Posted by: JDM..... | November 6, 2009

Generations

I guess every generation has its “thing”. My generation’s version of the “Green” movement of today consisted of living in old school busses, yurts, and various other contraptions, raising goats or something, and dressing like they did in the nineteenth century. The central theme was to live for free and do as you pleased. Mom and dad sending a check periodically from their retirement home in Miami or wherever didn’t count, but quietly facilitated the pseudo-independence of more than a few.

I played for awhile, with my subsidy consisting of a hot shower and a decent meal a doizen or so miles down the road on occasion.

I bought an 11 acre piece of woods for a few bucks a month, contracted to dismantle an old shed and a small barn in exchange for salvage, borrowed an old box stove from a cousin, and built an 8 X 12 camp to live in. I did that for one northern winter and then moved on from that fiasco to an efficiency apartment in town, eventually settling for a regular job, a ten room house on the water with a car, a 4×4 truck, and a sports car in the driveway, and a mortgage like everyone else with a lick of sense.

Like just about every other generation, I suppose, “we did our thing” out of a sense of rebellion and a bit of anger, driven by adolescent chemistry and fueled by our impression of the world we found ourselves inheriting. We were pretty direct about it, too. We were rule breakers. If it horrified our elders, we did it. We screwed when, where, and who we wanted. We wore funny clothes, sang folk music, and got ripped on a regular basis. It was fun. Most of us survived, some made a hell of a lot of money from it, and like every other fad before, it burned out.

I don’t know why the next generation picked their particular drum to march to, but I get the distinct feeling they want everyone else to feel shame, guilt, and fear, and I don’t think they’re having any fun at all. In fact, it looks like a lot of work.

Where my generation told the older generation they could fight their own wars, we had a party to go to instead, today’s pickle-faced “Boomer” generation thinks nobody should have a war anytime anywhere for any reason without permits from 22 non-profit agencies and a bureaucracy or three. The mood seems to be that anything not labeled “organic” or packaged in a container manufactured from recycled fingernail clippings and printed in warm earth tones must have been produced by Dow Chemical and probably will make your skin fall off.

Today, if it isn’t “Green” or “Organic”, mutant mantras descended from the “politically correct” bleating of anal-retentive gurus of the Nineties, it doesn’t deserve to exist.

…..and these aren’t the bleatings of twenty-five year olds trying their wings, these are the absolutes of their parents, for cryin’ out loud.

When I turned twenty-one, my friends took me out on the town to get knee-walking puke on my shoes drunk. Not that such behavior was healthy or particularly wise in the long run, but I just don’t know what they do today for a right of passage ….probably give a guy a gift certificate for his first prescription of Viagra. I don’t know though. By the time one is old enough to even have sex these days, it’s been rendered so fraught with requisite procedures and permission slips one has to wonder if they find it worth the effort.

I don’t think the mid-Boomers would know a “party” if they fell into one. The new amusement seems to be angst. Lots of it. I don’t know what to make of their apparent inability to know what to make of it all. On the one hand, they seem to be trying to take a cue from my generation, what with concerns for the planet and all, but then they turn it into a mandate and a virtual religion.

The schtick of my generation seems to have been to “drop out”, at least that’s the way it is characterized in the lore and mythologies of the Sixties.  The mantra of the Neo-Crunchie-Granola  crowd seems to be the demand that they get to establish the high ground and everyone else is supposed to drop in.  The alternative is to be pummeled with guilt and shame reminiscent of Cotton Mather’s maniacal Puritan insistence that everyone breathe according to scripture and fart by the numbers.

We built hydro-generators, windmills, yurts, and so forth because, in addition to answering our emerging call to show some responsibility for the wellbeing of our planet, it was cheap, kind of fun, and it annoyed our elders. The Organically Green Global Warmists of today attend the Holy Church of the Giant Windmill seven days per week and demand tithing and oaths of allegiance from all.

To utter the slightest hint of awareness that no amount of windmills could ever meet the power requirements of this planet is considered heresy.

I once pointed out that some of the “windmills” of the Sixties were constructed out of junk gleaned from the town dump and seemed to work just fine.  I was met with widened eyes of horror and scoffs of derision. My self-appointed intellectual superior enlightened me with no small amount of condescension that, not only had “town dumps” (the phrase has to be spat, not spoken) been replaced by highly organized “recycling centers”, but the “wind generators” of today were designed and constructed by highly educated engineers using the finest materials.

I listened politely before reminding the irritating little shit that I and my great grandchildren had no desire to pay for such monstrosities, nor do we wish to spend a lifetime listening to and staring at them decorating every available horizon. But then, such irrelevancies as personal choice and economic freedom are of little concern to Organically Green Global Warmists.

Fortunately, there seems to be a generation emerging that really doesn’t give a rat’s south end and just wants to have fun.

Beware the temptation to curse the little bahstid dragging his chain-laden pair of size 90 jeans behind him and talking a language you don’t understand. He’s going to save the world in a few years. He’s going to need a lot more than a few billion “wind generators” to power his digital world, and will probably do something interesting and productive like complete the work on cold fusion, tap into the natural radiation of the universe, or perhaps convert the magnetic field of the earth into usable forms of energy.

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