Generation “Why?”

By Max Warren

So, we’re back, after far too long a silence.

Today’s topic: Our status as “Generation Y” and all that that implies. Personally, I hate the title that’s been assigned to us by the sociologists–not only does it lack the style and panache of “The Greatest Generation” or “The Last Generation,” but for some reason it puts me in mind of a botanist categorizing a new species of plant. More important than all that, it situates us in relation to the Gen Xers who came before us. And I think that we’re an entirely different animal.

Generation Y, though, does have one thing going for it–the cute little play on words that forms the title of this entry. We, more than almost any group before us, asks “Why?” and was ask it incessantly and loudly. This is not wholly a good thing. Sometimes a generation has to act instead of just talk about acting–Generation X rarely ever picked up on this. We now run the risk of becoming, like that Danish Prince, “sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought.” Which is to say, we run the risk of making nothing of our talents and become ineffectual, empty and ghostly.

There are a lot of causes we could throw our considerable weight and energy behind. Sustainability, LGBT rights, third-world development–all of these leap immediately to mind. What each of us chooses to do, if anything, is our own business. I won’t advocate for any of the above from my interweb soapbox.

What I will say is this: Times are tough. And I don’t mean the recession/depression/whatever it is. Times for our generation are tough spiritually. We lack a direction, a goal and a cause. Our grandparents (maybe great-grandparents for some) had the nazis to fight. Our parents had their little abortive attempt at the Age of Aquarius (don’t get me started on how we were Betrayed by the Hippies, because I’ll go for hours.) Generation X–largely our older siblings and cousins–really bottomed out and felt the cynicism inspired by a lack of direction (what else could account for the success of Janeane Garofalo?) If we don’t want to fall into that same trap, well, we’d better get busy living or get busy dying.

So what’s stopping us from finding meaning? That, unfortunately, will have to wait until my next update, because it’s too far afield for this entry. I will, however, leave you with this passage from a great American writer named Max Warren:

Even in his darker moments, he always held on to the belief that they were working towards something–they they were growing, or learning, or getting closer. But, lately he was starting to realize that it was only the same goddamn scenes, playing on loop, over and over. They were all so desperate to feel something–to feel anything–that they were constantly falling and fucking into one another and only playing at being alive.
That was what got him. It was like they had all felt that someday, if they could just smoke enough cigarettes and drink and hold on for long enough, that something would happen–that it had to. Now, suddenly, there was the realization that it might not; that instead of waiting on life to start they had been living it. And it was absolutely terrifying.

Hope you all enjoyed today’s post. Comment it and accuse me of intellectual bankruptcy if you like. On tap for next time: How we have been betrayed by movies,music and television and why we should be angry about it.

Here’s looking at you, kids.

EC