A lot of people have been comparing the rule of Wokesters to colonialism, America being run by people essentially foreign who think they mean well:
Z brought forth this insight:
Modern America increasingly feels like colonialism. The people in charge are not only alien to us, but they are relatively unknown. A real flesh and blood character with a genuine backstory sticks out like a sore thumb. Even Trump, with all of his flaws, was a real person, which is why he was such an oddity. The overclass has become alien, in part, because it is now run by poorly drawn characters in a poorly written melodrama. America is colonialism, the mini-series.
I think these guys are on to something. In fact they have inspired me to verse.
The greatest poet of European colonialism was of course Rudyard Kipling. One of his best efforts, first published in 1899, was addressed to the people of the U.S.A., exhorting us to colonize the Philippines, which we had acquired in the Spanish-American War. The title of that poem was "The White Man's Burden."
If our present cultural revolution is indeed a kind of colonialism, it shouldn't be too hard to adapt Kipling's lines to it. Here is my attempt, title: "The Wokester's Burden." Ahem:
Take up the wokester's burden —
Go forth and teach the rules
Of Critical Race Theory
In colleges and schools;
To corporate employees
Whose bosses fear the fate
Of being sued if workers show
They harbor thoughts of hate.
Take up the wokester's burden —
Armed with the sacred books:
DiAngelo and Kendi.
Fear not the scornful looks.
Make white folk beg forgiveness
For centuries of sin —
Oppression and supremacy
O'er those of darker skin.
Take up the wokester's burden —
You won't lack for supports.
The White House is behind you,
And Congress and the courts;
The bureaucrats, the billionaires,
The media and—it's true —
The FBI, the CIA,
The military too!
Take up the wokester's burden —
Let not your heart be weak.
When jeering racists mock you
Just turn the other cheek.
History is on your side:
There's no way you can fail.
Deplorables don't stand a chance —
We'll put them all in jail.
You can hear me read it on this week's Radio Derb below. The actual poem starts at 7m1s
