The Western world desperately needs new mating rituals and new social constructs of romance, and Robin DiAngelo, author of White Fragility, has given us a touching new deconstruction of the courtship ritual that, until now, has been called “boy meets girl.”
This new and exciting instruction manual is Girl Meets Boy: A Critical Race Theory Love Story.
Subtitled “How You Can Strive to be Less White in Love,” DiAngelo’s postmodern and fully woke retelling uses Critical Race Theory as its foundation, offering young lovers of all races a brand new way of thinking about the practicum and tradition of getting to know one another.
Editor’s Note: The Sacramento Brie wants to stress that, although Ms. DiAngelo liberally sprinkles real-world examples of the new “sweet nothings” that lovers can whisper to each other, we do not imply, state, or allege that anyone is guilty of shooting anyone.
The first step in any courtship proceeding is to meet the object of your affection, and there is no better place than a limousine outside your crib at 3 a.m.
If you’re white, DiAngelo says, access to a limousine denotes privilege, and equity demands that you borrow your friend’s 1989 Chevy Nova to continue the ritual. The author sensibly offers an abundance of exceptions for melanin-challenged lovers, and her thoughtful introduction suggests that, when guns are required, white lovers employ BIPOC gun owners as their proxy.
“The girl should be in the front seat, where she belongs,” DiAngelo writes, “while the boy should be in the back seat with a member of his armed personal security team.”
The next step of the ritual is to have an argument, and “respect” is always a good choice of topics. The girl insists that respect is her natural right, and if she wants sex the boy must offer something of sufficient value, like college tuition. The exchange does not imply that the girl is committed to sex or to the next stage of courtship.
“The language of courtship is important,” DiAngelo tells girls, “so choose your words carefully. For instance, do not say ‘show me the money.’ Instead, say something more romantic, like ‘park that big Mack truck right in this little garage.'”
DiAngelo also demonstrates her deep understanding of the male psyche, acknowledging that genetic sexism will cause the boy to accept the girl’s sexual demands no matter how much it costs him.
“For boys, acting less white means opening a college trust fund for the girl and not raping her even if you’ve both consumed a fifth of Henny and smoked an ounce of weed,” DiAngelo writes. “For anti-racist, pro-feminist POC who have been systematically denied the college experience, acceptable responses include guns.”
The girl, more adept at conflict resolution, gets out of the car and starts to walk home.
If the boy is white, he instructs his proxy to shoot the girl. If black, he shoots the girl himself.
If the neighbors are sufficiently anti-racist in the true Marxist sense, they will not call the police. But, to her credit, DiAngelo acknowledges that most neighbors do call the police because even anti-racists hate gunfire outside their homes.
The next phase of the postmodern courtly love ritual is crucial for the girl, because she must control the boy’s affections if she also wants to control the narrative. And controlling the narrative is paramount.
The boy doesn’t know it yet, but at this point he’s screwed no matter what, so DiAngelo sensibly ignores him for the rest of the book. (The author also includes a lengthy footnote reminding the reader that nothing prevents the girl and boy from switching roles, and that the girl has every right to shoot the boy regardless of what role she’s playing.)
Before the police arrive, DiAngelo says the the girl should tell her side of the story, making sure to give witnesses a Trigger Warning that her postmodern and anti-racist description will include the N word even if she and the boy are white.
“I’m in the front seat, this n**** in the backseat,” says DiAngelo’s suggested storyline. “I don’t wanna argue no more. I get out. I’m walking away. This n****, from out the backseat of the car, start shooting me.”
When the cops show up, the girl should change her story to protect the boy (or his proxy) and to retain control of the narrative.
“Soon as the police tell us all get out the muthaf***** car, the police is really aggressive. You want me to tell the laws that we got a gun in the car, so they can shoot all of us up? N****, I’m scared. It’s a f***** helicopter over us and some mo’ sh**.”
DiAngelo also says the girl should tell police that her wounds were caused by broken glass, so they will arrest the boy for carrying a concealed weapon instead of attempted murder.
The rest of the book deals with the less direct aspects of postmodern courtship, which are nevertheless still crucial to the success of feminism and anti-racism.
- Boy lies to media, says girl hit him, and that’s why he shot her, and we should try to understand the reason why he shot her for no reason.
- Girl gets tired of boy’s lies, goes on Instagram and tells world boy shot her. “Since y’all hoes so worried ’bout it, yes, this n**** shot me. You shot me. And you got your publicist and your people going to these blogs lying and sh**. Stop lying. Why lie?”
- Boy due in court on Oct. 13.
- Girl and second more popular girl sing a song called “Wet A** P****” that instantly goes to #1 on the Billboard charts.
- Democratic Party asks more popular girl to interview Democrat presidential nominee about virology, health care, higher education, and police brutality.
- Everyone says only racists will think Robin DiAngelo is full of of sh**.
- Even Matt Taibbi says Robin DiAngelo is full of sh**.