Generation N

Apparently, after Generation X — the neo-hippies — came the MTV Generation around the late 80’s. Then there’s Generation Y, from the 90’s and Generation Z, from the 00’s. Personally, though, I think we can lump everyone who isn’t a baby boomer into what I like to call ‘Gen to the N’ or ‘Generation Narcissist’.

That is, I believe, the defining quality of what we are as a people since the turn of the millenium. Self-obsessed, self-righteous, self-serving hypocritical narcissists with no self-control. Look at the big innovations these days (what people like to call Web 2.0). Blogs to voice your opinions (yes, I note the irony), Twitter to communicate your every magnificent thought and action, Myspace to map out your entire personality, Facebook to showcase your fabulous life, Youtube to put yourself on display to the world.

These things don’t exist for no reason. They’re filling a need. They exist because they’re used religiously by people (by which I mean almost everyone) who think they matter so much to the world that it is their duty to put up every single moment of their lives in the form of a photo or video or written idea.

If you’re wondering how this relates to the LC, this paragraph’s for you. See, we’re told from birth that we’re capable of anything if we put the work in and believe in ourselves, yada yada. But what I always wondered then is, why is there a bell-curve? Why do the majority of people get C’s? Or, at least, why are the exams tailored that way? The way the system is, if everyone gets A’s the scripts will be re-checked and more harshly examined. Is that fair? In a world where we’ve all got a little slice of the internet dedicated solely to us — where we’re pretty much equal — why are we forced to compete with each other?

It’s of course a necessity of the current system to have us battle for the popular jobs — we can’t all be doctors and lawyers. The thing that I find interesting, however, is that the average LC student has a narcissistic belief that they should be able to do whatever they want. The Leaving Cert is seen as a stumbling block on our path to a goal, more than a proving ground. As if by our very existence we deserve to number among the elite. (That’s taking the LC as a passing example — I’m talking generally about people feeling they deserve good things for no particular reason)

I believe it myself. Although I have a cunning rationale: I want to be a psychologist, and being a good psychologist isn’t really measured by the Leaving Cert. Especially when it comes down to nonsense like having to pass Irish despite everyone knowing full well that nobody ever needs it.

I forget what my initial point was. I think I just wanted to have a bitch about kids today with their newfangled technomagickery and whatnot. Cunts, as Jennie would say.

Oh yeah, graduated last Tuesday. Speeches were long, boring, pointless and cliche-ridden. No doubt it’s all written up somewhere in a template file with variable names, dates and activities. Come to think of it, it sounded like one of those videos of Osama Bin Laden, where he makes reference to random occurrences in the year just to make it seem recent. (We all know it’s just dubbed in by some other Arab dude and the CIA are too racist to tell them apart)

Grad night is a blur. I discovered Sambuca. Nice drink, tastes like licorice. Over six shots in fifteen minutes on an empty stomach was a little rash of me, however. The weird thing about that night was that out of the 300+ people in the club, only about 100 had actually graduated that night. The rest were randomers and people who’d been in sixth year last year. Not a big fan of clubs, anyway. Drinks are overpriced (although it was subsidised, a shot still cost €2. And they refused to make me an appletini! Metrophobes…) plus the loud music and darkness kills the subtle nuance of human interaction. And my new jacket got all sticky. And the head-boy made fun of my drink-impaired dancing. And then the head-girl turned down my drunken advances. (Although I blame my friend who, also drunk, decided it would be a good idea to drag me across the club and thrust me into her startled face, leaving me to desperately search for something to say as I regained my balance, basically staggering around a bit before telling her she’d make a good president and watching as she ran for her life.)

Anyway. Just checked the time. Great. 24th of May. Nine mother-fucking days. The pressure is depressing me a bit. Although I always associate ‘depression’ with being bored and dull and lethargic. This is more antsy and nervous and oppressed. I feel down, but not really lethargic. It’s more like the pressure is compressing me a bit. My trademark humour and flamboyancy has become dampened a bit, as I’m sure you can tell by the recent posts.

P.S. Oddly enough, a lot of the distractions have ceased recently. The shows I was watching have all ended (Dollhouse, Terminator, LOST, My Name is Earl and Heroes), I finally finished the book I was reading and nobody cool ever comes on MSN anymore. There’s nothing interesting really going on. It’s like the whole world’s gone dull and silent in anticipation for the leaving. Or maybe that’s just the cold greyness of depression gripping my heart. It’s funny how you can wish there was more time to study for the LC while simultaneously wishing for the time to pass as quickly as possible.