A Ghost in the Machine

Share this post

Super #SJW Man Chapter 7

aghostinthemachine.substack.com
Super SJW Man: A Cancel-Culture Superhero (Satire)

Super #SJW Man Chapter 7

TEAM WOKE APPOINTS A CRACKHEAD AS DIRECTOR OF MINORITY OUTREACH

Daniel D
Jan 21
6
Share this post

Super #SJW Man Chapter 7

aghostinthemachine.substack.com

Super #SJW Man: a Cancel-Culture Superhero!

[These Super #SJW Man posts are chapters from a book originally published in 2019. For the table of contents and introduction, click here. The previous post was Chapter 6, in which Team Woke Trolls Twitter]

“We need more diversity,” said Super #SJW Man. “We hate cisgender white males, like us, so we need someone with melanin or someone with a vagina – or someone who doesn’t have a vagina but wishes he had one.”

Captain Wokeness nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got enough people like us. We need someone different. How about a black person?”

“My thoughts exactly,” said Super #SJW Man. He gave his partner a fist bump and then contorted his hands into imaginary gang signs. “West side!” he shouted. “Let’s go find some blighted housing projects to connect with our unfortunate black brothers living on the wrong side of the tracks.”

“Let’s do this!” yelled Captain Wokeness. “West Side, my nig—!”

He was cut off mid-sentence when his mouth was abruptly covered by Super #SJW Man’s hand. 

“Not so loud!” cried Super #SJW Man. “We have to be careful not to say any form of the ‘N’ word around those people, because they get super upset. They’re super sensitive, because they’ve been oppressed for so long.”

“My bad,” his partner said, hanging his head and looking glumly at the floor.

“I accept your apology,” said Super #SJW Man. “You’re lucky I stopped you from completing that word, even if you were using the hip-hop version of it that ends in ‘a.’ Had you uttered that blasphemous word in its entirety, I would have been forced to report you to Twitter!”

“You are completely right,” said Captain Wokeness. “I promise that it will never, ever happen again.”

“It must not happen again,” continued Super #SJW Man. “As Team Woke, we must hold ourselves to the highest possible standard. We can never say anything at which any non-white, non-straight, non-binary, non-American person could possibly take any offense!”

“Please don’t kick me off the team,” begged Captain Wokeness. “Please give me another chance. And whatever you do, please don’t say anything about this on Twitter.”

Super #SJW Man nodded and said, “Your sins have been forgiven.” He slapped Captain Wokeness on the back.

“Thanks, bro,” said Captain Wokeness.

The two superheroes hugged.

“Alright, let’s do our team handshake and team cheer!” shouted Super #SJW Man.

After performing their complicated team handshake, the superheroes chanted, “We’re not white! We’re not men! We’re Team Woke! And we will win!” They did their secret handshake and then repeated their team cheer two more times.

“I was thinking,” began Super #SJW Man, “that we will have to get used to speaking in ebonics if we want to communicate with our downtrodden African-American brothers and sisters and non-binaries living in the ghetto. We will probably also need to incorporate rap music into our campaign, so we can reach them more effectively.”

Captain Wokeness nodded in agreement.

“After doing a little research, I think we should go to the Dr. Shabazz K. Morton housing projects to look for some oppressed black people,” said Super #SJW Man. “From what I can tell, the black people in those projects are very authentically black.”

After they had gotten into Captain Wokeness’s shiny new Tesla, Super #SJW Man said, “Let’s play some reggae music or the blues, so that we can get more in touch with our inner blackness.”

“Don’t they like rap music now?” asked Captain Wokeness. “I don’t know of any reggae stations, but I got Hot 107 preset on my radio.” He turned on the radio and turned up the volume: it was a new song by Tyrone Greene, called “Kill My Landlord.”

Captain Wokeness started rapping along with the song. “That rich white boy gotta die, oh yay! Take a bat and break his arms and legs, okay!” As he sang, he made imaginary gang signs and bounced up and down in his seat.

“I hope none of my tenants hears this song,” said Super #SJW Man, with an uneasy smile.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you inherited a bunch of apartment buildings from your grandfather,” said his friend.

“It’s nothing but trouble,” said Super #SJW Man, shaking his head. “It used to be a nice part of town, back when my grandfather bought them, but then after the race riots and white flight, it turned into the hood. I got tired of dealing with my tenants, so I hired a company to handle the rentals and property management for me; but they’re always asking me to authorize these expensive repairs after tenants move out, because those freaking animals destroy everything. I’m thinking about selling them all and buying some rental property in a nicer part of town. Those people on Section Eight are more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Yeah, I’m glad my grandparents set me up with shares of a Real Estate Investment Trust instead of the actual property,” said Captain Wokeness. “I don’t have to manage shit. I just collect the dividends every month, which allows me to continue all my important work blogging and doing political activism.”

Share

“You lucky bastard,” said Super #SJW Man. “I wish my grandpa had done that. He gave me the actual property: six duplexes and three run-down apartment buildings. A trust fund would have been so much better.”

They arrived at the massive housing project and parked near a basketball court. Ten young men were playing, and another ten more men were waiting their turn to play.   As Super #SJW Man and Captain Wokeness got out of the vehicle, the game suddenly halted, and everyone stared in amazement at the two wannabe superheroes.

“What the hell?” said one of the men on the court. He pointed towards the superheroes and started laughing.

“Greetings and salutations, my black brothers,” said Super #SJW Man, waving.

“Say what?” asked one of the men. “He’s calling us his ‘black brothers.’ Is this dude for real?”

“Y’all about to go trick-or-treat or something?” asked another. “Shit, it’s Halloween y’all! Where’s you get those costumes!”

“I am Super #SJW Man, and this is Captain Wokeness.” Super #SJW Man pointed at his friend, and they high-fived.

In unison, the two white boys added, “And together, we are Team Woke!”

The basketball players laughed loudly, slapped their knees, doubled over, and kept laughing so hard that some of them began to cry.

“Somebody record this shit,” said one of them. “These crazy muthafuckas is too funny.”

“What you say your name is?” asked another.

“Team Woke!” shouted the two friends.

“Team Joke?” asked one of the basketball players.

“Team broke!” someone else added. “Y’all some gay-ass muthafuckers!”

“You muthafuckers is high as shit!” said another. “What y’all been smoking? Shit, we need to smoke with y’all. Y’all must got the good dank!”

“We are high on idealism!” replied Super #SJW Man. “We are prepared to use our white privilege to lift you poor black people out of your dark despair and to join you in your fight for political and economic equality.”

“What the fuck?!” shouted the man nearest them. “Why you calling us ‘poor?’”

“Wuh-wuh-well, it’s not your fault that you’re poor,” stammered Super #SJW Man. “It’s the fault of the straight white cis-gender men.”

“I ain’t poor,” announced one of the players. “You can’t just assume that because somebody’s black, that means they poor.”

Super #SJW Man nodded and smiled. “You are correct. Some of my dearest friends in college were black. They let me join their protests outside the president’s mansion!”

“You protested at the White House?” someone else asked.

“No,” said Super #SJW Man. “Not the President of the United States; the president of the college.”

“There’s a gay bar down the street,” said another of the men. “Y’all ought to fit in real well there.”

“Them faggots in there would love a couple of punk-ass white boys,” added another.

“We may be white men,” said Super #SJW Man, “but we are #WOKE and we are pissed off at the injustices in society, so we are going to help you all.”

“Gonna help us do what?” asked another of the men. “You gonna give us some money?”

“No,” said Super #SJW Man, shaking his head. “We’re going to support you in your struggle.”

“Well, you can support us from somewhere else, bruh,” someone yelled. “You messing up our basketball game.”

“Can we play, too?” asked Captain Wokeness. “We want to experience black culture, so that we can better understand how difficult your lives must be, as black people in America.”

“You about to experience my black Nikes up your ass, sissy-ass white boy!” someone shouted.

“Get outta here, you stupid-ass faggots!” yelled another.

“How can you say such hateful things about our LGBTQ brothers and sisters and non-binaries?” demanded Super #SJW Man, with one hand on his hip and the other hand waving around in front of his face. “You people should appreciate how hard it is for minorities to get equality and respect in America, so you of all people should not be using the ‘F-word’ and denigrating gays.”

“The ‘F-word?’” asked someone else. “You mean ‘fuck?’”

“No, not ‘fuck,’” replied Super #SJW Man. “I mean –” he paused and inhaled deeply. “I mean, the ‘F-word’ that people use to insult gays.”

“You mean ‘faggot?’” asked one of the men, with a confused look on his face.

Share

Super #SJW Man nodded.

“What’s wrong with the word ‘faggot?’” asked another.

“It’s a discriminatory insult towards homosexuals,” said Captain Wokeness, his voice tense and angry.

“I didn’t call you a faggot because you’re gay. I called you a faggot because you’re a stupid, annoying-ass muthafucka, and you need to get the hell away from me, before you get hurt.”

Captain Wokeness began pacing in circles. “I can’t believe this,” he said.

“Can’t believe what?”

“That you, of all people, would use the ‘F-word’ to describe someone,” replied Captain Wokeness.  “Using the ‘F-word’ for gays is like using the ‘N-word’ towards black people. What if I was to call you the ‘N-word?’”

“And what if I was to smack you in the face?” asked one of the men.

“I’ll sue you for everything you got,” replied Captain Wokeness.

The men started laughing. “Eww-whee!” cried one. “This man’s a lawyer.”

“I ain’t never seen no lawyer looking like that!” yelled another. “Wearing a faggoty-ass cape, like he Clark Kent or something.”

“You men are behaving like animals!” shouted Captain Wokeness. “Here we are, trying to lift you all out of your ignorance and oppression, and you—”

“You saying we ignorant?” demanded one of the men. He walked up to Captain Wokeness and slapped him across the face with the back of his hand. “You in our neighborhood, boy! You better show some respect!”

The men had formed a circle around the two superheroes, who suddenly realized the danger they were in and began apologizing and begging for mercy. Despite their superhero costumes, neither of them had any special powers, and neither knew how to fight.

Suddenly, the crowd around them backed away and began walking back onto the basketball court. Turning around, the two superheroes saw a police cruiser parking nearby.

“I think we better leave, quickly,” said Super #SJW Man.

Captain Wokeness nodded. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank God for the police. We almost got mauled by those fucking homophobic apes.”

The two friends walked briskly towards the car and got in. As they pulled away, the police car began following them.

“Oh good,” said Super #SJW Man. “The police are trailing us to make sure we get out of the park safely. I guess they know how dangerous those people can be.”

Suddenly, the police car began flashing its lights.

Captain Wokeness rolled down the window as the police officer approached and held out his driver license and auto insurance card. “What’s the problem, officer,” he asked.

“What you guys doing in this neighborhood?” asked the officer.

“We’re just trying to get a feel for the black community,” said Captain Wokeness. “We are both reporters and political correspondents.”

The officer eyed them suspiciously. “If I search your car, would I find any drugs?”

“I don’t consent to any searches,” replied Captain Wokeness. “We haven’t broken any laws. We are within our legal rights to enjoy the public facilities. Before we go any further, I would like to write down your name and badge number. My uncle works in the mayor’s office, and I’m sure he would want to know the details of my encounter with the police.”

“What’s your uncle’s name?” asked the officer, looking sideways at the two friends.

“Trent Morrison,” replied Captain Wokeness.

“Does your uncle know you’re hanging around in this park with a bunch of gang bangers?” asked the officer, as he passed Captain Wokeness’s documents back to him. “You guys got to be careful on this side of town. Kids like you that get lost over here can get into trouble real quick.”

“Thank you, officer,” said Captain Wokeness. “Are we free to go now?”

The officer nodded and began walking back to his car.

Captain Wokeness gently eased the shiny Tesla into traffic. As they drove away, Super #SJW Man turned the radio back on and turned up the volume. The two friends rapped loudly along with the song on the radio.

“Straight out tha hood!” they shouted, in unison with the music. They glanced at each other and laughed. “I’m a real gangsta-ass —!”

A short while later, as they were driving past a restaurant called “Juicy J’s Chicken Shack,” Super #SJW Man had an idea. “Let’s go get some fried chicken and watermelon from that restaurant,” he said. “We’re sure to encounter some oppressed black people in there, who need superheroes like us to show them the way. And eating fried chicken and watermelon will help us to understand the black experience in America.”

“Great idea!” shouted Captain Wokeness, as he turned sharply into the restaurant parking lot.

“Are they open?” asked Super #SJW Man. “It looks pretty dark in there. I don’t see anyone inside.”

“There are a couple of cars in the parking lot, though,” said Captain Wokeness, pointing to a white 1975 Cadillac and a baby-blue 1978 Oldsmobile.

Captain Wokeness parked his shiny new Tesla next to the Oldsmobile, and the two superheroes exited the vehicle.

Someone in the Oldsmobile rolled down the front passenger window slightly and demanded gruffly, “What you want?”

“Hi, my name’s Super #SJW Man, and this is my partner, Captain Wokeness. Together, we are Team Woke!”

“We’re looking for some action,” added Captain Wokeness.

“You straight, or you goin’ down low?” the voice asked.

Super #SJW Man shrugged and looked at his friend, who replied with a confused look. Super #SJW Man looked into the darkness inside the Oldsmobile and hesitantly replied, “I don’t know. Which is better?”

The voice in the Oldsmobile chuckled and replied, “You guys can get a little bit of both. I got a nice young lady y’all can hang with, half black and Asian.”

“Okay, that sounds great,” said Super #SJW Man. “We’re looking for people who are intersectional to recruit for our movement. Does she like politics.”

“Yeah, sure,” the voice replied, laughing again. “Just get back in your car and follow me. I’m going to stop in front of her place. Go up to the second floor, and you’ll see a man outside, named Fix. Tell Fix to set you up with Myrna.”

“Sounds great!” Captain Wokeness replied.

A short while later, they parked in front of a run-down hotel. As they got out, the gruff voice yelled to them from the Oldsmobile, “Go inside and look for a man with a red hat and red shoes. Tell him you looking for Fix and that you swing both ways. Tell him you want Myrna. He’ll hook you up.” Then the Oldsmobile drove away.

“Well, let’s go find Mr. Fix,” said Super #SJW Man.

The lobby of the hotel was dark, except for a single lamp flickering on the front desk.  Behind the desk sat a man with a red hat and red shoes, who eyed them suspiciously. The two superheroes walked towards him.

“We’re looking for Fix,” said Super #SJW Man.

“What you want?” asked the man.

“We’re looking for some action,” said Super #SJW Man.

“From Myrna,” added Captain Wokeness.

“Four hundred dollars,” the man said. “Two hundred apiece.”

“Cash?” asked Captain Wokeness.

“Naw, Western Union,” replied the man, with a sneer. “Yeah, cash. What you think, we take travelers checks?”

Share

“We don’t have that much cash,” said Super #SJW Man. “We’d need to go to the ATM.”

“Do what you gotta do, playa,” the man replied. “But Myrna will make it worth your while.”

They walked back to their car and drove away.

“I don’t think we should pay that much to recruit someone,” said Captain Wokeness.

“I was wondering about that,” said Super #SJW Man. “But we’re having such a hard time meeting poor and oppressed minorities, that maybe this could help us get started. I mean, once we meet one, we can get her to introduce us to all her friends. Our movement will start small, but I’m sure it will grow quickly.”

“No doubt,” said Captain Wokeness. “I’m sure black people are tired of being ignored by the mainstream politicians and media, so they will be eager to join our movement. I’m sure they’ve been waiting for someone like us to finally take an interest in them.”

After several minutes of searching unsuccessfully for a bank, they spotted a sign for a liquor store. The sign indicated that an ATM was inside.

A few minutes later, they were standing inside the liquor store, in front of the ATM, which had a sign on it saying, “Out of order.”

“Shit!” muttered Super #SJW Man.

“You can get cash back if you buy something,” said the cashier, his voice crackling through a speaker. The cashier and all the store’s merchandise were locked behind bullet-proof glass.

“Okay,” said Captain Wokeness. “Can we get $400 back.”

“What you guys trying to get into with that kind of money?” asked the cashier, with a skeptical expression.

“We’re trying to start a political movement, so we’re recruiting our first intersectional member.”

“Your first what?” the cashier asked, cocking his head to the side and scowling.

“Intersectional member,” replied Super #SJW Man. “We’re looking for blacks and other oppressed minorities to join our movement.”

“Okay, so what you guys want to buy here?”

“I hear that black people like to drink Hennessey and Grey Goose,” said Captain Wokeness. “Give us a fifth each.”

The cashier retrieved the bottles of liquor and returned to the service window. “That’ll be $196,” he said.

“That’s really expensive,” said Super #SJW Man.

“I don’t set the prices,” the cashier said. “I just work here. And there’s a $5 charge for getting cash back, by the way.”

“That’s outrageous!” cried Captain Wokeness.

“I’ll pay it,” said Super #SJW Man. “And go ahead and make it $500 cashback.”

They left the store, each carrying a brown bag with a liquor bottle inside. As they walked to their car, an elderly-looking man dressed in rags called out to them, “Excuse me, sirs!”

“Yes?” asked Super #SJW Man.

“Let me talk to y’all for just a minute,” the man said, as he hobbled towards them. “Look, I don’t usually ask for nothing from people, but I kind of fell on hard times. My momma just died from cancer, and I was paying for all her treatment, cause she ain’t got no money and no insurance. I got to get a bus ticket to Cleveland, cuz that’s where the funeral is. I ran out of money, and then I got laid off last week. If you could spare anything, so I could get me a hot meal and maybe a bus ticket, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Would you like a job?” asked Super #SJW Man.

“What kind of job?” the man asked.

“We are starting a political movement to fight against rich, straight, cisgender, white men,” said Super #SJW Man. “We are looking for black people to join our movement. If you could help us recruit new members, we’ll give you –” he paused and looked over at Captain Wokeness.

“Ten dollars per recruit,” said Captain Wokeness.

“Y’all for real?” asked the man, his eyes narrowing as he looked the two superheroes up and down.

The two friends nodded.

“So all I got to do is get people to say they joining your group, and you give me $10 for each person I get?”

“You got it!” replied Super #SJW Man.

“Ok, I got some people that’d be interested in this movement of yours,” said the old man. “Can you give me some money up front, though? That’ll help me get people to join, when they see there’s real money involved.”

“Sure!” agreed Super #SJW Man. “Let me get some information from you, so we can stay in touch, and then we’ll give you your first installment.”

After a couple of minutes, the superheroes learned that their first black member was named Eric B. Rakim, his home phone number was 555-6666, and he lived in an abandoned warehouse with some of his friends, whom he was sure would gladly join the movement. The man did not have an email address or Twitter account, much to the superheroes’ dismay. Super #SJW Man wrote his own phone number and email address on a slip of paper and handed it to Eric, who stuffed it into his pocket, along with $100 cash.

The three men shook hands and exchanged farewells. As Eric disappeared into a dark alleyway, the two superheroes got into the shiny Tesla.

“Let’s not go back to the motel,” said Captain Wokeness. “I’ve had enough ghetto culture for one night.”

“Ok,” said Super #SJW Man.

As they drove back towards the gentrified side of the city, Super #SJW Man leaned back in his seat and smiled. “I’d say our first recruitment mission was a success,” he said. “We got our first intersectional member, and he has gone to work recruiting more poor and oppressed minorities to join our movement.”

Captain Wokeness nodded. He reached for the radio and changed the channel to a station that played indie music. “I can’t take any more rap,” he said.

Super #SJW Man laughed and nodded in agreement.

[Up Next: Chapter 8, in which Team Woke Allies with the LGBTQ+ Movement. Or return to the Table of Contents.]

Share

Thanks for reading A Ghost in the Machine! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.

Share this post

Super #SJW Man Chapter 7

aghostinthemachine.substack.com
Previous
Next
Comments
TopNewCommunity

No posts

Ready for more?

© 2023 Daniel D
Privacy ∙ Terms ∙ Collection notice
Start WritingGet the app
Substack is the home for great writing