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This must account, at least in part, for the post-election hysteria among
the social justice folk and their mentors at the Prog end of politics,
especially those bent on suppressing or eliminating men. Of course, it’s only
been the last year or so that their long-running animus became explicit,
their writ against white men in particular. Before, it was all sub rosa,
really just a byproduct of the campaign to uplift women, people-of-color, and
the many theoretical gender categories vying for supremacy of the moral high
ground. Hillary was expected to drive the final wooden stake through
masculinity’s demonic heart… but something went wrong… and she was disarmed…
and now this cheeto-headed monster in a red necktie is the president-elect.
There must have been a clerical error.
Donald Trump was about as far from my sense of the male ideal as anything
short of the Golem. His accomplishments in life — developing hotels that look
like bowling trophies and producing moronic TV shows — seem as flimsy as the
plastic golden heraldry plastered on his casinos. His knowledge of the world
appears to be on the level of a fifth grader. He can barely string together
two coherent sentences off-teleprompter. I was as astonished as anyone by the
disclosure of his “grab them by the pussy” courtship advice to little Billy
Bush. In my experience, it seemed a very poor strategy for scoring some
action, to say the least. In a better world — perhaps even the America he
imagines to have been great once — Donald Trump would be a kind of freak
among men, a joke, a parody of masculinity.
But then consider the freak show that American culture has become in our
time and it shouldn’t be surprising that a cartoon nation has ended up with a
cartoon of a man as head-of-state. In fact, I doubt that there even is any
remaining collective idea of what it means to be a man here in terms of the
ancient virtues. Honor? Dignity? Patience? Prudence? Fuhgeddabowdit. The
cultural memory of all that has been erased. The apotheosis of Trump may
remind a few people of all that has been lost, but we’re starting from nearly
zero in the recovery of it.
Consider also the caliber of the male persons who stepped into the arena
last spring when the election spectacle kicked off. Only Bernie Sanders came
close to representing honorable manhood — in the form of your irascible old
“socialist” uncle from Brooklyn — while the rest of them acted like Elmer
Fudd, Mighty Mouse, and Woody Woodpecker. And then when the primary elections
ended, Bernie drove a wooden stake into his own heart in a bizarre act of
political hara-kiri.
Hillary Clinton’s campaign was engineered from the get-go to complete the
demolition of American manhood in what turned out to be a reckless
miscalculation. “I’m with her (and against him).” Too much in recent American
history has been against “him” and a great many of the hims out there began
to notice that they were being squeezed out of the nation’s life like
watermelon seeds. Most particularly, men were no longer considered necessary
in whatever remained of the family unit. This went against the truth of the
matter, of course, because nothing has been more harmful to everyday life
than the absence of fathers. And this was connected to the secondary calamity
of men losing their roles in the workplace — and the loss of self-respect
connected with that. So the election awakened some sleeping notion that life
was wildly out of balance in America. And being so out of balance, it swung
wildly in the other direction.
The corrective to all this awaits a fiery passage through the coming
tribulation that is about to start in the realm of money. You can be sure
that many of the current popular assumptions about how the world works are
about to change. It will present opportunities for men to start acting like
men again — for instance, being on the side of the truth instead of reflexive
mendacity. Some real men could emerge from the smoldering rubble and
begin a from-the-ground-up reassembly of the male spirit. Trump may end up
being little more than a broken monument amid the rubble, a sort of golden
calf the people constructed in desperation as they sought a way out of the
wilderness.
But the blow-up in banking and finance could represent a final detonation
of manhood, since so much testosterone is sequestered in the dark corners of
Wall Street and the money centers like it. And when that happens men might be
in disrepute for a thousand years.
* * *
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