Allow Me To Re-Introduce Myself (Vogue 73 Questions)

Allow Me To Re-Introduce Myself (Vogue 73 Questions)

Something that quickly becomes apparent to anyone who peruses this supposedly personal blog— it’s not all that personal. For reasons that might be better explained by a qualified therapist, I have geared my writing towards subjects that I can hold at more of a remove: books and sports and music and what kind of mean stuff the youths are saying. Of course, I would argue that all of these subjects are in fact the very threads that make up the lovingly if clumsily stitched-up quilt that is my heart. But then that same hypothetical therapist might ask— just what is that quilt covering?

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Let People Like Things: Stories from the home front of the millennial wars

Let People Like Things: Stories from the home front of the millennial wars

You don’t need to be Sun Tzu to know that it’s never a good idea to start a war on two fronts, but somehow that’s the strategically ill-advised position that millennials have been backed into, while two battles are waged along generational lines: one against our elders, and another against the youths that aim to depose us.

For many years, that first conflict was the only one we had to worry about, and the antagonists were the same group I suppose every generation clashes with at some point: our parents. The Baby Boomers, perhaps you’ve heard of them. That bloated, hegemonic generation of former hippies turned stone-cold capitalists, who forged most western political and financial systems in their own consumptive image.

In recent decades, the Boomers grew fond of blaming millennials for “killing” entire industries and traditions (mid-priced restaurants, breakfast cereals, diamond engagement rings, among a long list of others); they called us soft and spoiled and self-centred, and linked these failings to a malevolence of so-called “participation trophies” (trophies, I’ll point out, that none of us asked for, and that the Boomers had taken it upon themselves to design and dole out); and they explained away our financial insolvency as the natural consequence of our love of brunch. We responded to these criticisms mostly by rolling our eyes, while also pointing to the tanked economy and ruined planet as evidence that their generation wasn’t all that great either.

But that song has been sung a thousand times by now, and though the quarrels continue, the antipathy has been slowly ebbing into apathy. Blah, we’re spoiled, blah, they’re selfish, etcetera etcetera infinity. Like a sports rivalry nobody else cares about (apparently the Colorado Avalanche and the Detroit Red Wings have a whole thing?) our disagreements have dissolved into comfortable, boring background noise.

:Gen Z has entered the chat:

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