The Baffling Reason Why So Many Millennials Hate Baby Boomers
Did you know Americans once had heroes so big, they carved their faces into mountains? It’s true! How many Baby Boomers are we we going to carve into the side of mountains?
None? Yeah, how about none.
If the Boomers ever get so full of themselves that they start carving their faces into cliffs, we’ll have no choice but to dynamite. Their turgid faces would disfigure any landscape.
Baby Boomers think they’re leaving us a house full of treasures, but I assure you, once you’re dead, it’s all going in a trashbag straight to Goodwill. Boomers, before you get antsy and pen another self-righteous diatribe about how we’re not buying cars or eating cereal, know this: historically speaking, your generation did worse than nothing. The next twenty years of you aging into corpses in your boxstore suburban wasteland is going to cost the nation trillions. Your selfish deaths will cost our children schools and libraries. Your McMansions are the salt on what was once good earth. You destroyed orchards to build parking lots. Undoing your imperial ignorance will take our lifetime.
What — exactly — are you so proud of?
Where — historically speaking — do you get off?
When Baby Boomers were my age, most of them voted for Reagan, Bush and Clinton. In a nutshell, the policies Boomers voted for included: sweeping financial deregulation, the Vietnamization of the Middle East, the steady erosion of trade protections, and the deconstruction of the New Deal. I see nothing worth preserving in this backwards heritage.
Boomers, I know for you to feel like you didn’t completely fail as a generation, you need your children to validate your choices. After all, you insist, you did this for us. But listen up, champ: when you were our age, you fell for something as fucking stupid-sounding as trickle-down economics.
You voted for every Iraq war.
Boomers, you marvel me that after being so wrong for basically forever, you think anyone should still be listening to you. At best, we are humoring you, the way we humor our sad, drunk aunts at Thanksgiving. At worst, we are waiting for you to die so we can move the world forward without you.
Have fun cleaning your own fucking bedpan.