The baby boomers were the hope for the future, but it turned out someone didn’t want the future they were demanding, so we got wise and cynical towards the young and claimed that the future had already been written, that history was now in its end stages. The millenials may be lazy and apathetic and solipsistic and entitled and everything we’ve conditioned them to be. They may also just be in despair about a world that does not want them except for their blood, the IV drip directly suckling their student loans, healthcare bills, credit debt, grocery costs, HVAC, designer clothes, and, most of all, smartphones, which allow them to plugin to the control apparatus everywhere at all times, not even stopping for highway traffic. But one day, and it may not be for a couple generations, the kids will have achieved total entertainment enlightenment and will then begin to be bored by the apps. They will yearn for something more visceral, something else. Or perhaps they’ll seek mystery and ambiguity, challenge all received wisdom. On that day, they will lunge towards my generation and pull us screaming from the rafters onto the field, where our shitty old ideas will be eviscerated, becoming refuse in the pyre of the glorious new, something we haven’t even thought of yet. The joyous carnage of our ego death will make beautiful music whose echoes will escape into the night down channels no one thought to broadcast.