Piers, just cool it buddy.
Dear Mr. Morgan,
I see you’re the latest Boomer to take up the torch of Gen-Y bashing. We millennials are just so annoyingly upset by the election of Donald Trump. What losers, amirite? You took it upon yourself to lay into the 30ish and under crowd, and boy did you ever get your hate on.
You gave us a list of things to STOP, and I KEPT TRACK. No Starbucks huddles, no protests, no celebrity retweets. I’d agree with you about not taking a day or two off work (though for different reasons). But I have to admit total ignorance that Twitter annoyance could propel ‘Ol Man Morgan to the level of international screed.
“STOP retweeting your favourite celebrities’ own outbursts of pique, rage, and anguish.” Microaggression much, dude? You can always log off for a sec. Repeat after me: It’s just a tweet, it’s just a tweet, it’s just a…
But on a more serious note, Piers: I gotta say, I’m worried about you. It didn’t take but 19 one-sentence “paragraphs” before the psychological load you’ve been hauling came out full-blast on the proverbial page. “Winning is what life’s really about - whether in sport, politics, or simply producing the best decorated pumpkin in your town’s Thanksgiving parade.”
Whoa, my aging friend. Whoa dang. “Winning is what life’s really about.”
Just to really p*ss you off now, I have to write it:
I can’t even.
There are so many possibilities there, when it comes to life’s meaning, ya feel me? Lots of hippies would say "Love," as would many of their slightly-better bathed descendants, hipsters. Our philosophical friends would maybe answer “Truth,” and my favorite Brit poet (besides Will Shakes-to-the-Peare) might tell us the meaning of life is “Beauty.” True believers would opt for God, or G-d, which might be another way of saying “Higher Truth,” “Ultimate Truth,” or that aforementioned standby, “Love.”
My guess is that if you flew around as a charming little Brit fly next week, listening in on Thanksgiving dinners all across ‘Merica, you’d find that most Yankees this side of the pond disagree. They’re going to be thankful for cheesy, stupid little things like “family,” “health,” “security,” or you know, “togetherness.”
Their answers might make your manliness vomit, but take heart. You’re just a tiny little bug in this hypothetical, so upchucking will not only go unnoticed, but is actually just par for the course.
Your belief in winning as the ultimate end-all, be-all goes a long way in explaining your cheerful embrace of a Trump presidency.
But it doesn’t explain whatsoever your wholesale abandonment of that most beloved of British traits: understatement. Piers, you literally wrote these words:
“…so many of America’s 80 million millennials enjoy wallowing, and as a result they have become the most pampered, privileged and selfish members of the human race in history.”
It’s here that I want to introduce you to Old Economy Steve. He’s the meme (yes, Piers. Go ahead and facepalm. Facepalm HARD) that explains why millennials’ experience in the job market has so fallen short from their parents. It’s enlightening, Piers. Take a look.
Now look, I’ll be fair. The level of PC culture has gotten too extreme, and it does seem ludicrous that anyone would demand a raise/promotion every two years, regardless of performance. Those stats are sad (Sad!) for my fellow Gen-Y peeps, but I suspect they’ll grow out of them. Especially since you’re citing studies of middle school girls, who aren’t actually part of the millennial generation at all. (Snap.)
Let me tell you something else, old man. My generation knows the difference between winning and losing. It’s my generation that has lost thousands of men and women overseas, fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan. Those are my brothers and sisters, and guess what? They’re about one mil times as brave as you’ll ever be.
We know what it looks like to sacrifice the economic prospects of your grandkids so you can “win.” We know what it looks like to destroy the environment so you and your rich buddies can “win.” We know what it looks like to bully and bulldoze over anyone seen as “weak” so you can feel like a big, chest-thumping, he-man of primitive folklore.
And if we want to get a soy pumpkin latte and march peacefully through the street to tell you that we’re against this type of zero-sum win/lose world order, you know what?
We’re gonna do it.
No screed required.
I hope you can calm down enough to recognize that dissent is a healthy part of democracy. Maybe acknowledge that generational angst is a real affliction too. You might start to make sense of we pathetic little millennials if you actually got to know some of us.
We just might change your mind.
Warm and Fuzzy, Emoji-Filled Regards,
An American Millennial
Image Credit: Flickr / dennis crowley