Dear Reader (particularly whichever one of the Gateses gets custody of the tracking chips coursing through my veins),
Here’s some good news: The CIA has a proud Latina woman, who can change diapers with one hand, who proudly tells the world, “I’m a cisgender millennial who’s been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder. I am intersectional, but my existence is not a box-checking exercise,” because “I refuse to internalize misguided patriarchal ideas of what a woman can or should be.”
I have many thoughts about this, most of them critical. Indeed, on another day, I could bang out a couple thousand harsh words on this with ease. But while I wouldn’t say I’m in a look-on-the-bright-side mood, I think it might be worthwhile to look at this from another perspective.
Historically, one of the great things about America is that our culture is remarkably good at bourgeoise-ifying radicals and radicalism. I wrote about one example of this after I visited the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Rock ‘n’ roll, punk rock, heavy metal, and hip hop all entered the culture like Viking pillagers sacking a seaside English village. And in a relatively short period of time, rock anthems are used to sell sneakers or soap or self-lubricating catheters. Gangster rappers go from talking about cop killing and busting caps in the nether-regions of their enemies to starring in sitcoms and game shows, or to cooking frittatas with Martha Stewart when they’re not complaining about their taxes.