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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
February 20, 2003
This poem, by chaosboy, is a rousing critique that is incredibly funny and frighteningly accurate. Sarcastic, witty and just plain mean at times, Problems With This Generation is an entertaining and informative piece. Picked and written by ~h-hour
(Selected by ^faithwalker)
(Selected by ^faithwalker)
Featured by faithwalker
Literature Text
The Problem With This Generation
Chris Serio
The problem with this generation,
Our generation that is, meaning anyone between 10 and 25
And lacking awareness enough to be thoughtful
To the level that society should expect but is unwilling to enforce,
Is that we’ve gone it doggy style with too many Ja’s,
Too many Britney’s and Christina’s (Strap on notwithstanding),
Too many corn fed popstar’s and media moguls
With Beamers and marital problems that we actually care about, unlike our own.
An abundance of too grouped with too many many’s,
Makes too many teenie boppers too preoccupied
With Winona Ryder’s fetish for grand theft clothing items
And not too many many’s going towards those occupied with self
Enough to notice the projection of it that they ignore.
Da problem wit dis generation
Iz dat we tlak in slang, and cn’t spell cuz were 2 damn lazy
To, like, lrn teh rulz of grammar, makeing mistakes so, like, horrendus…?
Tht Hemmingway shud damn well b doin barrel rolls in his grave
And like, um, if he ain’t, I iz gonna spin him round round like
A record baby, round round round round,
I jus like, prey, that like, OMG OMG OMG, that like
No gurl evr clad scantily in cheep ass, ass high skirts
And white see thru shurts with like, makeup and eyeliner and stuffz,
Never gets into her rendition (that’s how u spell it, right?) of Hamlet.
2 be or like, not 2 be or something…That’s like, the question! I mean, duh.
The problem with this generation, or one of many problems I should say,
Is that we’d rather see the brutality of a bloodbath
And the senseless slaughter of some poor kid picking his nose
In the middle of whatever street in Iraq,
Than at least, in some introverted and non public way,
Enjoy whatever magnificent splendor is left in the movement of the clouds
Or some fat guy dangling his legs on the bus
Cause he’s ingested too many Twinkie’s to get his stubs
Stuck to the damn floor.
But we’d notice a car accident out the window, that’s for sure.
The problem with this generation is that we prefer cocaine to ice cream,
Guns to pencils,
Breasts to brains and reproduction to innovation.
The problem with this generation is that we have fine print
And disclaimers, like we purposely develop ways to screw ourselves.
The problem is that we have warnings and cautions on gas cans
To tells us they’re flammable,
A little sign telling us not to touch the rabid wolverine or the hungry lion
And tiny admonitions to inform us that propane is indeed explosive.
I’m sorry, what? Explosive? Noo….
The problem with this generation is that we believe that Missy Elliot is not a prostitute and can still give us what we want,
And we believe that Iraq and the war in the middle east
Is actually in the pursuit of peace and happiness for all mankind
And not barrels full of crude that’ll find their way into the ozone sometime soon,
And, the saddest thing really, is that some of you,
Maybe a great deal of you, might actually believe me. Hmm.
The problem with this generation is that we know it’s easier to watch TV
And shed tears then it is to sweat and lose blood
Faster then water in the Savannah, and we know it’s easier
To be docile and typical. Hell, it’s socially acceptable.
And social acceptance is a good thing.
The problem with this generation, as I see it,
Is that ultimately, sooner or later,
It’s going to be us that run this world.
And as they say in Hollywood’s best,
God help us all.
I’m afraid of a world where all mom is concerned about is workin’ it
And daddy’s getting it worked and the only trace of brain cells
Is found in the decaying matter that was reused to make us
And our offspring, recycled material leaving memories of a time where things
Weren’t like the are.
God help us all.
Chris Serio
The problem with this generation,
Our generation that is, meaning anyone between 10 and 25
And lacking awareness enough to be thoughtful
To the level that society should expect but is unwilling to enforce,
Is that we’ve gone it doggy style with too many Ja’s,
Too many Britney’s and Christina’s (Strap on notwithstanding),
Too many corn fed popstar’s and media moguls
With Beamers and marital problems that we actually care about, unlike our own.
An abundance of too grouped with too many many’s,
Makes too many teenie boppers too preoccupied
With Winona Ryder’s fetish for grand theft clothing items
And not too many many’s going towards those occupied with self
Enough to notice the projection of it that they ignore.
Da problem wit dis generation
Iz dat we tlak in slang, and cn’t spell cuz were 2 damn lazy
To, like, lrn teh rulz of grammar, makeing mistakes so, like, horrendus…?
Tht Hemmingway shud damn well b doin barrel rolls in his grave
And like, um, if he ain’t, I iz gonna spin him round round like
A record baby, round round round round,
I jus like, prey, that like, OMG OMG OMG, that like
No gurl evr clad scantily in cheep ass, ass high skirts
And white see thru shurts with like, makeup and eyeliner and stuffz,
Never gets into her rendition (that’s how u spell it, right?) of Hamlet.
2 be or like, not 2 be or something…That’s like, the question! I mean, duh.
The problem with this generation, or one of many problems I should say,
Is that we’d rather see the brutality of a bloodbath
And the senseless slaughter of some poor kid picking his nose
In the middle of whatever street in Iraq,
Than at least, in some introverted and non public way,
Enjoy whatever magnificent splendor is left in the movement of the clouds
Or some fat guy dangling his legs on the bus
Cause he’s ingested too many Twinkie’s to get his stubs
Stuck to the damn floor.
But we’d notice a car accident out the window, that’s for sure.
The problem with this generation is that we prefer cocaine to ice cream,
Guns to pencils,
Breasts to brains and reproduction to innovation.
The problem with this generation is that we have fine print
And disclaimers, like we purposely develop ways to screw ourselves.
The problem is that we have warnings and cautions on gas cans
To tells us they’re flammable,
A little sign telling us not to touch the rabid wolverine or the hungry lion
And tiny admonitions to inform us that propane is indeed explosive.
I’m sorry, what? Explosive? Noo….
The problem with this generation is that we believe that Missy Elliot is not a prostitute and can still give us what we want,
And we believe that Iraq and the war in the middle east
Is actually in the pursuit of peace and happiness for all mankind
And not barrels full of crude that’ll find their way into the ozone sometime soon,
And, the saddest thing really, is that some of you,
Maybe a great deal of you, might actually believe me. Hmm.
The problem with this generation is that we know it’s easier to watch TV
And shed tears then it is to sweat and lose blood
Faster then water in the Savannah, and we know it’s easier
To be docile and typical. Hell, it’s socially acceptable.
And social acceptance is a good thing.
The problem with this generation, as I see it,
Is that ultimately, sooner or later,
It’s going to be us that run this world.
And as they say in Hollywood’s best,
God help us all.
I’m afraid of a world where all mom is concerned about is workin’ it
And daddy’s getting it worked and the only trace of brain cells
Is found in the decaying matter that was reused to make us
And our offspring, recycled material leaving memories of a time where things
Weren’t like the are.
God help us all.
Literature
Perfect Antidote
You're about as convincing as the safety
on a loaded gun.
And about as thrilling as
Russian Roulette.
You're begging for a trigger
to escape your troubled head.
Its like watching a car crash
From a window that I cant break.
You're falling down again
Tripping over tangled thoughts inside your head
That you cant pray away.
Well if you agree to be the patient,
I'll be the best damn doctor you've ever had.
I prescribe the perfect antidote..
Love.
Dont scream too hard lovely.
You're going to lose your voice.
For your throats sake,
Use a whisper and save
Some of your precious breath for words that
Deserve to be said.
You're
Literature
Uniforming.
Hope is in the guest bedroom unpacking. It takes years to unpack in the guest bedroom. Actually, it just never ends. The mismatched pairs of socks keep multiplying, and the bed never molds to your shape. It is a slab of ambiguity that ensures that no guest ever feels at home. There's a pink cardboard Kleenex box on the nightstand and ruffles around the bed frame. It looks like a carbon copy of a Pottery Barn sample guest room. Those are dying rooms, not living rooms.
Hope's brother died in the war, and they sent his armpits and toenails and nostrils back to the country in a box with a flag draped over it. He was just bits and pieces; he didn
Literature
the officious uterus
"get intimate with my uterus," she says
and i'm slowly backing away towards the door,
"because it's really about You and Us;
it's true, there are no ifs, ands, or buts about it."
i can't believe she's actually saying this,
summoning post-feminist bumper-sticker wit,
trying to draw me in with cheap vaginal advertising.
she'd already knit a pink yarn uterus and airmailed it,
enclosed a hand-written card in the package -
"My heart pines for you,
&
Suggested Collections
I love being prophetic. It makes me feel special.
An open mind is the key. Believe me.
Enjoy yourself. Don't get silly though, kiddies. There's plenty to go around.
An open mind is the key. Believe me.
Enjoy yourself. Don't get silly though, kiddies. There's plenty to go around.
© 2002 - 2024 chaosboy
Comments86
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Woe, this is AMAZING, I admire you for writing this even though people may think it's " controversial " I feel like this put my feelings into words better than I could have ever done myself . Thank you, for writing this , Thank you so much .