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408 pages, Paperback
Published July 31, 2023
Shavonda started texting on her phone. “You know what. Come back in a couple hours when I’m done here.” She finished her text. “We need to pop yo white frosh cherry ass with some social justice.”
“Okay. See you then.” Walking back to his dorm, Danny replayed their exchange in his head. Had he said anything stupid? Had he looked as naïve and virginal to her as he had felt? “I like you,” she had said. I like you. “Pop yo white frosh cherry ass.” Cherry ass.
“Hey, y’all,” Shavonda greeted. “This is my new bitch, Danny Ranes. Pronouns, he/him.”
“Did you know that the Bible was written by Jews? Even the New Testament. Funny how Jews keep popping up in positions of power in institutions of oppression. But I won’t go down that rabbit hole right now. The point here is that Western civilization based on the Bible is the hegemonic power that oppresses blacks with systemic racism.
“Awright, so the world is divided up into two kinds of people: oppressor and oppressed. Now, the oppressor is the white man. And the oppressed is everybody else: minorities, LGBTQ+, the disabled, women. To get ahead here at the university, to get special preference and stuff, you gotta be an intersection of more than one marginalized minority. Think of it like a hierarchy or pyramid of status. Only the top is for the people who are the most victimized. The more minority groups you a part of, the higher up on the pyramid you are. So I’m black, which puts me almost on the top. But I’m also a woman, and women are almost as discriminated against as blacks. So that’s like one plus one equals two, right?”
Shavonda gestured with her hand as if it was ascending a pyramid. “Okay, I’m also bisexual, which makes me even higher on the pyramid. Two plus one equals three.” Her hand gestured up one more level.
Danny blurted out, “You’re bisexual?”
“You got a problem with that?”
“No. I just…” He started to have a harder time following her. Images of her kissing a woman assaulted his mind.
“Now, bisexual isn’t as many points as being trans,” Shavonda continued. “Trans is probably the biggest victim of oppression. So, like, if I was a black trans disabled lesbian Muslim, I would be, like, Queen Victim Bitch. Nobody could touch me. I could do whatever the hell I wanted. And if anybody criticized me, I could scorch they ass and get ‘em cancelled. Cause some people mo’ equal than others.
“But back to you. You, my dear Anglo ivory cracka, are on the bottom of the pyramid. White, male, Christian, heteronormative, cisgender. You are the posterchild of oppression. You get all the blame.”
Now it was his turn not to wait for an answer. “Dr. Bathory, I have stated and the professors and students who support this proposal have agreed that Western civilization has many faults we should not ignore. In fact, we should point them out. But the Greeks and the Romans, the Enlightenment thinkers and the Judeo-Christian theologians have shaped the course of history and provided the foundation for the very world we now inhabit. Western civilization brought us individual rights and religious freedom. It has produced liberal democracy and free market capitalism that, contrary to your objection, has brought most of the earth out of life-threatening poverty. It has given us education, knowledge of science, reason, and the rule of law.”
“Dr. Gunness, thank you for your lecture. I just had a question. You mentioned the racism and sexism of Western thinkin’. But in many Middle Eastern countries today, homosexuals are thrown off buildings while women are subjugated to men and forced to cover their identities with burkas. So, wouldn’t y’all call that problematic?”
Dr. Gunness’s smiling face turned serious. “I would not say all Eastern cultures are perfect. But they are nowhere near as oppressive as the West’s misogynistic, homophobic, and transphobic persecution of women, gays and trans folks.”
The student would not let it go. “But if we don’t accept the traditional categories of man and woman, how would we even know what a woman is?”
“A woman is anyone who identifies as woman.”
“But what is that? What is a woman?”
The professor’s face turned from serious to malicious. He placed his large, black trans hand on the petite girl’s shoulder and spoke with hushed venom. “If you are trying to misgender me, little twat, I would be happy to take your far-right-wing, stochastic terrorist, little white ass out back and show you just how a real woman responds to that hate speech.”
They smashed their lips against each other. They passionately probed each other’s mouths. He felt the urgency to move hard, fast, and forcefully. He wanted her so badly.
Then, she pulled away and pushed the piece of paper into his hand. “Hurry up and sign so I can deflower yo’ ass.”
Danny looked at the paper. It was a university-approved Sexual Consent Contract. With blanks already filled in, it read, “I, Danny Ranes, declare that I am at this time not under the influence of alcohol, drugs, or medication and agree to engage in consensual sex with Shavonda Charleston. By initialing, I agree to engage in all or some of the following consensual acts.”
A list with checkboxes followed, all checked in by Shavonda and already initialed by her. These included kissing, sexual fondling, oral copulation, vaginal intercourse with an FDA-approved condom, and anal intercourse.
The final section of the contract read, “I further declare that this agreement is of my own free will. I am not being coerced or sexually harassed in any way. I do not intend to change my mind before the sex act or acts are over. However, if I do, it is further understood that when I say the words CODE RED, my partner agrees to STOP INSTANTLY!”[19]
“Okay, bye.” He ended the call but pretended to still be speaking to his parents. “Oh, and one more thing, I’m fucking a beautiful, black goddess.”
As they left the exhibit, it struck Danny how incredibly unoriginal and derivative everything was. It was like a political campaign that ripped off other famous cultural expressions and piggybacked on them. Is this what politics did to art, cheapening its message like a tick sucking its host’s blood? Is this what the new generation of artists were, just parasites without an original thought?