Why the Baby Boomers Can Go to Hell (And Why Generation X Can Suck it Too)

The title may seem harsh, unless of course you are a member of my generation- the Millenials. If you’re one of us, this may actually ring with the sweet sound of truth. For you see, even for all it’s harshness I do not believe any argument soon to be presented lacks much in validity. If you disagree, you’re probably too old to really understand what our truly unique situation is. I don’t expect you to understand. That’s always been your biggest problem.

But anyway.

As defined generally by the conglomerated information on Wikipedia, the generation break up is as follows:

Baby Boomers – 1943-ish to the early 60’s

Generation X – Mid-ish 1960’s to the start of the 80’s

Millennials – Mid-ish 80’s to around the start of George W’s 2nd term

Now that we have these terms very loosely defined, the argument can begin proper.

I will begin by outlining the general complaints against my generation by the prior two. They will almost inevitably say that we are lazy and fully incapable of the strength of character that they posses. They will say that we stare at our phones all day and watch too much television and that our music is bad. They’ll say that we have never worked as hard as they have and have had so many more opportunities than they could even imagine. They’ll say that we don’t understand true struggle like they do and that our values are all out of order. This is general of course, and mostly based upon what I have heard said myself about those around my age.

Sound about right? Not wholly incorrect in every way but this is all said while being totally ignorant to any complaints about those parties initiating the primary complaints. Us Millennials have our faults and I am often one of the greatest opponents against many of the behaviors of my peers. The difference is that they are my peers and their faults are mostly a product of the world that you damn boomers have made.

So if you don’t mind- cram it, because I won’t have such ignorance striding around in force on my planet any longer. What follows will be my judgment upon these older generations as a whole, so don’t try and mention individuals who may have done a little bit of something admirable because it wasn’t enough to undo the rest of the damage.

I do believe that the Greatest Generation is justly named, though their faults are present and potent just the same the same as the rest. For better or for worse, they fought and built a might that the world had never seen and created a way of life that had never truly existed before. Those who lived long enough to come back home after what our history remembers as one of our greatest triumphs over societal evil, were able to build the most stable and satisfactory state of life those outside of the elite classes had ever seen. They did this in the hope that life would continue to improve with each passing generation, similarly to those who fought the British Empire on the east coast a few score years prior. They left that terror that only mass destruction men cause each other can have deep in their hearts and minds, and aimed to give their children a life without such burdens and fear.

It really is a shame how fat their children grew off the teat and what rotten greedy brats they’ve turned out to be.

Let’s begin to debunk some of the distasteful opinions of my brothers and sisters made by our collective living elders.

We’re lazy and don’t work as hard-

What a way to start, I mean, where do I begin? How about with this little two word phrase wonder that has plagued all those recently out of or about to go into that fabled and prophesied world of higher education.

Unpaid Internships.

Now a friend of mine who got a Masters in some form of business education had told me of this idea of opportunity cost. The idea, for those of you who don’t know, breaks down to essentially the weight of value of what you choose to labor for. Per essempio, if you are willing to do something without monetary compensation the outcome of that time must hold a high value to you and your future. It can ultimately be simplified to money versus time, and which has more value at that moment. As young people, we are told we have a lot of time and that we should be making money with all of it.

Too bad there’s none to be made. I can’t really say why I brought up opportunity cost, since it does’t really enter in to the discussion of unpaid internships which are easily the most common form of internships. Now I held an unpaid internship for a six month period at a conglomerate national broadcasting company just over a year ago. I worked on two shows simultaneously and was considered among the best in my local intern pool. All in all, it seems to have been worth dick to me other than it’s help in inspiring villains for my novel. Other than that, no one I’ve sent applications to seemed to care very much.

To throw some statistics at it, it looks like unpaid interning works just as well as not interning at all. Those with those fabled paid internships turn out alright, but who wants to be so addicted to a single aspect of their soon-to-be work life that they can spend every waking moment being consumed by it?

To throw some more statistics at it, here’s some youth unemployment in addition to what the cost of all these able young bodies being unemployed might be.

And just from my own experience, I live just outside of the world’s biggest financial metropolis and even there the idea of an entry level job seems a fairy tale. Even with a few good connections, a fairly impressive resume, a fresh haircut and a positive attitude- you’re unlikely to get a call back. And of course there is the paradox of the lowest level jobs that one can find, all require anywhere from 2 to 5 years experience.

So on to the next one.

We stare at our phones and have entertainment addiction- 

Now this one is tough to deny, so tough in fact, that I deem in impossible and won’t argue against it. But that still doesn’t leave us to blame for it.

It’s heard all the time as a damnation of younger generations that they depend on their phones and tablets, just as those before were wasting away in front of television screens and Walkmen.

Here’s the thing though, who buys them that s*#t? The average 16 year old makes no where near enough to afford such technologies, not even considering the subscriptions to cable and telephone companies to make them function and connect with other devices, so it’s clear they aren’t getting them themselves. How could a parent blame their child for using the device that was bought for them? If you really thought it was that bad, you should have never gotten it for them. Or you should have at least trusted that the values and virtues that your parenting had instilled in them led them to the true understanding that despite how much they like their iPhones and Pad and whatever, that these things can never hold the power that the physical world around them will inevitably have. I was taught that much and now I grow so sick of the constant connectivity and the seeming impossibility from escaping it.

Not to say that technology isn’t a tool. It most certainly is and despite the cries of our addiction, my generation is able to wield tech better than anyone thus far, despite all the nonsense that is tied with it.

Which brings me to the saturation of nonsensical entertainment which we should see as a tri-partisan issue, considering we all suffer from it is someway. Be it the Real Housewives of Where Ever or scrolling through whatever social media to find things you don’t really care about about people you sometimes only vaguely know, we all have our vices. Just because the screen is placed in the middle of your living room instead of in your pocket, doesn’t make it any less brain melting. If a growing Millennial became annoying, you could just pop it in front of the TV and let it’s mind become sucked in. And it was the Boomers and Gen Xers who really turned the TV into the advertisement and name brand slinging monster it has now become, so there should be no complaint from them that their kids were always bugging them to buy shit that they didn’t need, or even really want.

As far as our music being bad, I’d agree if you are discussing the corporate pop that is flashed around the TV and whatever is left of the radio. That stuff is formulated nonsense that takes mediocre talent and dresses it up with lights and auto-tune and designer clothes and shot from the many cannons of the media conglomerates of the western world. That stuff is garbage and far too many listen to it but even with all that, our art sneaks through.

The music of so many young artists has reached such experimental heights of genre blending and creation and our ability to wield technology as we do, allows for a bypass right around the conglomerated scheme. We make our music and can distribute it ourselves and despite some clunkers, a lot of this stuff is starting to get really good. Dig the brainchild of a 24 year old Brooklyn based trained composer below featuring my future ex-wife on lead vocals.

Or this 20 year old bloke

For the sake of ending this rambling before it gets out of control, we’ll make one more counterpoint.

We don’t understand true struggle and our values are all out of order


So we don’t know struggle huh? We don’t have the right kind of values huh?

I believe this deserves a quote from the man I worship like the pious do their prophets.

Dear future generations: Please accept our apologies. We were rolling drunk on petroleum,” once said the great Kurt Vonnegut.

Now there are people who want to be sensitive to the beliefs of others no matter how much they disagree. I am not one of those people. Since the birth of the industrial age in the Western world, humans have been trying to kill this planet and most things on it.

But Mother Nature is trying to kill us right back. Whether you have sense enough to believe it is our fault or not, the whole planet is getting warmer, the seas are getting dangerously high, weather is getting more extreme and the air is more and more unfit to breathe. Now this subject is under debate still for rather idiotic reasons as our clock keeps ticking. These elected officials we have in charge of making the laws that could help to turn this whole thing around can’t seem to get to any sort of progress on this issue, when they even bother to show up to work. I wonder if that has anything to do with the massive amount of Boomers in Congress or how a bunch of elite old coots pay to make sure people keep arguing so their pockets can stay fat until they die. I imagine that there is a connection.

I would figure that connection has a good bit to do with a failing global economy and the inability to abandon the constant increase of profit business model.

I get it though, really, I do. When fossil fuels began being used the world was such bigger place and we seemed so much smaller. They just couldn’t comprehend that what they were doing could actually damage an entire planets. But those were the generations way before the Greatest. I find it harder to forgive the Boomers and Xers. For the better part of their lives, there has always been an awareness of man’s effect on the world around us but their voluntary ignorance always overcame any warning.

So many like to say that there’s no money in renewable energy and although I could disagree, it’s more important to say that maybe, just f@#$ing maybe, it’s not about making money. Maybe for once they could sit there with the limited time they have left in power, they could actually try and do something for the next generation instead of worrying that the way they like things may have to change. Maybe, just f@#$ing maybe, they could actually do something to give the younger generations a better life across the planet.

But I won’t hold my breath. That generation took the American dream and made it into their own little ponzi scheme while trying to pass the blame onto their children. It’s up to us to clean up their mess and I hate to say it gang, but our time to do so is shorter than we think. Our civilization is reaching a make or break point on so many levels and if we don’t start acting now, we’ll all be doomed. I don’t mean to sound grim but it’s just the state of affairs we’ve been left with. I don’t doubt we can do it but I do doubt that all of us realize we now have to. We are left with the task our parents couldn’t be bothered to take care of and if you have any hope of having a family of your own, you’d better do your part.

I’m trying to do mine as best I can but it sure ain’t easy.


Sunday Morning Thoughts 3.10.13: Job Posting Confessionals

So it’s Wednesday, big deal. So the last one of these was a month ago? Wanna fight about it? I’ve been busy… sort of. It’s a story whose details are not terribly exciting or anything like that. Besides, the more relevant point would be where I am standing now.

Which is… huh… ummm… good.

Yeah, crazy as that sounds I’m doing pretty damn good. Some parts of my life are great, or grand, or spectacular. Others are not so much but that matters not, as the overall standing and feeling as I click away now is pretty damn good. Which for those of you not savvy with the hip lingo, is better than just doing good, or ok, or swell or anything like that.

How did I get here? Well that is none of your damn business friend. No offense intended but… no actually, offense intended. Sorry for the slip up there.

But seriously though, I’m not going to tell you how but I will tell you why. It diverges from the point, you see. I’m not going to waste this here moment in the present for something idling off into the past. This moment is for the future which I am now dangerously hurdling myself into.

I don’t know how to stop it, or slow it down, or reverse it but judging from how things have come to be, I say fuck it. Let’s ride this thib out and see where it goes.

So we have things to attend to which we will discuss now.

First, the spring is upon us and any true sentient being should understand how damn important that is. The dreary winter is ending and we are going to be infested with life all around us where there was once so much dead. Beautiful dead, those few times when we managed to get some snow on the ground. But that death has brought life and the cycle continue, which to me, has to be a sign that things are still doing ok.

Winter ended up being a reminder that things are not well, holding high temperatures and a few renegade snow storms. A rather dreary spirit all around.

Second, though this is in no particular order of importance, would have to be the pressing matter of you, the universe, getting me employed. I would preferably like to have a job that pays enough so I can live and occasionally have a beer or six, like a responsible adult is able to do. Now I know it seems like I should be the one making the effort but I figure that I have so much work to do beyond these first few steps of life, that I could just skate by. You know?

Not happening? Well, it was worth a try. Alright, you damn universe, I’ll play your game but prepare for endless pranks and shenanigans once I reach my power. My trickery shall know no equal.

Not buying that either? Fine, I’ll do all that ‘get a job’ stuff that the rest of the humans my age are doing.

Pardon my lack of enthusiasm but I just don’t really like those odds. Can you blame me though? Things are bad, even here in the empire, and no one is talking about anything getting better. Here and there, little victories pop up only to splash drops of light on the huge and vast landscape of corruption, waste, hate and violence in this world. You can’t ignore it and yet everyone does.

And what am I supposed to do? Work my way up the ladder and watch as everything starts to fall around me? Reach the top to hold nothing but ashes in my hands?

Well there I go, potentially exaggerating again. I should have just immediately professed, simply, that I am afraid. Petrified really. I have to take part in a lot of the things that I’ve only been speaking of with oh, so much zeal from the safety of books and classrooms, with a few glimpses of the dysfunction in the adult human world. So I just have to adjust, as I’ve known I would. It just is, dig?

Third, and of equal importance to all the rest, would be this matter of one maintaining a soul is such a treacherous land. I live in a place that has gotten so fat on its own self righteousness, they have forgotten what made them anything even close to right in the first place.

This nation o’mine was created on the idea that the guys who made it might be wrong, and probably were, and probably hoped to be. Yet they knew enough, that if they created a place where a man could exist in comfort, without excess, and worked at something that could feed and sustain his fellow man, in all areas of healthy human life, that whole peace thing would get figured out. They considered a bit of philosophy and existentialism to be vital for the continuance of man.

Of course at the time, this would have only applied to white males who already owned stuff but this flaw was known. Sacrifices, breaks eggs, fight omelets with fire. You know, that sort of thing. Shitty reasoning but hey, times were shitty. But they trusted that the future would continue to bring enlightenment to the lives of all, or something like that.

We messed up at some point after that. I can’t tell for sure when. History says one thing but I’ve only been around for a few trips around the sun and really only remember the events of the last ten years or so. And even then, and really, even now, I have the lens of the point of view I currently hold. I just like to think that has developed a little bit.

Fourthly, and possibly most important but that’s up to you (my money is on most important), would be remembering a little something when dealing with your fellow man. All of them. And I mean humans, not gender specific.

Whether you want to believe that we are all the same or that you are more special doesn’t matter. We are stuck with each other on this rock. Whatever imaginary borders or beliefs we make up doesn’t change our circumstance. Until we figure out somewhere else to go and how to get there, on Earth we shall stay. Unless of course, you know, doom, destruction and all that.

How? This time you shall get it, or at least as much as I have to offer.

We as a species are unbelievably irresponsible with our technology. We are also irresponsible with our values and our treatment of others. We have, as a total species, harvested enough energy to literally, not figuratively, destroy a planet. This planet. We have that kind of power and yet my parents are still going on to each other about the electric bill? I don’t know who came up with this use for massive amounts of energy, but if you do, kick him in the crotch.

We are addicted to entertainment and of a truly awful quality. I thought I broke my phone and went a few days without one and I tell you, I remembered what freedom felt like. No one could get me. But the isolation that occurs today without one is noticeable.

To fix it would be simple, and is simple. Unfortunately, we’ve gotten very bad at simple things. You just have to stop and look around. Forget everything you think you know and look around. What you see is your reality and you are responsible for it. Play nice with others and don’t be greedy. That’s all it takes.

And if by any chance you are an employer who is potentially looking to hire the human being you suspect is behind this rather drawn out rant, I would like to share something with you. If any of these words resonated to you and share at least the very vague belief that all of us and no one else have to fix our own world, then you sound like the kind of person I want to work for. And please, trust me when I say that when I want to work on something, it gets done.

I will not confirm or deny my identity, though it may already be known.

Sunday Morning Thoughts 2.10.13

If I had been able to hold on to all of those memories I’ve managed to let slip away, what kind of man would I be today? Would I be different, or better, or just the same. Would this heart of mine, still recall the pain? The one that I’ve crafted for myself. The one of my own design. To this past, there is no future. To this life, there may be no divine.

But who am I, to say anything at all? I am but the biggest fish, in a pond so very small. I might have made up the prophesized call which has to tell me not to stall. And here I am, barely at a crawl. A man of dreadful winters, but never any fall.

Unless you speak of grace, as this tumble I know well. It is and seems easier to buy than sell for no one cares to expel hard earned nothingness for something. They halt before the thought to bring enough gusto to make this radio sing. But this speech lacks point, as it was known to be. For this mind of mine may be too free, to dream up shackles for the world to see and say someday “that boy’s been through hell with no blood to pay.”


If you asked why, I’d give you no reply that was worth a lick of anything but empty words painted prettily for the ears. Which is exactly what I’ve done. I’ll promise myself that I will not continue, but that is yet to be seen. I like the words but I’d rather have them full of something.

So Brian, this craft that you often proclaim as yours seems to be ever eluding to you. Why might that be? Dost thou have any kind of good reason? Or are you just lazy and insufficiently able to stand on your own? Are you not as good as you seem to always think you are?

I’m sorry, but I can hardly tell who I am anymore. I have created this identity, this alter-ego, this monster of a person and now I may be coming to hate it. I waved to a human that I know at my school, where I know fucking everyone. This was a day that was not today but has only a few yesterdays between here and now. I was tired and unenthused, as my day was stretched out with nonsense and my flesh had grown weary. I was not sad, I just didn’t throw out some stupid line and do a dance when I said hello, so this person assumed something was wrong. The asked if I was alright with concern that seemed genuine.

My personality has become entertainment for others, as I already know my anger makes people laugh. Whether this was my intent doesn’t remove the idea that is now. I am a jester. I’d join the circus but I don’t have any skills that they’re looking for.

But to change subjects now, let’s discuss something else. What? Yes I can do that. I have power enough to guide you down one direction and then pull you away from it. Why? Because I can silly.

So the new subject at hand was to be comprised of something but I seem to have had it slip my mind, as can often happen when you’re not paying attention. Or paying too much attention. Something like that.

But in the spirit of progression, I will trundle along to no particular end. I could devise and escape plan, or a coup of sorts. I could sit and write about nothing which is a strange idea when you begin to think about it more than you should. I say I write and call myself a writer but I only type. I don’t even produce the physical work as I toil. It’s digitized and oh so easily erased. All of this could disappear for eternity if the right steps were taken.

But I suppose fire does a good job with those actual writing, but it still makes some sort of ash.

I’ve never been, but you can go to Pompeii over on the Mediterranean and look at ancient humans as the died. They’re just frozen there in the final moments of a terrifying death they didn’t quite understand. You can take pictures of them. I don’t know if they let you too close to them, but I imagine there are many pictures that your mother would find inappropriate. I mean, look at what people do with the Leaning Tower.


But they’re hunting for a man in the west. This is the first time that a drone is being used on U.S. soil. The fellow has killed some people and is on the run in the snowy mountains of California. He wrote what the media is calling a ‘manifesto’ about what he is intending to do and why he is doing it. It’s addressed to America. It’s quite good. I disagree with his methods but there are those who believe you have to fight fire with fire still.

They’ll find him, I’m sure. They will also kill him I imagine. Cali has the death penalty still, so he may get a trial if he’s caught. I imagine it’s more likely he’ll die in combat. This man does not seem intent on going down and is more than qualified to keep a fight going. However, any of his words will most likely be discredited for the most part. There may be some discussion but there always has been. That’s the problem with talking, it’s not doing. The problem with doing anything though, is that people talk about it after.

Killing people will never stop killing or get peace. People always like a few other people so if you kill one, there’s a grand chance you’ve just made a new killer. Wars have only gotten deadlier. The world seems to have become more dangerous and all we’ve been doing is fighting more. Killing a terrorist will only create more. It’s the same as killing someone’s hero. Someone will be inspired to pursue that dream at the same cost. In fact, there are few differences between a terrorist and a hero. It’s just how you choose to look at it.

There, how’s that? I didn’t talk about girls once.

Sunday Morning Thoughts 1.13.13: Response to Protesting Rights Violations on Social Media

Should there be an agenda for all this? I’ve never been a fan of too much structure. Or poorly planned structure. I suppose if it’s designed to adapt, it wouldn’t be bad to have something like that going on. Still, I don’t think agenda’s in their very design allow for much relief from rigidness. That and creators of said agendas are always quick to anger when things go against their plan.

I dig where it comes from though. Here was their neat little plan for how they would sculpt their future, all dressed up and divine, and in comes the rest of us humans, spitting and shitting on everything we can. Or so it would appear from that perspective. Or my perspective.

So we’ll abandon the idea of any kind of plan for this moment and indefinitely into the future. I’m shit at making plans anyway.

I find it rather incredible, this life thing, and please remove the idea that word always means a good things. Don’t think it is all bad either. It just is, despite my inability to understand why.

And to further prove that I’m terrible at planning, it is now Tuesday as I write this but that has provided me with a topic of discussion. I thought several times about posting some statement to quell the anger of those outraged over gun control measures on one of my social media venues. Then I thought a bit more and realized that I would rather speak here.

So Governor Andrew Cuomo of this great state of New York and the NY legislature passed a new gun control law and the claims of unconstitutionality have been echoing across my Facebook feed. To those people I would like to ask, why you now care about the Constitution? Because you think the government wants to take your guns and now you can’t protect yourself from tyranny? Because we are going into a new kind of socialistic dictatorship that will leave us powerless to defend ourselves? Because guns are the only thing that keeps us safe from the crazies of the world?

With all due respect, fucking blow me. Don’t bother getting mad now because this Constitution you claim you care so much about is nothing more than a piece of paper for the fat-cat owners of this country to wipe their asses with. I’m sure you’d like some examples. You’ve got it slick.

We’ll start with the big one. Numero Uno of the Bill of Rights states that we have freedom of press. So why is that we rank 47th globally in freedom of press? We’re on the same level as Romania and Argentina. Mali is ranked higher than us. Look it up if you don’t believe me, I’ll wait.

Done? Excellent. We’ll leave that one for now because I could go on about that for much, much, much longer. Next on the list, we’ll head over to the 4th Amendment which guarantees our privacy and protection from illegal search and seizure.

Bahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha… hahahahahahaha… hahahahahahaha…


I’m sure the computer program designed to monitor this very blog site is laughing right along with me. Two words friends: PATRIOT Act. That constitutional right is long gone.

Next up. Mr. Bradley Manning, who has been imprisoned for over 1,000 days now, which is almost 10 times longer than is usually expected to be maximum waiting time for a trial. And if you want to say he would be under the laws of the military, the Uniform Code of Military Justice says in Section 813, article 13, that there will be “no punishment before trial.” Deny it if you’d like, but he has certainly been punished for doing what he saw as truly just. And I, and many other agree with him.

That’s just a few of an absurd amount of unconstitutional actions taken way before people complained about losing their 2nd amendment rights which they still really haven’t. I don’t know how many of you have shot a gun, but I know I have. I also don’t know how many of you have seen a dying human, but I know I have.

I do know that assault weapons are defined in their name. They are not for hunting, or for protection. They are for assaulting. They are designed to tear through as much flesh as possible. They kill and do not require much skill in accuracy. They shoot as many bullets as fast as they can. They are literally killing machines.

And if you are worried about the government using force to control you, fret not. You didn’t stand a chance even with your machine guns. They have tanks, ships, jets, helicopters and bombs of all sorts of destructive power. And the best yet, drones which can be controlled from miles away and reign fire down from the heavens.

But you’re right, guns are not the problem. We are. The reason there are so many shootings, including a new one that happened today has to do with us. We are taught violence and aggression since being children.

I read something today, about one of those mothers who lost their child in Sandy Hook Elementary school. She described what happened to her son, as she saw his body or what was left of it. His jaw was blown off his face and most of his left hand was gone. She didn’t want people to think that “these little angels just went to heaven.” They were slaughtered in a place they were supposed to be safe in.

Guns are for killing and we like to kill. We have games about it and our films glorify it. We stupidly and ignorantly threaten that we are going to kill this person or that person. They just gave awards to people who made a movie about how we defied our own supposed values and hunted down a man to bring him what we called justice. We put the Nazi’s on trial and they killed millions. That Bin Laden fellow was responsible for a few thousand and did not get such justice.

Say what you want and get as mad as you want, you’ll only end up proving my point. I’m on the side of peace which very well may be the death of me someday.

Sunday Morning Thoughts 6.10.12

Another week and this story is still barely near being what you could call started which only makes it even further from being finished. I believe I’m going to make all of this stop right now.

I don’t know if I’m able to look into my future for any period over 25 years and predict that I am going to have to try and survive some pretty horrific things, including some sort of mass extinction of humans. What will cause such things can only be speculated, but the pressure is building up from all around and there’s only so much she can take. Humans have been too bitter and petty towards each other for far too long now. Unfortunately the acts committed for petty and often times stupid reasons hold much more harm than need be.

I feel that if I don’t stand up to something and start making some sort of noise about this, then I will have failed to serve any type of purpose myself and will fall to the likes of the sheep who will march slowly to their slaughter. Now I ask you, does that seem like any way to live?

I didn’t think so. I could be extreme but I’d rather say that I’m preparing for the worst. It’s better than believing that nothing bad could really ever happen to you just because it hasn’t happened yet. Anything could happen and some things that shouldn’t, do.

It’s probably not best to be all gloom and doom but I had a terribly wonderful dream the other night that really set me back a few hundred days. I’ve been trying to skip back to where I was, but it’s not that easy to pretend. Regardless, the dream and its contents are my own and I’d like to bury them by myself, if you don’t mind. My private choice to turn my mind into a graveyard could also have many unseen consequences, but I’m American. I don’t bother with concerns about consequence.

Here’s the thing though. I was speaking with a friend as we wandered through a park a few days ago. There is tide brewing that will effectively change the entire game, all within our lifetimes. Now here’s the hopefully part. There exists a group within this generation that is coming of age now, that has lost feeling towards their brainwashing efforts. This is not everyone of course, as many of you pigeons are not even aware to the ignorant evil that you feed. Many of us vegetate in front of mindless TV that couldn’t even be called entertainment. We waste our time on nothingness and dope our minds on drugs and crappy music. And then there’s those who fill their minds with bullshit pop politics fed to us from money making thrill machines that live under the guise of news. It’s these things that will lead to our doom.

However after spending all our lives in the over saturation of thought draining media, a few of us have found its effects to be wearing off. Satisfaction can no longer be found following the patterns set before us so we begin to act out. Some of us are criminals, or musicians or writers or actors. We are computer programmers and teachers and we are starting to find that this isn’t working anymore. And I mean any of it, the whole ruse is falling apart.

Naturally, none of really know what to do which would explain the Occupiers and the protestors across the world, from Montreal to Syria and Spain. We want to get upset and tell the powers that we need these things but as they have learned in Syria, the powers that be don’t care about the person, just the mob. Each part of the world deals with its mobs differently after all. Here in the states, we just get the occasion overly violent arrest and accidental death but the idea that it won’t get worse is a terrible one to hold. In America, we all fell asleep in front of the tube, only to wake and find that our congressman was looting our house.

I say all of this because I think it needs to start being said. I am a writer or at least I am in this moment, so my best bet to start moving where it needs to get is by writing. If I write this and someone reads it (such a novel concept these days… get it? Novel? Go back to sleep) then I may have helped them to break the brainwash. Someone had to dig me out, and I suppose it was really a few people.

But as I was saying, if I could convince one other person to start looking harder at what they see, then maybe they’ll share the wealth. We have no money and if you actually read about economics, you’d know that. We have no faith as half the churches are corporations and all of them seem to only care about selling themselves as better than the other. We are losing our nation and already have to the millions who hate this place because of 21st century imperialism.

This can still all be changed though. And if you’ve made it this far in this short essay of sorts, I urge you to help. I shouldn’t have to though. You should want to do it for yourself.

Breaking – Introduction

It started out as something that most people couldn’t see which is awful because it was in plain view, making a whole lot of noise and even had flashing lights on it. It was screaming for everyone’s attention and really only got a few people to notice it. Naturally, when those people went to go tell other people what they had found, those noble little whistle blowing souls were seen as either disruptions to the order of things and enemies to system, or mad beyond what our little human minds could even try to comprehend.

He saw it coming years ago but never really understood what he saw. His mind was busy.

I suppose you could say that all of this was the result of a sort of reincarnated romantic ideal. That’s not really important right now, just keep that in mind.

I suppose we can start in the middle and then work our way back and forth through both directions in time. But first, a few seemingly random facts about people involved in this will be spat in your direction. At first, these will mean nothing to you. Upon your second glance, they will still mean essentially nothing to you. Then you may forget about them and they may or may not jump back into play. Regardless here they are.

This is for the most part, a story about a person named Mitch. He was born about a decade before the 21st century. He had a family that loved him and was good in school.

In 1835, The United States of America paid off its national debt. Andrew Jackson was president. We haven’t come anywhere close since.

When Mitch was 18 years old he met a girl named Marianne. Their love was incredibly brief although he still thinks about her. He always wondered if she thought about him but always figured she probably didn’t. She broke the hard truth to him and said goodbye for the last time about two and a half years after they met. The truth was this, whatever they had was most certainly real, but it died a long time before. His last attempt at her heart was quite sad to watch, I’m sure. It was outside a bar on Easter morning. She turned and took a cab home and he wandered the streets until sunrise which was only a few minutes away.

Buddy Holly died in a plane crash on February 3rd, 1959. He was reincarnated into a young man in upstate New York who gets into a bit of trouble here in there. If he violates probation again though, he’ll have to go to jail.

When he was 20, Mitch went to a punk rock show in his town. Reincarnated Buddy Holly was there. The band wasn’t really his cup of tea but he was glad to be out of the house. He saw the words ‘Fuck a Poet’ written on the fence of the smoking area out back behind the theater and thought them very profound. It could have been a band name or a song name or part of a song. Could have been nothing, but he was sure it wasn’t.

The definition of the word terrorism is something along the lines of: the use of violence and threats to intimidate or coerce, especially for political purposes or a terroristic method of governing or of resisting a government.

Liberty is defined as freedom from arbitrary or despotic control.

Mitch was from mostly Irish decent which would explain his disdain for empires. He gets this from Robert Emmet, who was a not too distant ancestor of his, though he would never know that. Emmet started a rebellion in Dublin against Britain, but empires are tough to take on. This was in 1803. The rebellion just turned into a riot confined to the Thomas street area where he was hung for treason about two months later. He died still being in love with Sarah Curran whom he was not allowed to marry. No history or science can really prove the relation to Mitch at this point, but it’s there through some nameless bastard who eventually came to America.

On July 22nd, 2011, Anders Behring Breivik killed 77 people in Norway because he thought it was the right thing to do. His crusade had mostly teenagers as victims.

Mitch never really acted out. He was never arrested or suspended from school. He had to go to the school psychologist when he was ten but that was about it. Some girl on his bus told his teacher that he was talking about suicide with another boy. They were. They planned to jump off a bridge when they were in their 20’s. They had no idea what that really meant. Mitch still doesn’t.

Smoking marijuana has never directly led to the death of anyone, ever. Crime associated with the plant doesn’t count. It’s bullets that usually leads to those deaths and that is usually the result of money. And by usually, I mean always.

Mitch got caught smoking pot on his father’s birthday when he was 17. His father was turning 48. He got caught many times after that but never really thought much about it.

He lost his virginity when he was 18. This was not with Marianne. The girl who it was with was a very mean person but Mitch was convinced she wasn’t. All boys smarten up eventually. Mitch always thought he was too late.

In 1796, this new country called America signed a treaty with Tripoli that started with something like this: “As the Government of the United States of America is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion,—as it has in itself no character of enmity against the laws, religion, or tranquility, of Mussulmen.” Mussulmen means Muslim. The treaty had something to do with pirates.

At 21, he landed a job writing for a broadcast news program. He wrote stories that he thought were important and what the network told him to write. They would only ever air the things he was told to write about. Mitch always thought these stories were just stupid fillers to keep people occupied with the feeling that they knew what was going on. The stories they didn’t pick were always closer to the truth. People would just rather see a hedgehog that got stuck in a can of beans than how their government just made it perfectly legal to spy on citizens for whatever ridiculous reason they could possibly dream up. It’s the mass media and their famous sleight of hand.

Douglas McCrea was the main anchor for the news program that Mitch worked on for 17 years before he was hired. If you asked Mr. McCrea, he would have told his career died along with his soul sometime around 2004. He had been an alcoholic since the late 80’s but his passion kept everyone from knowing until decades later. Mitch idolized McCrea. McCrea, in return, mentored Mitch for the first six months of the job but he knew his hero was crumbling.

“If you want to change the world,” McCrea told Mitch once. “You’re sure as shit not going to do it working here.”

Mitch hadn’t even known he was here. He was at his desk working on one of those stories that the network was going to throw out. McCrea had read the story over his shoulder and thought it was brilliant, though he never said so. When Mitch turned around, McCrea had moved to the window and was staring at the busy streets below. It was 30 minutes until he went on air. No one knew anything but him.

“Out there,” McCrea mumbled over the whiskey.

“What’s out there?” Mitch asked.

“All the work that I’m trusting you to do,” He replied with a smile. He walked to up to Mitch and placed his hand on his shoulder. He smelt like a bar mat. Then he walked away and said nothing more.

He shot himself in the mouth on the set that night after going on what all the headlines referred to as the rant of an old, mad drunk. The control room was able to shut off the broadcast when he pulled out the gun, just before his brains decorated the wall behind him. Douglas McCrea was not killed in the name of god or for the good of the country, so they’re not allowed to show it on television. The funny thing was, he was probably the only to die in a long time and not have his cause be in vain.

Whether any of these will be relevant to this story is yet to be seen.

Sunday Morning Thoughts 2.5.12

There is no music playing right now. It is Friday and it is late, not in the evening but in the week and this is far over due. There were thoughts that I had before and then there are thoughts that I have now. The main factor is that the sun has gone down and I am still without a drink. That is my choosing at the moment however. Well, mostly because I need to get this done first. There’s an order to things.

Now concerning that order and the last few orders that I’ve received, I haven’t received them nor do I intend to. Because I am the hero, damn it. I am the anti hero. I am and always have been the hope and destiny that has been instilled and spilled into the nuclear family. I am the shine of light, or aren’t I? If I am that, then what are you? And if you claim to be that, what does it make him into? Some sort of monster? Some sort of villain or are you the villain, or I? I would bet a dollar on me, but I’d rather drink with it. Would you have a drink with me?

Being the anti villain or hero or chump seems to have worn me out like a shoe or a nerve or something else that wears after time and is inevitably tossed away. we stand at the edge of something and I don’t know what it is but it hums and it glows and it seems to be of some grand importance or the delusion is talking again. I wonder where to go now and what to do and if another pack should be bought and I know it should because I need to stand for what has been forgotten or I will be forgotten and I can’t stand the thought as long as I live. I won’t live to see if I’m forgotten and that may very be the point in all of this.

But allow me for a moment to get angry and develop  some sort of something that I know won’t do but I’ll be damned if I don’t try, try, try again. I want to hope and believe that there is justice and that I can stand for it but half of the time I spend thinking is about how benevolently evil I am which is impossible to be actually aware of. I have to wash my hands because they sweat too much and this keyboard is just plain awful and I never really learned how to type properly or effectively. Some fucking writer I am.

That was pointless. They will just continue to sweat for no reason that I am aware of. I just wanted to get up because this task is just far too daunting. I just wanted to stand and look at how grey my eyes look in the mirror. I like the idea of having grey eyes. I like the idea of having green eyes as of now, but I’d like grey someday. I used to like the idea of blue eyes but that has since gone. I’m wearing blue today, which would mean that my eyes will look more blue. I can say nothing of substance right now. My share of gold for a type writer and some whiskey and the stomach to handle it.

There’s 10 minutes left until I am going to get up and go out of this room and go where the world shall take me. I spent time with people and thought about things and I can only do that more until I figure out what it is I want or am supposed to do and if anything or any of my ideas of anything actually have some worth. I have spent my life wanting to be this lost soul cast away and aside and because of that is cursed to be the sight of intrigue for others. I wanted this and now I have to deal with it and myself. I have to show confidence when there is none by not showing my thoughts but show that I have them. I want you all to know that I spend my time thinking but I will never tell you what I actually think about because I’m ashamed and afraid. Even if you think I’ve told, I probably haven’t despite how much I talk. I don’t imagine it’s actually a very big deal, I just want to make it into one.