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wait, wait, come back

I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY

The scene opened on the Flathead, where a half-blood “brave” is in love with a white girl; the heroine of the story. He dares not make a declaration of his affection, because of his Indian blood. He curses his own mother for this heritage, hates his American parent for the sake of the girl of his heart.

He deems himself beneath her; not good enough for her. But to cap the absurdity of the story, he weds the white “princess” and slaves for her the rest of his life.

Our history is beast theater. Our human critter experience is corrupted.

Our education and our highest varmint level media products give us our political and social creature viewpoints.

The goal of destroying the white race is simply so desirable, it boggles the mind trying to understand how anyone could possibly object to it. Mainstream depictions of post-apocalyptic survival largely center on the archetypal figure of the male savior or hero, and advance a familiar patriarchal instrumentation of women’s bodies as vessels for the survival of the human species. We will still have residual white males that must be dealt with, but I am confident that we’ve won. But what alternate stories might we tell about the end, and how might a queer framework reshape our apocalyptic narratives?

The proposal to think queerly about the apocalypse is not an attempt to rescue apocalypse stories from the insidious reproduction of hegemonic relations; rather it is an opportunity to consider what queer approaches to survival at the end might offer to our rethinking of the present.

So what tools do we need for queer survival?