Wednesday, January 14, 2009

I hope the Second Coming of Fear arrives soon.

A nation of late night ads for increased size to improve my non-existent love life’s performance, has gotten me thinking about the 1930’s. The last time we went through this rough of an economical period we only had 48 states, men only lived on average till fifty-eight (lucky fuckers), and pecker pills were far from anybody’s imagination or concern. We were a nation of Cowboys, soldiers, and workers not text messaging meterosexuals living in plastic debauchery high on or controlled by magic pills and faux communication.

Fear died in the 1980’s while on a cocaine binge in a hotel room in Des Moines, as an actor who once filmed with a monkey became our President while the baby boomers plotted the assassination of America’s grit. Their parents struggled, fought, and rebuilt America for one last eight second ride on horse named moderation. The crowd cheered, the cowboy held his head high, and god smiled down upon his one and only nation under his watchful eye.
These heroes who walked the dark side and paved those dark roads for us knew that in order to prevent strife from reoccurring they needed to educate their children about what they saw and give them a better chance with books and a degree. They praised them while teaching them that they needed to prepare for a cloudy day holding back excess yet never allowing selfishness. It’s a fine line but they knew how to walk it since they’ve played on both sides.

The old timers were conservatives and I don’t mean the bullshit political definition we’ve eroded the word to mean in the text message generation. I’m talking about the real deal, the proper characterization, what America was and what it was built upon - a simple concept that we should always apply the lessons of the past to the struggles of today. The knowing that our forefathers, like our grandfathers, and like our fathers actually had wisdom from their experience and all we had to do was listen.

The problem was that when you hold back fun and excessive behavior by means of authority, punishment, and fear you create massive want and a need for frivolous freedom from that oppression. Like a catholic girl in her high knee socks and a plaid skirt living freely in college now without the nuns sternness they frolic in a world of orgies, sexual decadence, and drugs. Ummm dirty catholic girls so wild, so free, and so experimental no matter the culture or the generation. It’s really no different than a dog getting into his bag of treats and eating till he vomits all over the floor, just to eat the vomited food back up in pure bliss.

These wild children let their hair go long too mock their parents and their ways - a cultural revolt turned into a war of generations, ideals, and turbulence. I wish I was young and alive for those days because it must have been so amazing, so free, so drug fueled as entire nations young born from nervous lust by fearful and calloused parents flashed their titties, gave the uniformed and suited swine the finger, and told the nation they were in charge now. The old timers were too old and too tired to fight another war especially with their kids.

Mass numbers, and thanks to their parents struggle now much more advanced educated they quickly like arm ants swarming in numbers and aggression over took the government and assumed their thrones in the business world. They learned to stock pile and save from their parents, and then they survived revolt and drugs from their wild years leaving them all knowing and never wrong. They were told drugs would make them crazy and kill them, and they didn’t their parents were wrong or they lied to them and now they knew. Ten feet tall and bullet proof justified in their rightness of their experiences and travels it was time to change the way we did things. Clearly their uneducated parents and their small time thinking was wrong and they were going to right that wrong so that no generation would ever have to follow those crusty and rusted rules and regulations.

I was lucky (maybe) to be raised in the 1980’s when we had a plethora of plastic action figures and absolutely no fear. War was something in the movies and dreadfully boring we wanted no part of. If you had a problem, and nobody else could help, and you can find them…maybe you can call the A-Team. Things blew up but everybody walked away, nobody died and the good guys always won. "Mr. Gorbachov, tear down this wall!"

My mother was a single mother without a college education but yet I still had it all. We all did, well except for those black kids on the side of town we never visited. But what did they matter its not like one of them would ever be in charge. Our parents bought, they spent, they sold, they snorted, they advanced, and they expanded.

Their parents thought too small we needed bigger, we needed faster, and we needed it now. To own a restaurant was a failure, to own a chain was an ever producing goldmine. Give a man a fish and your undercharging him, teach him to fish and your creating a good source of labor, educate a man to franchise and now we’re talking. They pumped, and pumped, and pumped, till it looked like it was going to blow. They drilled, and drilled, and drilled until it looked as the well had gone dry.

We wanted to tell them, but they would never listen to us they were smarter than their parents and we clearly had not lived the lives they had. We did not have the numbers nor the motivation to stand up to them. Oh shit man, it’s about to blow somebody listen to me!! You know I could go outside and shout it but its too fucking cold and I got a TiVo to watch.
God damn, it busted and they are to blame as they didn’t want to listen to their parents. They needed to understand that evil fucking prick known as greed consumed them. The snake in Garden of Eden, the Midas touch, the ability to supersize for under a dollar more - greed. Thank god they made a movie about the seven deadly sins or nobody would know what the hell I’m talking about. Stories of our past talk about it from the bible to fairy tales yet these stubborn fucking egotistical cockroaches refused to listen.

My generation, our generation, is left now to fight for control while our parents refuse to let go. They were motivated and still are, and we are not. We are lazy. We’ve been sedated by television, video games, movies, and all the music and porn you can think of now available for no cost and damn near instantly. We have it way too good, and, without fear we will fail. So we let them continue to sell us out; waiting and hoping for them to die, to grab what little of the inheritance they didn’t snort, sail, or sink in the stock market.

We have it so good that even in the worst of times the hardness and struggle of our lives are less of a concern the hardness of our peckers at three in the morning on the History Channel.

Maybe tomorrow we can find that reason to stand up, until then its bed time and I’ve over indulged in alcohol and fried fatty food.

Go figure.


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