Do you ever read the Comments section of online articles?  If you don’t, you really should start doing so.  These comments will take you through the entire gamut of emotions; joy, fear, shock, anger.  I mean there is nothing funnier than somebody with a Rebel flag on their Facebook page talking about how “we need to take the country back.”  From whom?  That is a rhetorical question.  Billy Joe Bob means minorities and women.  In fairness, during the Confederacy blacks were slaves, women were bearing children and making dinner, and Mexicans had been pacified north of the Rio Grande.  Ahh, nostalgia.  An American favorite.

So, Millennials are a bunch of pussies.  That’s what I hear.  I hear this on comment boards.  You are also entitled and comparable to snowflakes.  But mostly you are pussies.  In fact, an old man wrote the other day that if the WW 2 generation got into it right now with the Millennials, they would kick your ass.  In your face, you video game playing, loafer wearing, non-racist pansies.

In this spirit of this challenge, I would like to suggest the following resolution.  Using one of those new-fangled computers, a random list of three hundred twenty-five year old males and three hundred males aged seventy to eighty-five will be generated.  These people will represent their respective generations.  “Gamers versus Geezers- Answering the Challenge.”  (This name is trademarked and anyone using it will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law- Pow. Pow. Pow.)  Anyway, these randomly selected warriors will be taken by bus to Area 51 in the New Mexican desert.  They will be armed with forty-two inch oak sticks and made to march on each other.  Whoever successfully eliminates the other is the winner.  This solution is both simple and elegant.

As a member of Generation X, I will agree to officiate.  Generation X.  I’ll bet you haven’t heard of them in a while.  We are the generation that nobody wants to deal with.  We are too disillusioned to ever get along with the Boomers or WW2 folk, but way too grumpy for the Millennials’ taste.  Speaking for all of us, that is the way we like it.  And when you are beating each others’ brains out in the desert, we will enjoy it very much.  Do you know how annoying our lives have been?  You all suck.  The people older than us took every resource they could get their hands on.  The people younger than us expect us to give them what little we have.  You can’t find your way to the grocery store without Google maps, but you can always remember to ask for money.

I haven’t forgotten they have made another Star Wars, either.  Get your own series.  What about Harry Potter?  That wasn’t enough?

I’ll make you a deal.  Win the death match and we are even.

I need my Social Security.

 

I was going to write another post about Siri.  You know why?  Because I can’t remember anything any more.  Sometimes I try to rationalize my diminishing mental capacity.  It is because life is so hectic or because I just know so many things.  Of course, this is all to keep from facing reality.  I’m on the downhill slide and the sled is picking up speed.  Anyway, did you ever wonder where Siri is?  And is there a real woman behind that haunting, mechanical voice.

I feel better now.  Happiness is gained by living in an alternate reality.  Why do you think religion does so well?  It certainly isn’t the excitement value.  Have you ever been to a church service where the pastor goes overlong on his sermon?  No one likes that.  They aren’t there to listen to some clown talk.  They just want to make sure that god knows they care.  And to be able to look down their noses at the neighbor who is too lazy to get out of bed on Sunday morning.  I heard he is a drinker.

Speaking of nostalgia, do you remember when there were dedicated drinkers?  If you went to the bar now or six months from now, they would be sitting in there spot, pounding taps of some shitty beer because it was cheap.  Those guys really knew how to live in an alternative reality.  They always had four or five songs that they played on the jukebox.  And it was an eclectic mix; Johnny Cash, Kid Rock, the Doors.  If they were really drunk, they would sing along, pounding out the beat on the bar.  Then the bartender would tell them to calm down and threaten to kick them out.  Sometimes they would stop their pounding.  Sometimes they would get tossed.  Que Sera Sera.  Doris Day sang that song.  I’ll bet there have been a few drunks who have played it on the jukebox.  It kind of lends itself to slurred accompaniment.

Those guys always had short, ordinary names.  Ralph or Toby or Buck.  Their real name may have been Ezekiel, but Skip was a hell of a lot easier to remember after sixteen Grain Belts.  Ah, memories.  What ever became of you Toby?  Have you gone to that great barstool in the sky?  And does Jesus let you play the 500 miles song?  “I’m gonna’ be the man who walks right back to youuuuuuu,” you sing after a few, your arm draped over Jesus’ shoulder in a show of camaraderie.  I don’t know if Jesus is a drinking man, but he made you that way.  So, who knows?  He at least takes a shot of wine now and then.  Maybe he will throw down a few Grain Belts on his birthday.  Wooooooo!!  2016 years old, bitches!  Pow.  Pow.  Pow.  Still going strong.  Does somebody have a dollar?  I want to tee up a little Cash.

Oh, yeah.  That’s right.  Cash is right over there.  Hey, Cash, let’s here a little music.  “I shot a man in Re-nooooo, just to watch him dieeee.  When I hear that whistle blowin’, I lay my head down and cryyyyyyy!!!!”

Tob-eeeeeeee!  Glad you died, man.  It was getting boring as hell up here.  Not that hell is boring, mind you.  I was there once, you know.  Truth is, I would have stayed longer, but Dad wouldn’t have it.  Said it looked bad.  Anyway, glad to see you.  You’re damn right we have the 500 miles song.

If you want, I could just kill those guys.  Save the dollar, get a live performance.  I think they’re Irish or something.  You know those guys like to drink.

Britney Spears says that “mean people suck.”  This is both profound and true.  Vampires, for example, are mean.  Though I am not certain as to whether they actually quality people.  I’m sure there is some definition for personhood.  Maybe being Undead excludes one from being a person.  It’s a point to ponder.  I can say with certainty, however, that vampires are mean.  It is not very nice to bite someone and drain their lifeblood.  At least most people wouldn’t consider that a very nice thing to do.  Who the hell knows what some people are into?  Anyway, I digress.

Prior to my vampire tangent (though I am a big vampire fan, I must confess), I mentioned Britney Spears.  She is, or at least was, a celebrity.  Because of this, people are interested in what she has to say.  I find this remarkable because of a couple things.  Britney has little formal education.  Britney isn’t very intelligent.  Ergo, Britney will be running for the Republican nomination when she is old enough.  Pow.  I love getting in those political shots.  Remember when I said I wasn’t going to politicize this blog?  That was complete bullshit.  And you fell for it so easily.  You have to learn to judge people by what they do, not what they say.

After all, I can say anything.  For instance, I am god (I don’t know which one, this is just an example).  Look at all the things I know about Britney Spears.  If you give me some money, I’ll make sure you get into heaven.  Payment received, golden ticket earned.  If you give me enough money, some of it will surely trickle down to you (if you’re worried I might not invest all of it in your Heaven Ticket).  Win, win.  Also known as the Double Pow.  Or Double Pow Pow.  I can never remember which.

Anyway, back to vampires.  I don’t know about you, but I find them much more interesting than real life.  Imagine if they were real.  I’ll bet the bar business would tank.  I surely wouldn’t go in a bar at night knowing there might be vampires lurking about.  Also, I would only attend matinee movies.  Movie theaters would be an excellent venue in which to ply one’s vampiric trade.  A vampire could turn him or herself into a bat and hide right along the wall of the theater.  Then, after people are sufficiently inattentive due to the movie, the vampire could casually turn back into human form.  If the vampire worked their way from back to front, it could be a real slaughter.  Geeks in yoda t-shirts, soda spilling brats, horny teenagers- all dead.  And when the vampire was done, he (or she) could pull off their cape to reveal a cool t-shirt.  It could say something like “Vampires Do It in the Dark” or “This Movie Sucks” or “I Killed the Popcorn Guy and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt.”

Or “Chester’s Bar.”  There is a real Chester’s Bar.  It’s kind of a dive, but I am not that choosy.

 

Do you know the song “Teenage Wasteland?”  No, you don’t.  It’s not called “Teenage Wasteland.”  It is called “Baba O’Reilly.”  Apparently, that was the Who’s way of being artsy.  I find it rather irritating myself.  I guess the name was a combination of the names of a couple of gurus.  That was in a time when there were a lot of gurus around.  Like Charles Manson.  All gurus, it seems, are not equal.

Anyway, a “Bullet with Butterfly Wings” is another nonsense title masquerading as art.  The song should be called “Rat in a Cage.”  But it isn’t, mostly because Billy Corgan is a pompous ass.  Have you seen Billy Corgan lately?  He is still bald, except now he has the body of a seasoned softball player.  He should also put away the Chuck Taylor’s.  They aren’t cool if you can’t see them past your expansive abdomen.  Billy has parted ways with the rest of the Smashing Pumpkins.  Broken to pieces is that band.  However, Billy has reassembled some new Pumpkins. They are all young and hip and very much admirers of Billy.  As Billy fashions himself as some sort of Svengali, I am sure this situation suits him very well.  Interestingly, Svengali is just another word for guru.  It may not seem like it, but all of these posts have a plan.  You just have to feel them.  Don’t worry, I will show you the way.

Speaking of guru type folk, you don’t see as much crazy religious death cult action as you used to.  Sure, people throw around the phrase “drink the Koolaid” all the time, but how many of them know who Jim Jones was?  Damn few, I’ll guarantee you that.  For a while there, these guys were all over the place.  David Koresh in Waco.  The guys in the Nikes who killed themselves so the aliens could transport them away.  Billy Graham.

Did you know that Billy Graham is still alive?  He must have made a deal with Satan.  I can’t see another explanation.  Unless he was with the Nike aliens for a while and then they dropped him back off.  I don’t blame them if this is the case.  He is annoying as hell.  Of course, the aliens could have given us a break and dropped him off somewhere else.  Venus, for example.  I guess it’s a case of you raised him, you deal with him.

I wonder if these aliens know the aliens who made the pyramids?  I suppose it is possible that they are one in the same.  Of course, Ben Carson doesn’t believe aliens had anything to do with the pyramids.  He says that Joseph built them as elaborate, artistically pleasing grain bins.  And you said the Jews had no style.

You know what would be a good name for a band? Nike Aliens. Their first single could be “Jumpstart Turtlehead.”  But it should really be called “Billy Loves Ben.”  Take a while to mull that one over.  You’ll get there.

Pow.