Per se,
my quick-tempered yet questioning generation has been subject to
extreme prejudice from school curricula to ways of spending their
leisure time to their choice of political narratives to their religious
preference, and very recently their sexual orientation. But that didn't
stop them from pursuing their rebel existential quests. They rebel,
therefore they are. They rebel in search of a better world to live in, a
world without sado-masochistic gerontocrats. They rebel because they've
been denied the recognition they deserve, the recognition that they are
young on account and they are literally treated as and made into the
beasts of burden, on the other. They are the ones to do, what
anthropologists such as David Graeber
label 3D (Dirty, Dull, & Dangerous) jobs, from organized theft
to assassinations, from terrorist plots to carnage-laden coups. They
sweep the floor so that the old boys could walk on the spotless red
carpet somewhere in the corner of the globe as a sign of false public
gesture.
So
I say, rise and rise again till lambs become lions, till wolves make
peace with lions, till lions become much more intelligent instead of
abysmal brutes with viscera only for the somatic. And by this, I mean
keep on resuscitating the spirit of youth (the sort of spirit we are
constantly despised for by the de-youthed, the age bracket with
relentless power, either to create or to destroy or to maintain the
addictive predicament that runs by the name, status quo. Plus, it is
obvious that we, as a hypercreative generation, are incline towards a
cosmopolitan thought than tribalist genocides that everyone is familiar
with from history.
