It’s always amusing reading the comments submitted on my comics, it’s been especially entertaining seeing how people change as they get older – 80% of the comments from people in the 18-25 category are half-formed, self-prioritising claptrap straight out of Justin Biebers how-to archipelago of consumer misery. Whining and ego leading the charge of the self.
You’re certainly not all like that, and this micro-rant isn’t in response to any comment in particular (there are hundreds), but 80% is a big whack you have to admit. Then as soon as you hit the next age bracket, WHAM! People are suddenly thoughtful, considerate, gentle. They type in full sentences. It’s only really the oldest few age brackets which really get into the Jedi feedback – you know where it’s neither cynicism nor naive enthusiasm, but the joyful, holistic nod of Yes. I get you. Keep being you. How lovely!
Sure, young people are savage as they learn about the world, I certainly was. But one can only assume the recent forays into real unaware consumption and the nirvana of entitlement are the symptoms of a culture being led into joyless philosophical dead-ends alongside the miserable veneers calling themselves ‘influencers’, banging their big-watch-shaped gongs and begging for subscribers to their Patreons and podcasts. Perhaps more money will solve it, quiet the howling void within. One more watch. One … more … pair … of trainers …
Look how many watches I have. Behold how I am unable to cry, unable to really laugh. Behold how I follow the example of a bloated self-proclaimed ‘alpha’, and wonder why I am no longer able to make jokes or feel joy. I am improving myself, I will succeed at being ‘the best’. I will I will I will …
Generations X and Y throttling each other in their spare houses, while Millenials are just desperately trying to find a place to live that isn’t in a car or with an abusive landlord.
Honestly, these poor kids getting their advice from perfume adverts and the desolate howl of a mirthless president. Anyway, some of the things people write, it’s quite amazing. Ah well, we’re all learning, let’s face it.
Perhaps the question isn’t how do we roll our eyes at the younger generation (too easy), but how do we challenge the ego within, and use our privilege to undo some tiny niche of the toxic masculinity rotting the planet, eh?
A good question, finally.
So let’s go, do it! Yes there is bad, but I also see the world changing. I see men talking about things like they never used to. I see suicide rates among young men dropping like never before. I see men using their privilege wisely and women thriving in positions of leadership; glass ceilings overcome and cultures listening up. Entitlement challenged and real loyalty relearnt.
Yes there are battles amongst the privileged (aka all of us) and spaces will always open up for toxicity to ooze awkwardly inside, but quietly, really, inexorably, we progress. We learn. We let go the clamour of the self and collaboration happens and freedom thumps and slaps and a new world screams and screams and gasps and joy is born.
We are gloves and we are boots.
And when we work together as equals, joy comes to the world. False gods are dethroned, the voice of the downtrodden is lifted up, the hypocrisy of the Pharisees is thrown straight back at them, like a laserblast in a Four Seasons carpark. Pedestals are knocked over, joy and jokes and creativity flood back into our veins.
Here we are as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more
Through the years we all will be together
If the fates allow
So hang a shining star upon the highest bough
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now
… OK, maybe not right now, but the idea of ‘The Christ’ is this thing that’s throughout time, so the exact date’s not really important. Point is we use our privilege to change the world through tiny little actions. To connect in this time of disconnect.
Or … we keep our privileges to ourselves, and we follow the lethargic billionaire dragons into their world of true, hollow despair, falling asleep on our trinkets and diamonds. Perhaps more zeroes in the bank account’ll wake me up …
