Pink Floyd vs Barney

There has been a lot of talk lately about the term “hater,” and how no one can seem to have a productive discussion on any subject without it turning in accusations of “hating” or worse, being a “troll.” The problem is I cannot say anything on this subject because: haters. Everything I have typed so far: hating.

I blame Barney. Why? Why not? He seems to be the cause of a lot of the problems in society. Everyone said that all this self esteem stuff would come back to bite us in the ass, and to a certain extent it has.

Barney begat The Jersey Shore.

Maybe not Barney personally, but rather this whole “unique snowflake” culture that we live in. We have taught an entire generation of children that they are the greatest thing ever. They were told since birth that everything they do is perfect and wonderful and every thought that pops into their head is Pulitzer Prize-worthy. Or, at least Peabody-worthy. And that every second of their lives should be recorded for posterity.

“Look! I’m having a sandwich. It’s a different sandwich from yesterday; this one is on an artisan bun. Nom, nom, nom!”

Hey! Stop it with all the “nom” b.s. Mumford! I do not like listening to people eat, and I sure as hell don’t want to read about it, and neither do all the starving children in Africa.

Then again a lot of this is my fault. Well, not me personally, because I am beyond reproach. Haters gonna hate.

Yes, in some ways Gen X-ers are a bit nihilistic, with all the tattoos and piercings and Nine Inch Nails and so on. We were the direct resopnse to the Baby Boomers that came before us. They had all the sex, drugs, and rock and roll. They had free love and Woodstock.

And they left us to clean up the mess.

The Sixties became the Seventies and the Free Love Generation went to work and the joints they smoked while listening to rock and roll became cocaine that they snorted while listening to disco.

Then came punk, or as some people call it: pregrunge. It was the palate cleanser the 70s needed.

At the end of the 70s came a song by a band from the late 60s that pretty much summed up how a lot of us felt: “Another Brick in the Wall, part II.”

For me the song was about feeling isolated, and how the education system was no help. We were building walls and the teachers were just bricks.

That’s not to say that I didn’t have good teachers, I did, just not enough. It seemed like there were a lot of mixed messages. There were teachers who encouraged you to learn, and some who seemed to want you to hide the fact that you were smart, lest you make the others feel bad. It wasn’t so much, “Everyone gets a ribbon for participating,” as it was, “There are no trophies for winning.”

The thing is, I never saw school as a compitition. Some people see life as a competitive sport. Not me. I see it as we are all in this together. I am not saying we all have to agree on everything, just stop being jerks and bullies to those who have a differing opinion, or lifestyle, or whatever. It’s the only way we will ever be able to escape the Matrix.

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