Behind the Essay: Making S'mores Over the Embers of Gender Equality
Waiting on Madam Godot.
When will a woman be president? You no doubt saw a spate of articles asking this question. I’ve been writing that story for years but declined to update it when Trump won the 2024 election—until I realized we've all been barking up the wrong redwood.
Forget the electorate and the electoral college. The real POTUSmakers? The Bohemian Groves of America. Richard Nixon described the exclusive 2,700-acre boys' club in Northern California as “the most faggy goddamned thing you could ever imagine.”
Bohemian Grove is where powerful conservative men in tighty-whities gather to play summer camp, mark their territory on ancient trees and toast marshmallows over the dying embers of gender equality. It's less "Hail to the Chief" and more "Lord of the Flies" with better catering—the part women are allowed to do.
The path to the presidency for women isn't a glass ceiling. It's a labyrinth designed by wannabe frat boys in the state they claim to hate.
But I digress. In Harper’s Bazaar, I wrote about why representation matters.
ICYMI: I wrote about Biden’s legacy for Rolling Stone.
ON A RELATED NOTE
On a recent episode of “The Duncan & Coe History Show: Alexis’ Full Contact History,” I shared with Mike one of the most meaningful moments of my career: meeting a very young grad student who said she'd been watching me "for most of her life."
Also, we dropped a mini episode: “Things Mike is Not Dying Of.”
ON A SOMEWHAT RELATED NOTE
I lurked outside Bohemian Grove when Pacific Standard, yet another rich person’s now defunct magazine, sent me to live in a cabin off the Russian River to contemplate a changing San Francisco.
See you soonish! In the meantime, you can find me on Twitter and Instagram and my books on Bookshop, Amazon, and your local bookstore or library. If you’d like me to sign or personalize my books, purchase copies from Oblong.