “birther conspiracy” and remains the only Commander in Chief forced to show his birth certificate to prove that he, too, was a real American.
