There is a great amount of interest in this year’s presidential
elections, as everybody seems to recognize that our next president
has to be a lot better than George Bush. The Democrats are riding
high with two groundbreaking candidates — a woman and an
African-American — while the conservative Republicans are in a
quandary about their party’s nod to a quasi-liberal maverick, John
McCain.
Each candidate is carefully pandering to a smorgasbord of
special-interest groups, ranging from gay, lesbian and transgender
people to children of illegal immigrants to working mothers to
evangelical Christians.
There is one group no one has recognized, and it is the group that
will decide the election: the Angry White Man. The Angry White Man
comes from all economic backgrounds, from dirt-poor to filthy rich.
He represents all geographic areas in America, from urban
sophisticate to rural redneck, deep South to mountain West, left
Coast to Eastern Seaboard.
His common traits are that he isn’t looking for anything from anyone
— just the promise to be able to make his own way on a level playing
field. In many cases, he is an independent businessman and employs
several people. He pays more than his share of taxes and works hard.
The victimhood syndrome buzzwords — “disenfranchised,”
“marginalized” and “voiceless” — don’t resonate with him. “Press
‘one’ for English” is a curse-word to him. He’s used to picking up
the tab, whether it’s the company Christmas party, three sets of
braces, three college educations or a beautiful wedding.
He believes the Constitution is to be interpreted literally, not as
a “living document” open to the whims and vagaries of a panel of
judges who have never worked an honest day in their lives.
The Angry White Man owns firearms, and he’s willing to pick up a gun
to defend his home and his country. He is willing to lay down his
life to defend the freedom and safety of others, and the thought of
killing someone who needs killing really doesn’t bother him.
The Angry White Man is not a metrosexual, a homosexual or a victim.
Nobody like him drowned in Hurricane Katrina — he got his people
together and got the hell out, then went back in to rescue those too
helpless and stupid to help themselves, often as a police officer, a
National Guard soldier or a volunteer firefighter.
His last name and religion don’t matter. His background might be
Italian, English, Polish, German, Slavic, Irish, or Russian, and he
might have Cherokee, Mexican, or Puerto Rican mixed in, but he
considers himself a white American.
He’s a man’s man, the kind of guy who likes to play poker, watch
football, hunt white-tailed deer, call turkeys, play golf, spend a
few bucks at a strip club once in a blue moon, change his own oil
and build things. He coaches baseball, soccer and football teams and
doesn’t ask for a penny. He’s the kind of guy who can put an
addition on his house with a couple of friends, drill an oil well,
weld a new bumper for his truck, design a factory and publish books.
He can fill a train with 100,000 tons of coal and get it to the
power plant on time so that you keep the lights on and never know
what it took to flip that light switch.
Women either love him or hate him, but they know he’s a man, not a
dishrag. If they’re looking for someone to walk all over, they’ve
got the wrong guy. He stands up straight, opens doors for women and
says “Yes, sir” and “No, ma’am.”
He might be a Republican and he might be a Democrat; he might be a
Libertarian or a Green. He knows that his wife is more emotional
than rational, and he guides the family in a rational manner.
He’s not a racist, but he is annoyed and disappointed when people of
certain backgrounds exhibit behavior that typifies the worst
stereotypes of their race. He’s willing to give everybody a fair
chance if they work hard, play by the rules and learn English.
Most important, the Angry White Man is pissed off. When his job site
becomes flooded with illegal workers who don’t pay taxes and his
wages drop like a stone, he gets righteously angry. When his job
gets shipped overseas, and he has to speak to some incomprehensible
idiot in India for tech support, he simmers. When Al Sharpton comes
on TV, leading some rally for reparations for slavery or some such
nonsense, he bites his tongue and he remembers. When a child gets
charged with carrying a concealed weapon for mistakenly bringing a
penknife to school, he takes note of who the local idiots are in
education and law enforcement.
He also votes, and the Angry White Man loathes Hillary Clinton. Her
voice reminds him of a shovel scraping a rock. He recoils at the
mere sight of her on television. Her very image disgusts him, and he
cannot fathom why anyone would want her as their leader. It’s not
that she is a woman. It’s that she is who she is. It’s the liberal
victim groups she panders to, the “poor me” attitude that she
represents, her inability to give a straight answer to an honest
question, his tax dollars that she wants to give to people who
refuse to do anything for themselves.
There are many millions of Angry White Men. Four million Angry White
Men are members of the National Rifle Association, and all of them
will vote against Hillary Clinton, just as the great majority of
them voted for George Bush.
He hopes that she will be the Democratic nominee for president in
2008, and he will make sure that she gets beaten like a drum.