…obsessing about Neighborhood #1, still. One of the biggest nightmares—that I could tell personally—of everyone growing up in Generation X was that we’d all becomes ridiculously wealthy and also too insulated and entitled to understand our own luck (or less fortunate friends, family). I think it’s pretty safe to say: whatever of selling out was going to happen, already happened; also, NO, we didn’t sell out LIKE THE BABY BOOMERS.
So congratulations, you won the Cold War! 20th Century Soviet Communism no longer threatens to occupy my dick! I am privatizing my lust and dread! What I mean is: we live in an even WORSE dystopia than I could imagine—I have been over 100 pounds overweight and STILL cannot understand Facebook addiction.
On behalf of grunge, pre-Internet computing, and Generation X generally: I apologize to all of you. I’ve been listening closely to all the Neutral Milk Hotel, Fuckbuttons, Arcade Fire and Two Door Cinema Club and YOU ALL IN GENERATION Y ARE RIGHT: we failed you, you inherited an unworkable and unstoppable information media industrial complex; your “life” was over before you began and all that’s left is to muddle through a husk of living until you run the clock out.