Many stuffy experts agree that our generation is some cross between useless, pointless, indolent, and silly. But sometimes I wonder, kids. Sometimes I think we are just way too cool for school. That there's more to the passion for style and the chic, ironic bitterness than even we give ourselves credit for. That we have the same virtues of exploration and ardor and even moral fortitude than any beat poet/hippy/grandpa, and that we have the added bonus of having re-established all these things on a crazy-ass global and ethical stage. That we recognize the past more than others, we see that the routes are totally established, we're down with that, we are cavaliers and troubadours, we can awesome up a chilly time our own selves on the thin veil of a premise that we're gonna beat up some roundheads or love from afar, sure. With our feathers and our sexiness.
Somewhere deep down we're pretty sure the world will surrender as soon as it sees how good we look. I think all in all we're a very cheerful bunch, which is a lot braver than any doomsdaysayer or dystopian imagined we could be. Probably even braver than the utopians figured on.
I keep reading about how we take our jobs for granted, how our work ethic is low. But a good article that says that will also talk about how trustful and socially engaged we are in the workplace, how accepting and dependent. It's a big bad time to be married to, sure, they knew that would be the case. What was expected, I don't know. But I think it's awfully nice of us not to be hateful or even really spiteful with all this malaise running through our veins. I think we turned out very gentle and humble, as generations go.
Of course we're not a majorly active one. Barring the sudden influx of Obama's Change We May Just Believe In, we haven't been trying to change anything on a massive scale - change is happening fast enough without us. Besides, we know all about bunches of kids who thought they were right and we're just a little too tasteful for retro with that degree of kitsch, despite our sense of nostalgia (however revisionist).
Not that we think it's pointless, but we've seen enough half-baked revolutions to last a long time. If it's the truth, we hope to know it when we see it. We're hypercritical, but not spiteful. Not angry. Just kinda smiling, maybe with a little glint in our eyes, maybe leaning forward to the sexy Marxist and whispering, "Baby, you can half-bake my revolution any day."
Kind of academic, we're kind of nerds I guess, but into each fin-de-siecle a little langorous nerdery must fall. Meanwhile, we'll keep up the stylishness, making the point that we take our image more seriously than whatever fake old war the creepy old princes have going on. They made the roads we're walking on, but by God we're the ones doing the walking and we will walk so crazy awesomely it hurts. We know, somehow, the better reason for being.
Our whole job in the world, as the internet (really!) is teaching us, is to make it more beautiful. Sexier. Smoother and sweeter and easier. Our job is to make it blush with how excellent and hot we are. We're writing letters to our bitches back home that say maybe, baby, you should loosen up already, even though that rigid frigid thing you got going is totally hot, because you're so sexy when your cheeks get rosy and warm. We're riding around with feathers in our hair. We have faith in the victory of style, at least that it'll carry us over for a ways into the troubles.
Not to say live for today, because that's soooo lame. But to react to today, with aplomb that will be appreciated not just by tomorrow and yesterday, but also by today. Just to be very very cool.
Somewhere deep down we're pretty sure the world will surrender as soon as it sees how good we look. I think all in all we're a very cheerful bunch, which is a lot braver than any doomsdaysayer or dystopian imagined we could be. Probably even braver than the utopians figured on.
I keep reading about how we take our jobs for granted, how our work ethic is low. But a good article that says that will also talk about how trustful and socially engaged we are in the workplace, how accepting and dependent. It's a big bad time to be married to, sure, they knew that would be the case. What was expected, I don't know. But I think it's awfully nice of us not to be hateful or even really spiteful with all this malaise running through our veins. I think we turned out very gentle and humble, as generations go.
Of course we're not a majorly active one. Barring the sudden influx of Obama's Change We May Just Believe In, we haven't been trying to change anything on a massive scale - change is happening fast enough without us. Besides, we know all about bunches of kids who thought they were right and we're just a little too tasteful for retro with that degree of kitsch, despite our sense of nostalgia (however revisionist).
Not that we think it's pointless, but we've seen enough half-baked revolutions to last a long time. If it's the truth, we hope to know it when we see it. We're hypercritical, but not spiteful. Not angry. Just kinda smiling, maybe with a little glint in our eyes, maybe leaning forward to the sexy Marxist and whispering, "Baby, you can half-bake my revolution any day."
Kind of academic, we're kind of nerds I guess, but into each fin-de-siecle a little langorous nerdery must fall. Meanwhile, we'll keep up the stylishness, making the point that we take our image more seriously than whatever fake old war the creepy old princes have going on. They made the roads we're walking on, but by God we're the ones doing the walking and we will walk so crazy awesomely it hurts. We know, somehow, the better reason for being.
Our whole job in the world, as the internet (really!) is teaching us, is to make it more beautiful. Sexier. Smoother and sweeter and easier. Our job is to make it blush with how excellent and hot we are. We're writing letters to our bitches back home that say maybe, baby, you should loosen up already, even though that rigid frigid thing you got going is totally hot, because you're so sexy when your cheeks get rosy and warm. We're riding around with feathers in our hair. We have faith in the victory of style, at least that it'll carry us over for a ways into the troubles.
Not to say live for today, because that's soooo lame. But to react to today, with aplomb that will be appreciated not just by tomorrow and yesterday, but also by today. Just to be very very cool.
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