Generation X-cuse Me
The definer (not the Decider) and I have had an on-going conversation, lo these many weeks, regarding the state of confrontation.
“This [blank] is really good …” “I don’t want to criticize …” “I hear what you’re saying …”
Too much debate, dialogue, and argumentation are regularly begun by some similar manifestation; ideas and opinions buried by the couched and deferential. Human communication left stalled at the courtesy window.
I regularly hear these statements from Generation Y during the execution of my “professional” duties, and regrettably, I am responsible. I first noticed in my teen years that the word “sorry” was spoken in my daily life as frequently as awesome, cool, dude, lame, motor, stoked, sweet, and tool combined. I looked and listened around me and most of my friends were similarly afflicted (albeit some cases worse than others, I was diagnosed chronic, but not lethal, on the Sicherung Scale).
How did we get here? It would be comforting, and politically expedient, if there were some easy answer (maybe Twisted Sister was responsible), but as is always the case the recipe is long, complex, and interwoven. Vietnam and the 1960s gave way to the free-for-all of the late 1970s and insularity of the 1980s. Generations of children watching family feuds annihilate their homes. The growing disconnects and protective shield produced in suburbia. The guillotine of the politically correct culture. The forces of production teaching us to love their shit sandwich. The propaganda campaign that invaded our daily lives and dare-d us to just say yes to patriotism.
Alas, we have left behind the duels of our Wild West (unless Zell Miller becomes President) and the vacant lot rumbles for timidity and sterility. Either way, we are stuck with the old adage: the loudest voice (or the strongest fist) prevails. I do not want to return to six-shooters and brass knuckles, but this other extreme leaves a belly full of angst and more importantly an archaeology of missed opportunities.
Confrontation frightens most people (myself included), the powerful fear of rejection and exclusion carried from childhood to adulthood. But our fear of the Furies deadens our lives, communities, societies, and world. Generation X did not birth this epidemic, but we are responsible for not stopping its continued spawn.
Part One in a Series With No End
“This [blank] is really good …” “I don’t want to criticize …” “I hear what you’re saying …”
Too much debate, dialogue, and argumentation are regularly begun by some similar manifestation; ideas and opinions buried by the couched and deferential. Human communication left stalled at the courtesy window.
I regularly hear these statements from Generation Y during the execution of my “professional” duties, and regrettably, I am responsible. I first noticed in my teen years that the word “sorry” was spoken in my daily life as frequently as awesome, cool, dude, lame, motor, stoked, sweet, and tool combined. I looked and listened around me and most of my friends were similarly afflicted (albeit some cases worse than others, I was diagnosed chronic, but not lethal, on the Sicherung Scale).
How did we get here? It would be comforting, and politically expedient, if there were some easy answer (maybe Twisted Sister was responsible), but as is always the case the recipe is long, complex, and interwoven. Vietnam and the 1960s gave way to the free-for-all of the late 1970s and insularity of the 1980s. Generations of children watching family feuds annihilate their homes. The growing disconnects and protective shield produced in suburbia. The guillotine of the politically correct culture. The forces of production teaching us to love their shit sandwich. The propaganda campaign that invaded our daily lives and dare-d us to just say yes to patriotism.
Alas, we have left behind the duels of our Wild West (unless Zell Miller becomes President) and the vacant lot rumbles for timidity and sterility. Either way, we are stuck with the old adage: the loudest voice (or the strongest fist) prevails. I do not want to return to six-shooters and brass knuckles, but this other extreme leaves a belly full of angst and more importantly an archaeology of missed opportunities.
Confrontation frightens most people (myself included), the powerful fear of rejection and exclusion carried from childhood to adulthood. But our fear of the Furies deadens our lives, communities, societies, and world. Generation X did not birth this epidemic, but we are responsible for not stopping its continued spawn.
Part One in a Series With No End
posted by Auditus at 9:29 PM
3 Comments:
Auditus or should I call you Audacious,
Well said. But can't you just get along with the culture of consent to the face, turn around, and backstab?
I don't want to "just get along" despite the appearance of such and the inconsistent efforts to do anything about it.
Auditus, I really enjoy your writing. Having a very critical bent, the issues with which you are interested are somewhat novel for me, as I grope around with a different set of thematics. All of which is to say that I look forward to other postings.
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