While Sabrina Carpenter continues to launch a thousand think pieces about her Man’s Best Friend cover, her lead single from the album, “Manchild,” has flown surprisingly under the radar in terms of just how much and how mercilessly it trolls the ridiculousness (read: complete and total doltishness) of men. Their emotional immaturity, their general incompetence and their easily bruised egos. In fact, the shambolic state of the world is a direct result of all these qualities in the men who call themselves “leaders,” “rulers,” etc. And yet, because most people are hyper-focused on the visual presentation of something (in this case, Carpenter posed submissively on her knees in front of a “mystery man”), it seems that the singer’s no holds barred lyrics have gone largely unnoticed by the very subject it ribs: men. Or, more accurately, scared little boys playing at being men.
Women, of course, have taken note of the song’s content and have no cause for complaint with it. After all, the verses only speak the unvarnished truth, even if delivered through a winking, faux-sarcastic lens. This includes her opening, which features a tone that embodies a hmm, let me think of what word I can use to describe these twits vibe. And, of course, that word is “manchild” (with a little help from Lana Del Rey, via “Norman Fucking Rockwell,” to spur the unflattering categorization). But before arriving there, Carpenter muses, as though she doesn’t already know exactly what and how she wants to brand men everywhere, “It’s all just so familiar, baby, what do you call it?/Stupid!/Or is it…slow!/Maybe it’s…useless!/But there’s a cuter word for it/I know!/Manchild…”
Alas, there’s nothing “cute” about the havoc that manchildren are capable of wreaking upon the world—and which they have been for centuries. It only seems more ramped up than usual of late because all the incompetence is so readily available to watch unfold in real time, courtesy of the “twenty-four-hour news cycle” that the internet ratcheted up to a new level of “on steroids.” Thus, it’s gotten to the point where keeping track of all the idiocy has become yet another exercise in futility. And the latest “rash” of it cropped up in full force during what has now become an illustrious interview between Ted Cruz and Tucker Carlson about Iran/whether or not the Orange Creature will officially become involved in Israel’s war (that is, yet another one of theirs). While both of these “big men” are manchildren, it was Cruz who was made to look the most inept by Carlson, a being who is himself a dumbass manchild of epic proportions. So yes, to be made to look bad by him, someone who has been amongst the staunchest supporters of Trump, is really saying something.
Just as Carpenter is really saying something when she curses her luck/the universe by demanding of all these manchildren she finds herself saddled with, “Why you always come a-running to me?/Fuck my life/Won’t you let an innocent woman be? [you know, like the innocent women who want the right to make decisions about their own body]/Never heard of self-care/Half your brain just ain’t there.” When it comes to the world leaders of the moment, particularly the Orange Creature, it’s more like, “The majority of your brain just ain’t there.” But hey, who ever said Carpenter wasn’t generous when it comes to depicting dullards with a “daffy” aura rather than a “harmful to everybody around them” one? In fact, the extent of her generosity in such matters was already discussed on Short n’ Sweet’s “Good Graces,” during which she warns, “Boy, it’s not that complicated/You should stay in my good graces/Or I’ll switch it up like that, so fast/‘Cause no one’s more amazin’/At turnin’ lovin’ into hatred.”
Then again, that declarative honor really goes to men, particularly those in a leadership capacity. After all, they’re the ones who glean their lifeblood from turnin’ lovin’ into hatred and then further fomenting that hate for their additional benefit. The benefit, that is, of asserting dominance and control over the fearful masses. For as, Paulo Coelho once wrote, “If you want to control someone, all you have to do is to make them feel afraid.” This being the philosophy that politicians—particularly of the dictatorial variety—have successfully banked on since the dawn of government. All while displaying their blundering maladroitness, which, for whatever reason, never seems to shake the population out of its coma long enough to do something before it’s too late.
So it would seem that the masses reflect Carpenter’s sentiment (even if it’s sarcastic) when she sings, “And I like my men all incompetent/And I swear they choose me, I’m not choosing them.” Except, in the case of the 2024 election, the American public most definitely chose to elect a perennially bungling used car salesman with all the brain power of an Etruscan shrew. Or, as Marci Shore, a professor who made headlines for leaving Yale to set up shop at the University of Toronto to evade the blatant fascism taking over the U.S., told The Guardian, “Nothing was hidden. People had plenty of time to think about it, and they chose this. And that disgust, I couldn’t shake that. I thought: ‘People wanted this.’”
In other words, what the U.S. voters effectively said of Trump and his lackeys was, “Amen/Hey, men!” And oh, how a bevy of men—all of them unqualified manchildren—responded to the call. Not because they wanted to “serve” the American people—or anyone else in the world—but because they wanted to serve their ego. Stoke it and stroke it at the same time. And why shouldn’t they when they’ve been told through the actions of those that “worship” them that they’re worthy? “Better than.” “Fit to lead.” “To rule with an iron fist.” And all that rot. However, to paraphrase Blane from Pretty in Pink, “Deep down, they know they’re shit.” Sniveling, whining manchild pieces of shit. Hence, trying to destroy everyone else’s life to deflect and avert coming face to face with that reality.
All while not even at least looking visually appealing in the process. The one way in which they don’t align with a certain “Manchild” lyric that goes, “Why so sexy if so dumb?” No one currently “dominating” (a.k.a. decimating) the political landscape can lay any claim whatsoever to being “sexy” (this goes double for the countries with the ability to “push the button” on a nuclear weapon). Carpenter adds to that line with, “And how survive the Earth so long/If I’m not there, it won’t get done/I choose to blame your mom.” Perhaps a bit of internalized misogyny there, for the only people to blame for stupid and evil and egotistical men are their fathers. And look no further than Fred Trump Sr. for evidence of that.
