Chances are you've seen a biracial baby-gay in the driver's seat with widened eyes screaming into the front-facing camera vexed about Planned Parenthood or the fact that Donald Trump isn't president anymore before he breaks into a soft "Hiii, can I have <California-complicated Starbucks order> and a venti cup of ice water pleaseee, thank you. (To the camera) So, as I was saying: Black Lives Matter is a terrorist organization." Social media ensures the pundit no longer needs a production team. Witnessing his logical leaps is like watching LSD arrows bouncing between hidden objects.
We may have to give Christian Walker his flowers, given he's able to (at least) articulate the acute splinter of identity that happens when politics are somehow uprooted from ontology. He'll sometimes hit in the right direction, but he misses ultimately, with declamations like "I just don't want to be identified under the rainbow flag because my identity is not a political movement." The militarization of the LGBT movement via the flag iconography is another thing entirely. That's not the point he attempts to make, so we're not interested in breaking that down. Here, we're interested in the metacognitive terror that "the g-word" causes Christian, his personal abject, so to speak. There lies the very breakdown of recognition from which his brand of conservatism spouts.
It somehow reminds me of Wendy Brown's critique of classical liberalism, that it unceasingly abstracts political bodies without contextualizing their conditions. Here, Christian Walker actively decontextualizes himself, which allows for a sly and insidious repackaging of personal traumas as political commentary. Candace Owens is in the same camp: damaged and delusional (parents divorced in early adolescence, had to live in Connecticut, sexually and racially harassed in high school, unable to complete college because of financial restrictions). Now, their individual contexts are different but what's similar is how they dislodge themselves from their personal histories to further themselves, homo economicus. The mental gymnastics required here are quite complex, but Christian Walker is no stranger to the gymnasium.
Christian Walker in his own lane was a successful athlete, one could say. And, the issue is not athletes or artists expressing themselves either (as Walker has contested). The issue arises when Walker applies the specificities of his own exceptional circumstances to the wider circuit of abstract political thought--not to mention the wealth of intellectual history he and all incendiary commentators actively war with. Identity Politics is, at heart, reactionary to classical liberal democracy, by the way, though it still functions within its limits. Many of these logical breaks would be remedied by a book, or even, a quick Google search. The Combahee River Collective Statement is online, in full, girl. But it appears, for Christian, reading, especially reading the history of Western thought, goes against the tenets of free-thinking.
It is unproductive to call him x-phobic at this point because it does not draw out or highlight the nuances, cultural resonances, or performances of his antiblack, antiqueer sentiments, which keeps him, no doubt, deeply entrenched in psychological civil war. Walker's affinity for strong men, for example, would be unremarkable if not for the portrait of his man's-man father, threatening his own life or the life of his mother, or if, for example, Walker did not express a seething, visceral hatred towards Black trans and non-binary bodies—with intensity, I might add, that leans more towards profound jealousy than disgust.
Christian Walker at first glance seems to be the latest in the social media parade of deranged commentators on all things contrarian, provocative, and identity politics (seriously, he has nothing else to talk about). The title of his podcast, Uncancellable, is indicative enough of where he stands on the topic of cancel culture. The thing to remember about these caricatures of public intellectualism, though, is that they are fiercely decontextualized, but they're chiefly reactionary in their aim to abandon all notions of political or economic history as they try and spin their version of the American epic. Now that Herschel Walker has officially announced his run for a senate seat in Georgia, all air of jest or performance has melted away.
For lack of a more readily available rationalization, Christian Walker--and, by extension, Herschel Walker--seems entirely detached from his own blackness, even as his melanin is ceaselessly thrust back into the fore view. But, as we see in discussions or interviews, this is a psychodramatic defense mechanism, started probably years ago, that allows him to mentally deflect all notions of racial or queer, history or context, in favor of his phenomenological fury of the moment. His relationship to queerness might be even more complex. It is quite fascinating to watch his methodology of argument, as he ricochets incoherently from topic to topic, each more abstract and distant than the last--while, at the very same time, betraying unresolved traumas (his experience in Texas as a male cheerleader; being gay as the only son and child of a football legend; etc., etc…) Like how, in attempting to authenticate his derision of gays, he wants us to know that he's been called a faggot too.
This is in no way meant to reintroduce defective notions of identity politics by reminding Christian Walker of the myriad of ways he and his family have indoctrinated exceptionalism into their operative ontology--in fact, this may be an account of his humanity, as mental illness does not discriminate. Please note: I'm not speaking of the linguistic technologies that produce categories of neurodivergence, but rather the history that in all times and all cultures, minds have wandered from some collective dream onto their own paths of perceptual experience.
It's a mix of things: not being comprehensively educated on a chosen topic of discourse and resolving to makeshift an unyielding opinion anyway, even as he learns facts in real-time. Of course, it's your free speech, Christian--you can draw the line between liberalism and bad coffee as much as you'd like (you should really look into that, actually). But remember, it's also free speech that allows me to refer you to a behavioral health program (priorities first).