Over the course of the last few months I have come to the undeniable conclusion that I am becoming a relic; an old fart; an antique; an obelisk representing times gone by. I may actually only be in my early fifties speaking chronologically yet I represent an age that is quickly descending into a forgotten memory for many and a complete work of fiction for most others. I find myself on the opposite side of a great philosophical divide in which the warped and aberrant public opinions of today’s new cultural norms have created a chasm too wide for me to cross. In spite of the socialist catch phrase “forward” used throughout history by the worlds great tyrants and our current dingleberry, I find myself more often looking back and wondering how I got these tire tracks on my shirt.
Now please don’t confuse this as a rough draft for my headstone. I am not an antiquarian who poo poos cell phones and other high tech gadgets and I don’t churn my own butter. I’m all in on that front. What I’m referring to is the ideals and preferences that are the driving force behind what we have become as a culture. Pick any night of the week and flip through all the television channels. It’s difficult to find a program that does not immediately assault your sensibilities with a cornucopia of indigestible reality conflict-based shows designed to appeal to the lowest within us. The storylines, when there actually is one, usually does little more then proselytize a malleable tolerance for the perverse and the feeble of mind. This so called “entertainment” does nothing more then sandblast our culture free of any philosophical or moral diversity and eradicates any pre-existing code of conduct boundaries that tethered us to civility. Is it any wonder we see so many people today try to justify their decrepit behavior with a straight faced explanation of their right to act without judgment from others?
Our culture has morphed during the last forty years into a “cult of the self” mentality. There has always been some form of this in existence but it has become increasingly common and more than a little unsettling for me. I have always been a proponent of a healthy body and mind lifestyle, but the fetish like attention some pay to their bodies cosmetically is no more then latent therapeutic narcissism designed to satisfy their terminal belief that a youthful appearance can be attained through technology and the attention of scalpel wielding doctors. Young woman today rate themselves by cup size and young men by the number of ridges on their washboard abs. For us older folk it’s worse. It’s nearly impossible anymore to walk into a popular restaurant or watering hole and not have your senses bombarded with the sight of “seasoned woman” injected with plastics, fitted with taught silicon bags and wearing clothing that should be worn by their daughters. They all share an unspoken realization that they are losing both battle and war, yet they all refuse to lose with grace and dignity. Aging men are no better. Our primal egocentric priority revolves around the illusion of virility no matter our age and the prescription drug market has eagerly stepped in to help us with our “rutting buck” fantasies.
I have a difficult time coming to grips with the continual erosion of the family unit. It has been deteriorating my entire adult life. The progressive movement, which now has an ally in the oval office, successfully opened Pandora ’s Box of human sexuality and our federal government threw fuel on that fire by creating giant waves of dependency and dysfunction to go along with their assault on the nuclear family. Our current administration has furthered the concept of “government as father figure” by excusing absent and defective fathering and rewarding families with no father in the home with additional entitlements. They have successfully regressed the ideal of the father figure into a vestigial appendage that can be easily replaced by the state or accommodated in other ways, such as government sanctioned same sex marriages. A study by The Journal of Homosexuality concluded that the best possible arrangement for a two parent household are two lesbian woman! It must be my old age that prevents me from getting anywhere near understanding that degenerate piece of moral fecal matter.
When elephants get old and are no longer useful to the herd they take an instinctive social clue and wander off into the jungle to die. I look at some younger people today and sometimes get the feeling that they would like me to go find the nearest jungle and get out of their way. Unfortunately for them my instinctive social clue mechanism is in the shop for repair.
My journey to antiquity has taught me that my values and principles that I hold so dear are not out of date and ready for the landfill just yet. Many of my friends and colleagues that also cherish the “old ways” refuse to walk off into the jungle. There are even some young people out there who did not drink the Obama punch and have a surprisingly sophisticated understanding of economic principles, leadership and responsibility. They are the minority of their generation and I do not envy the challenges ahead for them.
My ways may be old but they still ring true. My body may be old but still has strength. My mind may be old but still knows right from wrong. I believe I will stick around for awhile and become a thorn in the side of this new culture until the day arrives when the jungle finds me. You never know, with a few million others just like me, we could become a national annoyance!
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