Enough ink and pixels have been spilled over the bitterness, resentment, and spiteful materialism of our age to fill a library of books and a Google server’s worth of blogs with tiny, near illegible 6 point type. More time has been spent fretting over the tragic insincerities we suffer and inflict upon ourselves than we would likely care to admit. Once and for all, then, for finality and catharsis, let’s just get it out of the way so we can move on—
We are a group of overweight, undereducated, egocentric, misunderestimated, corporate-cultivated igeneration slackers, freshly weaned off our mother’s television’s teat. We are obsessed with motivation, but unmotivated. We are enamored with success, but unsuccessful. We learn to read the small print in the womb and write résumés before we can walk, and we think that that’s the way it’s supposed to be.
Well, we should think again.
When we were kids, we had some absurd ideas. We believed that we would reap what we sow, that people were, for the most part, honest, and that if you were to give your friend $5 for his allegedly legit limited edition holographic Charizard pokemon card, that it would in fact be legit, and not a counterfeit, regular edition holographic Charizard card deceptively and maliciously glued to an embarrassingly pedestrian Polywhirl.
When we find out that none of these things are true, however (fucking Polywhirl), we suffer a fall from grace of sorts. The more we find out, the further we fall. We come to realize that “no trans fat” really just means five times the amount of regular fat, that laser tag guns don’t actually shoot visible beams of light like they do in the commercials, and that the batteries for them are never, ever included.
The result is this—that we suspect falsity in all things first and foremost. Our minds are lie detectors first, calculators second, scales and gauges third, but open never; and how could they be, when in addition to these chinks in our armor there are Madoffs and Limbaughs and Gagas and Jonases all competing for our hatred and disgust and resentment, all attempting to disarm us with their flamboyant and inescapable cheapness? No, injustice and insincerity are not new inventions. But now, more than ever, they seem to manifest themselves in the faces of the aforementioned like ugly, blind, persistent rodents that never cease to be the things to guard oneself against. If only life were a giant game of whack-a-mole, and we hadn’t misplaced our mallets.
So we give up, we give in, and we agree to go along for the ride. We tacitly consent to being pigeonholed by parents, politicians, priests and professors into corporate warriors and pseudo-compassionate fools. This is nothing new. In fact, it’s sickeningly cliché. We live in a world as uncertain as it is competitive, and as user-friendly as it is dangerous. We are taught to simultaneously love, respect, and market ourselves to such an untenable degree that we find morality in impossibility and solace in the banal predictability of reality television.
So what do we do about it?
We look for love. We make music. We become nihilists, and call ourselves hipsters. We waste our brains on Facebook and Family Guy, and we write articles on the internet about how much we hate hating everything. Perhaps, one day, we’ll actually start resenting something enough to do something about it.
-Jason Moreira
Follow us on Twitter or Friend us on Facebook! Leave a Comment -
MORE»