Old Fucking White Dudes & My Race For Eternal Youth

They suck young blood.

I am in middle age, or maybe two thirds of the way through, or at least not in my youth. I’m 42, and I am wondering where the answer to everything is hiding. It does not appear to be hiding around the corner, or at the punctuation of that long downhill slide into senior citizenship.

I don’t want to become one of those miserable old fuckers that sits in the corner of a room and sucks the life out of it, but sometimes I worry that the legacy of living in a world run by old fucking white dudes, it to become a miserable old fucking white dude.

My hair went away early, so maybe I have the symptoms of an early onset condition at play in my life. I pluck hairs from my ears and my nose. I would say getting annoyed at Justin Bieber was a sign, but I can’t imagine any age when that won’t be the case. But do you just wake up one day and there you are, arrived in the cul-de-sac of mierable old person?

Of course it is always possible I will become as cheery and amiable as the Werther’s Original grandpa, or as charmingly eccentric as Dumbledore, but isn’t the idea that old failed liberals steep in their bitterness and become Republican?

I had a fervent opposition to combovers, so at least there’s that, but there has been the intrusion of what one might think of as conditions that plague old people into my life. I’ve seen a lot of idealism is squashed out of people, but I somehow cling onto mine.

In England Thatcherism downgraded into John Major greyness, was carried through by the dishonesty of Blairism, smugged it’s was through David Cameron’s anti-society austerity bullshit, and is now embodied in the neo-Dalek indoctrination of fascism that Theresa May wants to spin into Tory gold. So hope has always been something away from mainstream politics for me. People I know will cringe if they ever read this, but I had a lot of hope for Obama, but the Trump fiasco has made me despair of politics all over again.

So, am I failed liberal? Personally I don’t think so — but I have witnessed my fair share of failure, and after a while being heroic in defeat grates on you. Age ain’t nothing but a number, but you worry that your views become less elastic — that you solidify into a viewpoint, and even if I consider it to be fair-minded and well-thought out, who’s to say it would be considered modern and forward-thinking? Would it need to be for me to escape the gravity well of the singularity that is old age as a white guy? I have to hope so.

I think I am progressive in my viewpoints, and what I see as I witness the arrival of each new generation, is new reasons for hope. So, the eternal youth of which I speak isn’t physical thing, but a state of mind, one I may have to fight hard to maintain in the coming years, as I come to more closely resemble the old fuckers who make everyone’s lives so damned miserable.

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