THE FURIES OF WHITENESS HIT ME with full force when racists rallied in Charlottesville, Virginia, to defend the statues of the same slaver generals my parents had taught me to revere as a child. I arrived in town early that morning with my friend and colleague Brandon. We’d been covering the far right for a couple of years at that point, and we were expecting a sad but still potentially dangerous little rally of cosplay Confederates, neo-Nazi numbskulls, Facebook fascists, and a smattering of seriously scary militia dudes.