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I'm 25 and I play video games for a living. I actually review
them fora few magazines you may have heard of, but most likely
not. I live in L.A.,work nine-to-five during the week, and
go out for drinks on the weekend. I have many acquaintances,
but few friends. I don't have a political affiliation and
I don't vote. Like many of my peers, I shun the hypocrisy
and avarice of politics and those in office. I'm the guy listening
to my MP3 player on the subway or playing with my handspring
in the park. I am a self-proclaimed advocate of the Internet
Generation.
On occasion, I recall anticipating that "big thing"
that would happen in mylifetime. Many a quiet hour was spent
in the darkness before morning, lying awake and musing about
what it could be. Though my grandfather has since passed away,
I recall listening to his stories of The Great War, the fall
of the stock market and the inevitable depression that followed,
as well as World War II and Hitler's occupation of Europe.
My parents had the sixties and the wonderful liberation and
counter-culture movement of which the club kids of my era
are only yippy-lites. Of course, they also lived through Korea
and The Vietnam War - arguably one of the toughest tests of
the American collective we had ever faced, or so they tell
me. And the disembodied imprint of every other major event
that followed appears in my mind's eye as an Oliver Stone
film, a History Channel special or a lonely monument I once
visited on a grade school field trip.
And now this. This cataclysmic event that I can barely bring
myself to put into words let alone commit to paper. The moment
that I've been secretly yearning to give existence to my generation,
a meaning, a sense of purpose, a national goal. Our "big
thing" has finally come, and I want it taken back I want
it all taken back.
-- 09.12.01
shfreelance@pacbell.net
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