My generation is ruining everything.

What a load of sacrifice it seems everyone before us made. Or at least that’s what I’m told – perhaps it was total bullshit. It could be, but I doubt it. It’s hard to believe that there was a culture more narcissistic and self-important than mine. No generation before us had the Internet, so logic dictates that they could not possibly be as narcissistic and self-important as a collective. Not even close.

Well – we control the Internet these days … no, we invented the goddamned thing! … Surely we can rewrite history however we damn feel. We can call shenanigans on every generation before us! Because we invented Wikipedia and HISTORY is written by the winners. That’s us. Fuck you everyone that had to read books and fight evil masterminds to learn shit! Aw – you beat Hitler, so what. I do this every weekend on Xbox Live – it doesn’t seem all that complicated, Gramps. Big deal, Nazis, smatzis – that’s what I say. You had to read paper maps to get places. I could’ve totally navigated … (Normandy, Vinorady) … provided I had a Wifi signal.

Okay, so maybe we haven’t done shit except invent a platform – in the form of social media – that allows all boring and useless people to preach. I certainly don’t help things. If it was up to me I’d teleport back to ’62, sit on my porch with a bottomless bottle of bourbon and wait for Kennedy to get shot. And bet on hockey games. Indeed.

Instead? I got stuck with a generation that overshares at every opportunity imaginable. Imagine constant bombardment from everyone you couldn’t wait to never hear from again after high school. And it’s inescapable if you go online. I’m torn between my desire to constantly gain new and exciting information about this planet I’m currently firing through space upon, and the desire not to facepalm myself on a daily basis because no one gives a shit that you ate hamburgers on the patio this weekend and you think it’s a damn shame that Republicans do what they do. No fucking shit?

There now exists a window into the lives of most of the people on this planet that I have ever encountered. We all creep – I sometimes assume that’s what it’s there for – though it’s odd that I can actually do so. I’m constantly stuck in a sad chuckle at how messed up it is that there are people who are either too stupid or too arrogant (and in this day in age, with the medium being around as long as it has, I assume the latter) to keep me, someone they have never met and likely never will – a non-friend as it were – from having complete access to that windowsill into their lives. To prop myself up on the ledge of their lives, and view their old photo albums, correspondence, and get caught up with the life of a total stranger. And all before the commercial break is even over. Then I snap out of it and remember what I’m actually there for – free bikini and cleavage pics. Focus!

Seem to be getting off track a little … Where were we? Right…

I think, on a personal level, if I have more than 300 friends on the facebook it’s needless overkill. Some I keep out of respect. Some I keep because they have nice tits. Some I genuinely share things in common with and call my friends. The rest are purged biannually in an effort to trim the fat into the vicinity around the 290s. I have a hard time believing that anyone living a normal life (in spite of what we may wish or genuinely believe as the alternative for ourselves) has an excuse for an excess of this figure.  … Though, this number is subject to inflation due to the sudden and unexpected flow of family members who are showing up online.


We’re all doomed. Doomed to be consumed by an eternal downpour of witty little statuses (can we start saying statti?) and perceptions driven by what we are allowed to see online, instead of what we actually observe with our own sharply evolved senses. It’s only going to get worse.


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