…Smile
1. Rumour has it… It’s 22 degrees today and word on Meteorology Street is Sydney’s in for an early and warm spring. I’ll hug the sun itself* if this is true.
2. The trouble with fun of being myself. Pretty much everything I do these days – from learning to working to socialising to interwebz – feels a little bit like a genuine celebration of unapologetic absurdity. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy to be a happy dork.
3. My peeps. Y’all make it worthwhile. Fo’ realz.
…Generation X
1. Undefined. To a value of X, Planet X, X number of things, the X factor - for a long time, possibly since the invention of mathematical expression, X has been the go-to letter for things undefined. This week, an allegedly prominent demographist said Generation X is a valley of nothingness (wedged between the peaks of greedy Baby Boomers and self-absorbed Generation Y-ers). In other news, ‘mono’ means one and ‘rail’ means rail.
2. What is X? As I was born in the Generation X-Y overlap, I feel qualified – read: postmodernly ironic enough - to define the indefinable. Here are some things Generation X have endorsed over the years which I believe go towards defining them: mullet haircuts, giant shoulder-pads, the spiral wave perm, imposing synth soundtracks in action movies, slam dancing, slam dancing to imposing synth soundtracks from action movies, and Wham. Their generation emerged during the tail-ends/aftershocks of the Vietnam War, the sexual revolution, the civil rights movement, and the invention of portable music and Pop Tarts, yet they made no contribution to any of these. Until the naughties, Generation X brought the world nothing but Nutrasweet. And they have the gall to whine about their Baby Boomer parents ruining the world’s peace/economy/environment and spending their inheritance! Poor diddums! Now they’re all grown up, they’ve invented a bunch of iCrap which they’ve marketed diabolically to Generation Y, while maintaining their signature jaw-dropping nerve to bitch and moan about said generation’s dependence on technology. Pack. Of. Whingers. Meanwhile, Generation Y, in case you were wondering, is a network of interconnected pipes or tubes which transfer data from one point to another.
3. Generation S. The Simpsons generation. Arguably, it was a Generation X-er who first brought us this way of life but, you know, if The Simpsons has taught us anything it’s that you can spend 20 years making a grand, sweeping mockery of pretty much any group you want, for fun and profit. Talkin’ ’bout my kinda generation!
…TGIF Dos and Don’ts
1. Don’t wear crappy clothes on Fridays. Even – nay, especially - when you don’t have plans for that evening. Because, sure as I need a haircut, you’ll get an offer to go out – and almost certainly to somewhere a little bit fancy. And when you’re running around that laser-tag maze*, you’ll be all off-target trying to keep your pants up.
2. Do plan more interesting things with your weekend. For example, visiting places such as this might excite the imagination and feed one’s natural craving for absurdity if one were to, er, conveniently have said natural craving. However, when all’s said and done, I am more likely to stay quite close to this instead. On the plus side, I will be clocking up some more hours of this as well, so it’s not my whole life I’m wasting on vicariousness**.
3. Do/Don’t learn what pathetic really means. My mum told me she is praying to St Jude that I meet the love of my life next year. In case you didn’t know, St Jude is the patron saint of HOPE FOR THE HOPELESS. Thanks Mum.
I wonder who the patron saint of WHOOPARSE is - then I can pray for one of these*…
