Over the past few weeks I have realized that my generation have become, by and large, a bunch of sour and reactionary whiners. Indeed, I distrust much of "youth culture", do not own a cell-phone, and am in no way gender dysphoric, but on the other hand I do not spend my time bellyaching about the price of gas, those liberals, and the mommy state.
Sure, I sympathize immensely with the old fart on the bus who announced that everything hurt and all of us smelled bad. That grouchy statement he made is an appealing welt-anschauung as well as an existential battle cry.
But too many people middle aged and older are meanies.
I connect this with enjoying American style team sports, watching Fox News, and swilling beer. All three of those things lead to brain-rot and dessicated gonads, as well as undue sympathy for the overdog, crappy choices, and the slow, inexorable slide into an old age of dried prunes.
And fibre supplements.
Precisely the kind of rancid shitbags who voted for Trump.
On the other hand .....
I'm in my fifties. I smoke a pipe. Everything goes better with hot sauce.
Most days I'm full of caffeine, nicotine, and highly refined sugar.
I do not mumble to myself, or spill soup into my beard.
"Come here, young fellow or little miss, would you like some fine aged flue cured leaf, pressed into a brick and sliced by a venerable British company? It is exquisite!"
At some point I must persuade young vibrant people to take up tobacco, because when I am in my nineties, decrepit, and wheelchair-bound, I will need someone considerably younger to push me and my conveyance out into the only legally designated smoking area left, which will probably be the salt flats bordering the bay, so that I can enjoy a good smoke.
Their incentive will be a similar fondness for briars, rather than my company.
Which might be less than sparkling.
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