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.
