email Jesse

Ah, America.  HasnŠt it been a disappointment lately?  I mean, thereŠs nothing really cool going on - weŠre not bombing anything (at least, not enough), and our cultural mindset is that of a twelve-year old girl, the kind with pin-ups on the walls and metal on the teeth.  In fact, I think weŠre all slowly turning into twelve-year old girls, all whiny and awkward and sappy and lame, our bellies a little too fat and our complexions struggling for progress, our whole attitude defined by the phrase, †Ooooh, I donŠt WANNA!ÿ.  How else to account for the NŠ Degrees Boys, and Britney Whosertits, and Sexual Frustration Island, and DigiPokeMegaGotchiMonemonemon,  and all that crap thatŠs supposedly really cool right now, but will be blips in the cerebral cortex in a week and a half. 

Has there been anything worth remembering the past few years?  It seems the past few years has been like the ads on the pages of this web site (which I encourage you to frequently):  animated blurs that wonŠt be remembered after you blink the next time.  What will the legacy be of this current generation?  Creed?  A chill shoots through my spine and my bizkit limpens when I think about it.

Now, granted, my generation was promising, with Nirvana and Pearl Jam and FLANNELŠS GONNA CHANGE THE WORLD, MOTHERFUCKER!  But, the whole †good music canŠt make you smileÿ thing got on everybodyŠs nerves, and people finally got fed up and decided to quit using their brain for good.  As Generation X cannonballed into a pool of pretentiousness, the young Ôuns rolled their eyes, and as their mentors, we taught them that thinkingŠs cool if you use the right words (you donŠt wanna piss anybody off . . . golly!), you can get the best drugs in Seattle, and being deep means making sure your poems donŠt rhyme.

And so, we regressed . . . as the worst big brothers in history, Generation X effectively made LilŠ Sis and Bro want to do the exact opposite of what we were doing, and in a matter of months, the hypersensitive pretentious artiste was replaced by the hypersensitive genital-exposing dumbass.  Hey, can you blame them?  Imagine being the younger brother of one of those Lilith Fair-attending, drum-circle participating, politically correct †hey, youŠre thinking WRONG, MANÿ goofs that pierce their clit so they can feel like the wind (or something) . . . wouldnŠt you want to do anything that Big Sis would not approve of, just so she wouldnŠt tag along?

Now, as our country re-enters puberty, and zits begin to re-surface on my face as I write hearts on my hand with a magic marker (hearts are pretty), all I can ask is:  What hath Eddie Vedder wrought?