By Wil Forbis
I was sitting at a coffeehouse the other day, and
I was watching this absolutely adorable little girl playing with this
cocker spaniel puppy. So I was sitting there with a smile on my face,
laughing every time the puppy would lick her nose and she would emit
a screech of delight, and I thought "Wouldn't it be neat if a giant
metal piledriver appeared from the sky and descended on these two, smashing
them into a pile of unidentifiable goo?"
Of course, I was disappointed. It actually turned
out to be a stray piano falling from the sky (brand: Acme) that eventually
crushed the two little moppets, but at least I didn't have to put with
their nonsense any longer. In fact it made me feel quite free from the
annoyances of the young altogether, until today, when I boarded the
bus and discovered it was filled with a classroom of children going
down to the Seattle International Children's Festival. "Why in God's
name would they have a festival to celebrate something as vulgar as
children?" I queried the man standing next to me, "especially, international
ones?" He gave me that shocked and repulsed stare I'm so used to and
looked like he was about to tear up and start singing Whitney Houston's
"I Believe The Children Are the Future" song (He couldn't do it any
worse than her well publicized drug addled Grammy rehearsals.) But that's
the problem really, children ARE our future. And every time you see
one, you're reminded we are handing over our lives, our culture to a
bunch of screeching, baggy pants wearing, Spice Girls listening automatons
who would like nothing more than to see the whole of adulthood replaced
with a giant "Tickle Me Elmo" doll. Eventually we'll be supplanted by
a generation that only remembers STAR WARS as The Phantom Menace, and
thinks of cocaine the way we think of Whiskey Sours. Children are a
constant reminder of our own mortality, everything of value my generation
created - gangsta rap, retro surf music, a pompous obsession with obscure
science fiction movie trivia - all that will be destroyed when Generation
Y comes to town.
I think it's in the sexual arena where we will see
the most damage. A few years ago I asked my Mom if she'd ever had a
lesbian affair and she replied in that in her day that sort of thing
just wasn't that common. Of course, nowadays it seems like every girl
I meet is a state-licensed bisexual and are always rubbing your nose
at how much better their roommate in college was at servicing their
netherworld. (Well, they're not actually rubbing your nose in it… perhaps
that's part of the problem. (Somewhat off the subject, but erstwhile
Acid Logic reader Peter Moss shared an amusing tale with me recently
about an old friend of his who used to dress up in drag and score with
chicks at gay bars telling them he was a "lesbian trapped in a man's
body." Apparently it was quite successful so if anyone can send me a
maroon strapless I'd be very thankful.) If this is how far we've come,
what's next? Will our children march through the living room saying,
"Dad, have you seen my buttplug?" Will they put forth queries like,
"Say Pops, ever have sex with a Kangaroo? It's the newest thing." Will
they berate us with "Excuse me ancient one, you're taking my abortion
pills in place of your Rogaine again!" Clearly no good can come of this.
I've had the answer to this dilemma for a long time
now. Immediately upon birth, children should be placed in some sort
of nutrient bath and hooked up to an electronic brain stimulator. (You
know, like the ones that are always on sale at Wal-Mart.) There they
can remain for the next 18 years, where they can be fed all the nomenclature
and references from the past 20 years of culture. Once they achieve adulthood,
they'd be more than prepared to carry on our work. Imagine the benefits:
A world where Seinfeld is funny forever, where everyone quotes "Pulp
Fiction", where everybody lives in a gangsta's paradise and goes where
the downboys go. I have a name for this magical place.
Shangri-La.
Wil Forbis is a
well known international playboy who lives a fast paced life attending
chic parties, performing feats of derring-do and making love to the
world's most beautiful women. Together with his partner, Scrotum-Boy,
he is making the world safe for democracy. Email - acidlogic@hotmail.comVisit Wil's web log, My So-Called Penis, and receive complete enlightenment.
