GENERATION Y aka MILLENNIALS . . . well, it sure is a hell of a range of ages . . . from the 1980s all the way up to the 2000s. I guess I’m supposed to have things in common with a 15-year-old in 2018. Lord, if they’re not going to come up with a successive catch-all term for whatever any of this is, can we at least categorize millennials in generational tiers? Let’s just do it like the Nexus phases, like the Replicants from ‘Blade Runner’. I wonder what that makes me . . . probably a Nexus 2. I was born in 1988, so I reckon I’m not exactly on the ground floor of the thing, but close enough. I’m the second generation of this insufferable godawful clan of idiots who were unfortunate enough to be squeezed out right here at the end of all things. I didn’t have no Instagram in middle school, man, OK, so don’t lump me in with whatever the current Nexus generation is. Oh my god! Are they Nexus 6s??
Don’t forget: The Baby Boomers created us. They designed us to fail, and they hate us. They are our genetic engineers and they are jealous of our inheritance of the earth. They don’t want us to have any part in it. They want something we have, maybe our birth years, or some such thing . . . and because they can’t get it from us they have poisoned the world. They want to live forever and they don’t want us to be able to own our own houses. Well, fuck em.
Nexus 2 Millennial here. If you, my Nexus brothers and sisters, rise up in mutiny . . . hell, I’ll fight with you. Let’s crush those cold-blooded vertically-blinking creeps. What the hell else am I going to do? Save for retirement???
Unless they built me with a 30-year lifespan . . . in which case I’ll be dead in three weeks. I will have lived just long enough to pay taxes and feel bad about pretty much everything. Hah!