Whytmanastan

I first heard Karen Hunter use the term a while ago, and this morning, Lurie Daniel-Favors said it again on her show—Whytmanastan—to describe the vision behind Project 2025 and the fever dream of this administration.

A fictional place?
No, a historical one.
Wait—no, not quite. It’s more like a return. A regression. A reimagining of a time when white men ruled the world—at least in their own minds. And now, they want it back.

In Whytmanastan, the Gulf of Mexico no longer exists.
The cotton-pickers are Black.
The Mexicans are illegal.
The white South Africans fleeing “genocide” are welcomed—because they know how to assimilate.
New Navy ships bear names like The Bull Connor and SS Trump, replacing vessels once named for Harriet Tubman, Thurgood Marshall, or Harvey Milk.

The high-water mark is mediocrity.
There is no hurricane season.
Tim Scott and Byron Donalds get stopped at the border—then denied access or quietly arrested.

Whytmanastan is no longer a satire. It’s dangerously close to reality.

Because we’ve underestimated how fragile the most violent people on this planet actually are. Fragile because they know they’re outnumbered. Fragile because they know deep down their time is up—but they’re hell-bent on resetting the clock.

The Handmaid’s Tale wasn’t a warning. It was a blueprint. A utopia—not for women, not for freedom, not for justice—but for the white man’s last grasp at control. Sans diversity.

Whytmanastan almost became America. Maybe it did. But then they started cannibalizing each other soon after they made landfall—until the Indigenous people stepped in and saved them. Fed them. Taught them.

And how did whiteness repay them?

Imagine a country with no culture of its own. No spices. No rhythm. No joy that didn’t come from someone else’s sorrow. A land built on theft and erasure, clinging to the illusion of supremacy while choking on its own blandness.

That’s Whytmanastan.