DURST: Generation Y's Rebellious Wave
It's that time of the season, when all these big time entertainers and heavy schtarkers are picking up the big bucks by giving graduation speeches at colleges they got kicked out of. So I thought I'd jump in with my two cents worth. When you mosh down the bleached green hedges of a college campus these days, elbowing your way past creased flannel and the pierced chin clefts and quick frozen cynicism of the halls, the first question that pops in my head is the echoing bass beat of my weird uncle Bud's refrain, "to what grotesque length will the progeny of these poseurs be forced to adopt, in order to induce a requisite parental outrage response?" And will you, Generation Y, be forced to a rebellious wave that springs from an even more sheltered enclave than Seattle? Maybe it'll rise from Bozeman, Montana, in the form of concentric body gouging. Or Singapore caning welts framed in frayed black denim. Who knows, in 20 years, music videos could be showcasing disaffected white adolescent bands wearing bibbed overalls with barbed wire suspenders eerily warbling their hormonally poisoned poetry through distended vocal cords stretched by skull head mosaic tribal neck rings. And of course, the whole movement will be crushed when JC Penney's coopts the images in their catalogue featuring the newest fashion line, "Grudge Rock." What I'm saying here is who cares? Go for it. Break down those fashion walls. You got to start somewhere. But stay out of my way. And someone give me a beer. Time you got some practice at your future profession.