I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need. We’re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War’s a spiritual war… our Great Depression is our lives. We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won’t. And we’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.
Fight Club, 1999
Two wars, a bailout, and waves of recession have left the past decade licking its wounds. You’ve felt it. Palahniuk was a prophet. It’s why “Fight Club” has such a tremendous cult following, even with Brad Pitt immortalizing Tyler Durden. Let’s cram more “Dancing With the Stars” down the wife’s gullet to keep her from realizing how much debt we own. Let’s make sure the N.F.L. never strikes again so I don’t have to face my shitty life, at least on Sundays and possibly Monday nights if I can still afford cable. Give me that new Droid so I can tune out my annoying kids.
It’s more than a bunch of hippies in drum circles down there on Wall Street. Regular people are getting pissed too. We’re tired of having the government steal our money and hand it over to corrupt CEO’s that pad their own severance package with millions. I want the bastards involved in the Cuyahoga County corruption scandal to pay. I’m making my monthly mortgage payment, barely, while financial advisors tell clients to let the house go into foreclosure if they can’t afford it. Follow the rules and you get screwed. Break them and you get rewarded.
You’re not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You’re not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You’re not your khakis.
Then what the hell are you? Are you a human trying to survive or are you Preta, mindlessly consuming without satisfaction?
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