By Josh Gardner, who firmly believes 2005 was ten years ago
I WAS gagged this morning by a look in the mirror. Instead of a youthful, Yassified face, I saw faint signs of wrinkles and a single grey hair.
Depression washed over me like the fourth phase of Marvel content. How could my time as a youthquake be over? What happened to us changing the world by clicking stuff on social media?
It was giving existential crisis. Only a few years ago I was the hot new adult demographic, annoying Gen X and Boomers alike with my mental and physical immaturity. Now they’re saying I’m over?
I was on the verge of a menty B, and nobody around me was any help. My parents unhelpfully pointed out that they were homeowners by my age, which I can’t be because of house prices, flight prices and Kendrick Lamar ticket prices.
But my Zoomer friends gave me an even bigger ick. While only a couple of years younger than me, they treat me like I’m an ancient relic from the dark time of WAP-enabled phones and films not shot in UHD.
Frantically grabbing the nearest one by her oversized hoodie, I asserted that I was as enragingly young not long ago, and that soon they’ll be overthrown by Gen Alpha as the focus of pop culture’s baleful gaze.
Society’s wheel will turn. The mullet-and-moustache combination will be unfashionable once again. Yelling ‘chicken jockey’ while throwing popcorn may be the dying gasp of their youth, and they don’t even know it.
‘It’s like that bit from The Simpsons,’ I protested. ‘Where Grandpa Simpson says he used to be with it but then they changed what it was.’ ‘The Simpsons,’ my friend replied, ‘is that from the memes? Let me ask ChatGPT.’
Her indifference did not pass the vibe check. Why couldn’t they heed the warning that every generation before them has also ignored? As with everything I hate and don’t understand about their generation, I blame TikTok.
