What is this world coming to?
When people talk about being a teenager in the '60s and '70s they don't mention the anger and pain that they felt, not only of being a teenager, but being a teenager during a time of war. You'll hear about Vietnam, but it's almost in a long-ago-glamorous way.
Vietnam has been glazed over as this tragic, but almost mythic, time period for this country. You'll hear about the protests and the sit ins. You'll also hear about the drugs and the free love. Come the late '70s however you'll hear about Disco and lots and lots of sex. The sex of the '70s was not the peace and love of the '60s. Sex in the '70s seemed to be a backlash to the fear and death brought on by the passing war that killed so many of America's promising male youth.
Whatever moment you are focusing in on within these two decades one thing remains the same, the world was a much better place. But, this is according to people that admit to being hedonistic, promiscuous, drug addicts. When you're fucking your brains out, high on acid, life is good. Oh, you can live this life now, but in the back of your head there's that knowledge,
"I'm going to die."
Let's set The Wayback Machine to times that were simpler in my world. When I was a kid I remember people clapped at the end of a movie. Sitting in a theater, audience still seated, and a round of applause echoing around me. The sad part of it is, as a small child I wondered why they did this. The people on the screen aren't really there to hear them clapping, so why bother? Now, I wish people would clap.
People don't even stay until the end of a movie now because they are so intent on missing the rush from the theater. They would rather figure that they're right about the outcome then stand next to you on their way out.
While I loved the noise and flashing lights of emergency vehicles as a kid adults were moving to the right to let them pass, on there way to save a life or take a life, or stop a building from being destroyed. Now, it’s a rush to get through the light before you have to wait for a moment for the *insert department of your choice* to pass.
I sit angry as I watch all of this, secretly wishing that it’s one of that persons family that they are rushing to save and because they refused to move out of the way that person didn’t survi…no…I won’t.
Pushing ahead a decade the world around me has become filled with dark places. I’m 18 now and Downward Spiral is the soundtrack of choice. I spend every night out at a club that we all hate and would love to see burn as we all discuss the new way we thought of killing ourselves and it look like an accident. (This was before Final Destination, but after suicide for teens.) Black clothing and thick eyeliner, dyed hair and Clove cigarettes make up the life’s blood of my existence.
Where was my shining war? The Persian Gulf? Fuck that! I get a war over oil (This was before we were at war in The Middle Ea…never mind…) Where were my drugs? Ecstasy? Acid for the Raver kult. Free love? It came with a very high price. So, that was out. What about the angry sex like in the ‘70s? I was mad. I felt cheated out of good drugs, lots of sex (peace and love or crazy ‘70s in the bathroom stall kind), the delusion that I had ‘stood for something’ by chaining myself to a tree. They had Easy Rider, I had Christian Slater in Pump Up the Volume. Maybe I could spin all of that into justifying angry sex with multiple partners.
But one thing hit me, even at that age, all of those people that had sex at Studio 54, all of those people that got all coked up and fucked in the bathroom stalls, all of those people that ushered in a ‘sexual revolution’…died of AIDS in the ‘80s.
The Downward Spiral released a tenth anniversary edition last year. It still fucking rocks. Be it dark and disturbing, be it unhealthy for me to have ever listened to, it's honest and I'm still here. I'm still alive to talk about the sad moping little cry babies that we all were. Half of my friends didn't die from a world changing disease while I was left claiming 'what a difference we made'. The Flower Children and Disco freaks are right to make this claim however. The world is a much different place now. We're afraid. Afraid of sex, afraid of each other, afraid of loss. The values and ideals of the '60s proved to be a scam and what was left for us was the American Nightmare.
Vietnam has been glazed over as this tragic, but almost mythic, time period for this country. You'll hear about the protests and the sit ins. You'll also hear about the drugs and the free love. Come the late '70s however you'll hear about Disco and lots and lots of sex. The sex of the '70s was not the peace and love of the '60s. Sex in the '70s seemed to be a backlash to the fear and death brought on by the passing war that killed so many of America's promising male youth.
Whatever moment you are focusing in on within these two decades one thing remains the same, the world was a much better place. But, this is according to people that admit to being hedonistic, promiscuous, drug addicts. When you're fucking your brains out, high on acid, life is good. Oh, you can live this life now, but in the back of your head there's that knowledge,
"I'm going to die."
Let's set The Wayback Machine to times that were simpler in my world. When I was a kid I remember people clapped at the end of a movie. Sitting in a theater, audience still seated, and a round of applause echoing around me. The sad part of it is, as a small child I wondered why they did this. The people on the screen aren't really there to hear them clapping, so why bother? Now, I wish people would clap.
People don't even stay until the end of a movie now because they are so intent on missing the rush from the theater. They would rather figure that they're right about the outcome then stand next to you on their way out.
While I loved the noise and flashing lights of emergency vehicles as a kid adults were moving to the right to let them pass, on there way to save a life or take a life, or stop a building from being destroyed. Now, it’s a rush to get through the light before you have to wait for a moment for the *insert department of your choice* to pass.
I sit angry as I watch all of this, secretly wishing that it’s one of that persons family that they are rushing to save and because they refused to move out of the way that person didn’t survi…no…I won’t.
Pushing ahead a decade the world around me has become filled with dark places. I’m 18 now and Downward Spiral is the soundtrack of choice. I spend every night out at a club that we all hate and would love to see burn as we all discuss the new way we thought of killing ourselves and it look like an accident. (This was before Final Destination, but after suicide for teens.) Black clothing and thick eyeliner, dyed hair and Clove cigarettes make up the life’s blood of my existence.
Where was my shining war? The Persian Gulf? Fuck that! I get a war over oil (This was before we were at war in The Middle Ea…never mind…) Where were my drugs? Ecstasy? Acid for the Raver kult. Free love? It came with a very high price. So, that was out. What about the angry sex like in the ‘70s? I was mad. I felt cheated out of good drugs, lots of sex (peace and love or crazy ‘70s in the bathroom stall kind), the delusion that I had ‘stood for something’ by chaining myself to a tree. They had Easy Rider, I had Christian Slater in Pump Up the Volume. Maybe I could spin all of that into justifying angry sex with multiple partners.
But one thing hit me, even at that age, all of those people that had sex at Studio 54, all of those people that got all coked up and fucked in the bathroom stalls, all of those people that ushered in a ‘sexual revolution’…died of AIDS in the ‘80s.
The Downward Spiral released a tenth anniversary edition last year. It still fucking rocks. Be it dark and disturbing, be it unhealthy for me to have ever listened to, it's honest and I'm still here. I'm still alive to talk about the sad moping little cry babies that we all were. Half of my friends didn't die from a world changing disease while I was left claiming 'what a difference we made'. The Flower Children and Disco freaks are right to make this claim however. The world is a much different place now. We're afraid. Afraid of sex, afraid of each other, afraid of loss. The values and ideals of the '60s proved to be a scam and what was left for us was the American Nightmare.