Happy Thanksgiving, America! Or Thanksgiving Week, whichever it happens to be. As we gather with assorted friends, relatives, and other annoying, stinking like three-day-old dead fish loved ones, let’s us analyze them by chronological category, politically, psychologically, and philosophically. For the Farcebookers and TeeVee watchers, now might be a good time to return to loftier observations. I hear Big Bird is rounding Columbus Circle to West 59th right about now…
Bobbing Towards Gomorrah. Picture from someone’s Pinterest.
Here follows a brief examination of the (mostly) living US generations, ranked and sorted by your hard-laboring, long-suffering National Affairs Meddler and Chief Prognosticator. I got ‘em all down, from best to worst. The determination dates are all mine, based upon popular assessments. As with nearly all of my work, this one is geared toward actual Americans, as would have been so-considered circa 1964. Civ-natties, equality freaks, Jordan Peterson cultists, and others of low intellect and poor breeding are hereby advised to retreat to the bloating comfort of all those leftovers.
Now, shall we?
Generation X (1965 - 1979)
It’s not just that this is my generation, though that does provide some clarity. We had The Dukes of Hazzard, Pac-Mac, and The Empire Strikes Back. I rest my case. We, and the older generations, had some wacky ways. Our styles - bell bottoms, popped collars, wide ties, big hair, high-tops, and Madras shorts - were a little out there, a little silly upon retrospective review. But, at least they were styles. The new vogue of the nation involves rolling out of bed, throwing on a garbage bag, and sloughing off to nowhere while munching from a big bag of Cheetos.
Seriously, we are the last generation of what might be properly deemed “real” Americans. We are the last to grow up in and experience the fading glory of the remnants of the Old Republic. Early on, we were derided as jaded and disinterested slackers. But, really, how the hell else should we have been? We were the first generation to feel the full brunt of the hideous social and economic experiments of our predecessors. The first in post-Christian Amerika. The first with intentionally, deliberately failed schools. The first with money completely debased. The first under total governance. The last generation of traditional Americans in the new Amerikan Babel.
We’ve, given what we were given, done an outstanding job. If any vestige of Western Civilization is to be saved, this Century, then it’s on us. Hopefully, we’ll be leading the next group on the list - the now maturing,
Generation Z (2000 - 2015)
Okay, in fairness, my favorite person on the planet is an earlier member of this troupe. From and through her, her cousins, her friends, I’ve come to appreciate the tenacity of the new young. They couple our (Xer) detachment with an air of don’t-really-give-a-damn-ism, which serves both as a defense mechanism and a coping strategy. With partial disclosure, I’ve had some extended experience with this semi-phone/tech-addicted group. It’s a very mixed bag, but among them is a large plurality of the defiant - autodidactic neo-traditionalists seeking truth and freedom in a nation seemingly devoid of both.
The jury is still out but the deliberation timing is encouraging. Despite growing up with all the aforementioned trappings of modernity and a constant barrage of PC idiocy, the Z’s, many of them, are bucking the establishment and its Satanic expectations. Better yet, they’re doing it with a hardy laugh. Lie to these kids or try to shame them, and they’ll as often as not meet corrupting fire with dismissive fire. The meme generation. I love them.
Only in this month’s pitiful electoral display did this cohort start expressing themselves politically. If the fake news is to be believed (Ha!), we have on our hands another horde of Boomers. If research and plain observation can be trusted, then we have some fighting chance.
Advice for the kids: read everything, get strong, learn to fight, prepare to fight, and (with my exception and a few others) disregard the advice of anyone over thirty.
The Millennials (1980 - 1999)
I have a soft spot, in my soft head, for these younger people. If Xers were the first to set foot on the new battlefield, these folks are the first to be born in open battle. They got (get) all the maladies of modernity without the benefit of seeing at least some concrete examples of what was, what could still be.
Far more so than my similarly-aged fellows, the “Y’s” have been lambasted as lazy, irresponsible, and self-absorbed. No jobs, no prospects, no romance, and still living in Mom’s basement. And, Boomers dear ... just What. The. Phuc! Did. You. Expect! of your children and grandchildren bereft in a state with a stagnant paper economy based on debt and lies, a society starting to resemble a bus stop in rural Brazil, an sexually anything is okay, but nothing goes, #MeToo, abortion-plagued, chemically-altered, frivorce-crazed hellscape, where the average housing payment meets or exceeds the average disposable income?
There was a trend almost as old as America itself. Successive generations were left in a better starting place than their precursors. It was kind of a national pride and expectation. And, during the mid-20th Century, it was blown to Hades. Baby Busters were left to totter in between. The Millennials were left squarely under the Boomer’s RV drive tires.
I salute this group as they soldier on as best they can. It is faded and fading further, but hope remains. You are not forgotten nor wholly unappreciated.
The Silents (1925 - 1945)
Here, begins a hint of disdain. Yes, Mom, I realize that by current standards, your early life was a little stark. But it was also starkly traditional. Starkly Christian. Starkly Western. Starkly American. You lived and exemplified (back then, at least) Norman Rockwell’s depictions. Gold standard? Check. Police state? No. Packed pews? Yes. Degenerates venerated? Nope. If you had hardship, you also had sanity.
Then you, they, came of age and helped usher in the regulatory state, Vietnam, laws literally designed to destroy liberty, and you (very quietly) stood by as the prevailing, noble, and proper Anglo culture was ended.
These people supported Jimmy $waggart. They voted for the Contract on America. Clap, clap, clap. Many have made for decent grandparents. They tend(ed) to spend and live with a little more thrift. For that, we’re grateful. That sentiment we generally express silently, without the pompous rah-rah reserved for,
The GI Generation, a.k.a. “The Not-So-Greatest” (1910 - 1924)
Come December 7th, a couple-a-three of these elders, of the several score still around, may gather about the crumbling remains of the U.S.S. Arizona Monument. They may speak of “striking a blow for freedom.” Yes, yes. They soundly defeated Tojo and Hitler and the tubby Italian gas station ornament. They lived through THE Depression. They’ll tell you, give them the chance, all about it.
They say nothing about the futile stupidity of the Second Phase of the futile and stupid Civil War of the West (1914 - 1945). They forget delivering half the world into Communist slavery. They’re a little forgetful (perhaps due to age) about: Bretton Woods, the Great Society, gun control, L.B.J., Nixon, other depressions, and their piece de resistance - the Immigration and Naturalization Act of 1965.
Thank you for your valiant service. You took the ruinous curse of 1913 and the other follies of your fathers (and your mothers - Go Ma! 19!) and, rather than repeal it, ran with it. We would not be where we are without you. We won’t forget that either. Nor we will forget that you and a few of your children left us with the demoralizing, pathetic pathos of,
The Boomers (1946 - 1964)
Woodstock. The Beatles. Bill and Dubya. Sex at 70. A self-centered swarm of rapacious locusts descended upon a ripe and fertile land. The Babies of the Boom tend to regard themselves as God’s great gift to the world. No, check that. For them, it’s: “WE are OUR great gift to US! Screw the rest of you, Him, even.”
Now, now. They as quickly outlined above, inherited an economic and political timebomb, ticking rapidly toward detonation. But they also inherited the incredible prosperity and potential of Peak America. The former they failed to defuse or even acknowledge, adding to the blast force when possible. The latter they squandered in a spectacular fashion never witnessed anywhere in the recorded history of Man.
Okay, alright. Julie Newmar and Linda Harrison were as hot as a plasma torch. Oh, wait … they were (are) both sultry Silents...
As they climbed the corporate ladder - while such remained to climb - they ignored their offspring, stepping on them if necessary to reach the next rung. They spent and spent, leaving little in their financial wake. Now, as they retire to Phoenix, St. Pete, and Bluffton, they simultaneously demand the rest of us support their golf, Golden Corral, and Viagra addictions while condemning us for not doing it efficiently enough. Yes Massa Yuppie, we are working on it … with what little you left us to work with … while we patiently await your passing. Tick, tick, tick.
BAM! Julie suffered no gender identity issues. Picture from Flashbac and/or Getty.
The Hard Timers (< 1910) (if any yet live)
Old school, Model T Americans. Those who gifted us with: Phase One of the CWOTW, the 16th Amendment, the 17th Amendment, the 18th Amendment (cruelest ever), the 19th Amendment, the Federal Reserve, and the nascent mainstreaming of carnival culture. People to almost make, upon in toto inspection, the Boomers look good - saved only by their generally straight-laced demeanor and Mr. Carrier’s cool invention.
The Final Generation (2016 - )
Should you exit the womb now or in the near future, we can make little judgment about you. We can certainly assign no blame. Nor praise. Why “Final?” This will be the last generation born, to be born, in titular America. They, it will soon be, who reap the rewards of past missteps. If you be of good conscience and of any means, then what you do now matters for these mostly unborn children. They will face hardships only seen once in a rare age. The children of 2033.
And, now, turkey lovers, I welcome your comments, please. Except for the Boomers. We’ve heard more than enough from your g-g-generation.