The White Male Writer is Fine, I Promise

Have you heard the news? My people, the White Male Writers, are vanishing. It’s a terrible situation. The other day, I was walking down Dauphine Street in New Orleans when I saw a literary young man simply go poof! and disappear in a wisp of smoke, leaving only a crumpled suit and a notebook full of unpublished short stories behind. It’s happening more and more. The culprit, of course, is the unchecked spread of Woke—and if things go on like this, we White Male Writers will soon have gone the way of the giant ground sloth. In fact, I may vanish myself any day now. Why isn’t the United Nations or the Pulitzer committee or somebody looking into this?