Thursday, August 22, 2013

A Comprehensive List of All the Things White Men Can’t See

By: Katie Heindl

Their privilege, cars smaller than a sedan, ethnic food very well, the soothing qualities of Tom Hanks, that you’re kidding, that Amy Pohler is not for them, their inherent menace, the atrocities they have committed against humanity over the large-ish swath of “all time”, that rap is not for them, your eyes glazing over, that we are having more fun without them, anything very clearly over the age of 40 due to rampant optic degeneration (typically), their name not on the list to the place they just showed up to, the concept that being called out for something does not get to equate the panic associated with the visceral knowledge of your own imminent death, that you don’t care, the terror of Chris Andersen and how aptly the belligerence of his neck tattoos summarize our problems with them, that you literally do not care, the tops of their bald ass heads, Phil Lynott, every single nuance of a woman, the difference between ochre and goldenrod, us watching them when they think we aren’t and being the fucking weirdest, quinoa, how much a freezing terror they are when they yell and the power this has to hold one hostage in the immediate shared space, apparently their own feet because they are the only demographic responsible for the popularization of those sporty hiking shoes, anyone behind them (literally or empathetically) at a show, anyone behind them (literally or empathetically) in life, a mirror when they wear hats backwards, ghosts, all the space they invade, how mad you are, your inherent rights as being fundamentally and intrinsically different than theirs, how absolutely irrelevant their take and inevitable loud opinion on marginalized or oppressed peoples’ rights n’ plights are, their sexualization of everything, what comes after Rocky Mountain Cold Certified on a can of Coors Light, that Woody Allen is a loser, that nobody wants to come to their art show about putting dirt on an oversized xerox of a photograph they left in the sun for 40+hrs, how tired we are, their rising sign, our perseverance, that they are all the things that Chief Keef doesn’t like, Freddie Mercury, that we don’t need their policing or protection, the middle fingers women are constantly flipping on ‘em in our brains, how much more insular their insular jokes get when they laud them around in public, how bummed we are, their really appalling posture, their really appalling posturing, in most cases their feet after 40, how weird a move it is to stand with both hands grasping support poles to either side of you on the bus/train/any transit so if I fell backwards you’d invariably be embracing me but this ties into obliviousness of their capacities for space invasion so, the staggering statistics that they are the biggest e-bike owning demographic on earth, Quentin Tarantino’s perma-wet smirk and how it is basically them or alternately: Ashton Kutcher as Steve Jobs, nobody cares about their smoothie, the violent intensity of our eyes when we are using them to mouth “get the fuck away from me”, how they are ruining everything (still), that nothing else on the planet is as scary as they are, the gross spectacle of their never not loud ass speaking volume, that’s there’s no such thing as being defiant when you are the ones in charge of fucking everything, brunch, that there are better ways of allocating your guilt than play acting at left leaning activism, we really do think you’re going to kill us one day, they pick the worst shit to go on pizza, ‘Get From Round Me’ as a feminist anthem, the smile on our faces as we imagine blasting them the fuck into space, that podcasts are stupid, that nobody is here to placate them because we are at our fucking jobs and we’re your coworkers you idiots, that they never should have stopped skateboarding, that after hearing their excuses for our whole entire lives we can’t help how now everything sounds like an excuse, $40 for a single candle, they eat like they are dying, unless you are our partner we don’t want to hold your hand and even then...even then..., we’re okay sitting here all day or maybe lying on the floor really we got our magazines or book maybe and we got some type of drink and we got some music and there is nothing you could possibly do to enhance this honest, their own faces when you tell them they are wrong, that there’s enough stand-up comedians now none of you need to become one anymore we’re good for a while maybe our whole lives plus what do they even have to complain about, themselves in the dark behind us late at night on the street transformed into a wererapists, summer duvets, is that some type of fucking joke re: everything, that being perpetrators of typically all mass violence sort of shoots your credibility when lecturing on violence, Ciara in the ‘Ride’ video is still not for them, spitting in the street is gross it’s even grosser in a garbage can inside somewhere, their literary heroes suck, idolizing a professional athlete in 2013 is kind of gay, being homophobic in 2013 is the gayest thing you can do, systematic oppression isn't really a thing you can joke about on Twitter, our bewilderment at scaring the shit out of you so much and so often, Pitchfork is for virgins, that our eyes aren't closed/we're not narcoleptic/we enjoy the full facilities of sight when they 100% stare, they have shitty problem solving skills (i.e. The Crusades, everything ever done to Africa, American Indian Wars, The Civil War, WWI and II, Vietnam and just a couple more!), that they do indeed possess the inherent ability to one day chose to forgo their own problematic nature and it could be today, they could've cured a lot of shit by now instead of being pussies and ignoring it, that everyone else has the right not to "be cool" with them for a while, that they are forever in the way, themselves running, being a hypocrite twenty-four sev isn’t “doing you”, the slight tremor in our jaw from where we clench it for the millionth time after they’ve said something benignly sexist but irreparably damaging and how it chisels away so one day probably all our lower jaws will just fall off for good and we’ll be ghouls to scare the shit out of them at every turn.