Generation H !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our current state of hyperbole is out of control. I’m sure I’ve thrown my fair share of logs on the conflagration of overstatement in my past postings here at BarelyConscious.com. But, declaring things “out of control” is no exaggeration. Over the course of my 20 or so years of adulthood, I’ve witnessed western culture play out an ever-escalating game of one-upmanship. At this point, it seems that – IN 2015 THINGS MUST BE ALL CAPS, ALL THE TIME! Unless you are currently reading the best, most epic article of all time, ever, literally – it’s probably not worth your time.

Expendables 4 is going to do some cross promotion with Where's Waldo.

Expendables 4 is going to do some cross promotion with Where’s Waldo.

If you are seeing a movie, it needs to have at least 20 A-list stars and budget of over 500 million. If there is a boxing match, it’s got to be the “Fight of the Century”. If you are selecting a mate, they’d better have perfect facial symmetry, 8% body fat, and be a millionaire. If you are old, well… just “ew”. These expectations are untenable. 

Moderation is underrated.

It all began with the introduction of realistic CGI technology to our video games and movies. This suddenly allowed for our wildest imaginations to become a virtual reality. Video games went from Donkey Kong to Mortal Kombat to Grand Theft Auto. Movies went from Creature From the Black Lagoon to Friday The 13th to The Human Centipede. Shit, now you can even be Jason Voorhees in Mortal Kombat, and competitively stab people through the head with a machete instead of just passively watching it.

In the near future, this game will be seen as pussy shit your grandpa played.

In the near future, this game will be seen as some pussy shit your grandpa used to play.

The ramifications for this level of realism in our technology have made usually exciting and gratifying events seem mundane. From live music, to sex and dating, to movies, to sporting events, to our instant gratification expectations in general – Everything now seems to fall flat in comparison to the manufactured perfection we have become accustomed to. We’ve been there and done that. And we’re spoiled and jaded.

Movies have given Generation H a narrative in their heads of how a date is supposed to go, of how a basketball game will end, of what will happen if they start a fight with some dude. Faster, louder, harder, higher. More more more. Sex addictions, drug addictions, porn addictions, food addictions, gamer addictions, mobile device addictions, hoarders, preppers, ADHD, Adderall, 140 Characters or less, Ambien, Bath Salts, Ecstasy. Fucking fuck fuck dick fuck cunt cunt shit piss bitch ass fuckity fuck. From how far can we push the envelope (until we are gang-raping the envelope) celebrity roast jokes, to being bombarded each morning with “we’re all gonna die” news stories – it’s hard to live life plugged in these days. Speaking of which, I’m still pretty sure I had Ebola four or five times last fall.

It's not funny anymore.

It’s not funny anymore.

I went from checking my Facebook every day or so, to checking it every hour or two, to now… every week or so. At some point, I just hit the wall and decided it was time for some moderation. Our brains have never been exposed to this much constant stimulation. And it’s only going to get more intense, and easier to access. Antiquated evolutionary biological predispositions got us here, and they will eventually get us out. I have every confidence that we will eventually determine what levels are best for us, and dial it back as necessary. Unfortunately, it might become a total shitshow whilst we are calibrating said levels. Perhaps we will continue to dabble with Mike Judge’s vision of the future (Idiocracy), before we actually get ourselves appropriately evolved. I just hope the role of crash test dummy can fall on Generation H, and we can have shit sorted out in time for my kids.

– JA

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