Ok, so last time you had to read me whining about how the millennial generation threatens to destroy the translation industry, among many other casualties on their way to obliterating western civilization as we know it.
A tad overdramatic, I’ll give you that, but let’s face it: It was that crude tabloid-like, yellowish sensationalism, that brought you here in the first place.
And your thirst for bloody apocalyptic news is a need I can very well quench with my preposterous, ominous rambling.
You see, as I researched further, trying my best to be precise about the whole generation X vs Y dilemma in my attempt to portray the conflict in both a ludicrous and amusing manner (that met my own expectations), I ended up stumbling into all sorts of both interesting facts and bizarre truths about the whole subject.
Among all the funny virtual literature on the topic and the serious market research done on dangerously shifting consumer trends, I came across several lists and tips (meant for Generation Xers occupying management positions) on how to deal with Millennials on the workplace (to better tolerate and “guide” their potential), as if trying to “translate” their generational intentions and motivations to the boomers who brought them into existence in the first place. Even Forbes had it’s own list!
I went through several of these, and most of them seemed condescending to say the least, not to mention the whole point between the substantial differences between both generations and their respective focuses towards work related goals, which, to me, was lost entirely.
But there’s one more thing I found out while conducting my research about Millennials that I wasn’t able to tell you in my previous article. Something I discovered as I dove deep down into the numerous theories explaining their origins and their most inner desires. But I digress…
I need to come clean and confess once and for all what has proven to be my darkest secret yet:
It turns out… I am one of them.
Yes. I’m a Millennial too, and I am not sorry for things I’ve done. Destruction is all I know and I only crave for more. As Schumpeterian as it may sound, destruction is a part of creation (RE-creation). A necessary step towards reaching ground zero.
And that’s not all. According to some of the various theories out there about their origins, I might even be the first one. The first Millennial, the Adam of all echo-boomers, the monsanto seed that poisoned their fields. The beginning of the end, the Alpha and the Omega.
The first piece on this ridiculous domino rally of mass destruction. The prime mover. The spark that ignited the flame. Yes I am the voice of chaos in the void, carelessly smearing avocado on a crispy slice of toast while I scheme my next lethal hit against civilized humanity.
So you thought you were the coolest, baddest thug alive? You thought you were just too cool for school, “Hip” Joe? Well, let me tell you something: I invented the “selfie” before you had “an App for that.” I brought the lumberjack beard back into fashion just because I was too lazy to shave and had very delicate skin. I was the first one to revere Bill Murray as an idol so you could later say you loved him in every film he starred in just so you could follow the trend and look rad on the crest of the wave. You’re just one of my lemmings. Hipsters are my shameful offspring. Everything you like, I liked 5 years ago, numbnuts.
You thought you were the meanest Millennial out there? Well, it turns out I might just be your daddy, “Luke.”
That, or just simply another delusional bastard, bored of how things work on this God-forsaken wasteland, as most of us are. But a bastard willing to make a difference nonetheless.
There’s strength in numbers, and all you Generation Xers brought a hell of a lot us into this world.
We’re everywhere. To quote Chuck Palahniuk:
“Remember this. The people you’re trying to step on, we’re everyone you depend on. We’re the people who do your laundry and cook your food and serve your dinner. We make your bed. We guard you while you’re asleep. We drive the ambulances. We direct your call. We are cooks and taxi drivers and we know everything about you. We process your insurance claims and credit card charges. We control every part of your life.
We are the middle children of history, raised by television to believe that someday we’ll be millionaires and movie stars and rock stars, but we won’t. And we’re just learning this fact. So don’t f (beep!) with us.”
We don’t need to have nice things, or become successful homeowners. We can tear your precious little world to the ground without even coming out of our parent’s basements.
Our Trojan horse is already running loose inside your system, infecting every youngling with the virus of transgression, unorthodox measures and the urge to defy the world you built for us.
So language beware.
Cause we’re comin’ 4 U next…
