I can understand that differences of perception exist. Perceptions are shaped by experiences, experiences create reality. What we collectively think tends to define the end label. Now labels are called Brands, with a highlighted italic bold font, trendy bendy annoying boring. Millennials forgive me while I speak of fargone things, I don’t hate you that’s the thing, you’re the bratty sibling, the underling that thinks you already rule the world. In the novel, A Wrinkle in Time, Millennials you’d be Charles Wallace and my generation X would be Meg. When papercut, do you bleed like the rest of us hobbits or are you not the evil living dead! Moah HaHa! You the depressed of my generation X, I claim that we’re the last of the best…the Last of the Mohicans…close but not quite; Michael Mann’s Last of the Mohicans was extraordinary, I loved it, loved it. It was just a slip of the tongue the intentional bragging but it contains the orbit of truth.
Generation X was the last to retain a semblance of independent childhood. We roamed outside in neighborhood packs in suburbanite mini gangs unaccompanied. We raced past trees on our bikes like Eliot with E. T. past sunset lit by fireflies blinking magic in firefly morse code. Play date WTF are you taking about? We roller skated down hilly suburban roads, caught crayfish in the creek, ice-skated on that same creek in our sneakers, slipping, almost falling and peering with our hands cupped into ice land, the frozen underwater wondrous micro world in suspended animation. One bike could carry two kids to the local store, with one seated pedaling and the other perched on handlebars. We were brave and dumb enough to try it all.
Because were unsupervised, we had to figure things out by ourselves, amuse ourselves with our own inventions. We built treehouses, clubhouses and sprawled out contentedly for hours without electronics with our snacks, books, art materials; we discovered and invented. We were the original pioneers of the Information Age as Richard Brautigan said, “watched over lovingly by machines” when Apple computers were awkwardly boxed monitor cubes, lit by green lines of code. MTV was born during our time and therefore the trash of reality television took hold and (crap, so I guess) we were inadvertently responsible for the rise of the no talent, spotlight drama-loving, media-craving Kardashians. Who I personally detest. On behalf of Gen X I profusely apologize for MTV and the Kardashians. If only time travel did exist, I’d go back and make things right. No OJ trial, no LA riots, no Real Life, Bachelor, Survivor, Apprentice trash tv and therefore no trash tv President Rump, I mean Cheetos suntan fan, I mean the Putin loving rapist, what’s his name again? I’m not a fan.
My generation was the last of the old school cool. We were raised watching Evil Knevil, with his star striped stuntman overalls which resembled Elvis styled jumpsuits glittering with all-american stars. We entertained ourselves with nature, books, bikes, skates. We went over to each other’s houses, stayed outside all day wandering by unpolluted forests, collecting rocks, leaves, cat tails, pussy willows, (yes get your your mind back on track), we didn’t need a plan, we improvised our daily missions and none of us were allergic to peanuts either, that happened with your generation. Big Pharma and Monsanto are the same corporate monster that I hold responsible. Don’t tell me GMOs don’t lead to cancer, and the syringe full of antidote isn’t really the poison. Peanut oil reactions from vaccinations are a no brainer, go connect the dots. Kids are not suddenly, causelessly allergic to peanuts, they get that allergy at the hospital plus this GMO crap isn’t real peanuts. Food should not be laboratory spliced, who gave permission to put arachnid genes in tomatoes and animal genes in rice, they should be jailed immediately, no Frankenstein meals please, that shit shouldn’t even be composted. Yes I said shit, because that’s what it is.
Communication is about an exchange of information, a migrated knowing from writer to reader, a telepathic exchange, an empathy of thoughts. Written language is the original form of long distance communication. Anyway, this article I predict will be shuffled back into obscurity once again. And be brilliant once again haha! And oh so modest, maybe we all think we’re brilliant secretly, because we are secretly. Simplicity explains miracles in fundamental steps, layers of understanding. I’m writing to you, to say hello to the mirage of mostly anonymous, the disconnected, electronic eyes that (perhaps define this new generation), peering into my cybernetic void, in this Medium, like a time capsule this attempt to connect and record through writing. Why are we doing it? Fame, forgetaboutit, Fortune nope, I doubt it, what’s left? Love, but that can’t be bargained or contrived. Love is voluntary insanity. Love will erase your memory, delete all others before your other self. But Love gets it wrong more often than not. Because Love keeps trying, forgiving, denying… that creep’s just not into you. Move on, be strong, they were never worth your time.