In Defense of Generation Douchebag

It seems as though we’ve got some intergenerational conflict simmering in the blogosphere.

A couple of weeks ago – which is, admittedly, like a million billion years ago in blog time – Pajiba’s backhandedly apologetic review of the Prom Night remake sparked some heated debate in its comments section between the site’s Gen X contingent and readers from the next generation, who didn’t take too kindly to being referred to as “Generation Douchebag” in the main article.

And on Thursday, Chez of Deus Ex Malcontent infamy had some not so kind words for the ‘tween demographic and its “crappy, overproduced, Disneyfied” brand of entertainment.

Before I kinda, sorta defend the kids in a roundabout way, let’s get something straight. I do not like any of the things that these ‘tweens find entertaining. Hell, I can barely tolerate most of the things that my contemporaries like. I think that, by and large, pop culture is a vast ocean of liquid poop that we must traverse using rickety rafts crudely fashioned from “Firefly” and “Venture Bros.” DVDs, or from the entirety of Jay Reatard’s discography, or what have you.

But the contrarian prick in me loves to play devil’s advocate. So, here we go.

Ever since the teen demographic was invented sometime after World War II, every generation of teens, tweens and tots has had its fair share of nigh inescapable trendy trash to confound its elders.

The ‘50s saw the rise and subsequent omnipresence of rock ‘n’ roll, which was to sell damn near everything. Even Tony Bennet and Perry motherfucking Como got briefly tagged as rockers during this period. And remember those Elvis movies? Ugh. (I side with that Japanese hepcat from Mystery Train – Carl Perkins is the real king.)

The ‘60s had the British Invasion, Brill Building pop, psychadelia and the summer of love and what have you. Sure, there was a bunch of great stuff that came out of that, but there was also the Monkees and Bobby Goldsboro and the inexplicable cult of Jim Morrison to piss all over the parade.

The ‘70s had disco. ‘Nuff said.

Now that I’ve grossly generalized pretty much everyone who came before me, we arrive at the time of my birth, the 1980s. I’m 22 years old. I’ve lived through a lot of bullshit trends even at my young age, even if I only have vague memories of them.

Here are some of them, in no particular order:

• hair metal

• a catch-all category of crappy synth pop, which includes all teen hearthrob solo acts, boy bands and girl groups from the ‘80s to the present day

• motherfucking Nintendo everything

• “alternative” rock, whatever the hell that is

• Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

• Saved by the Bell

• Nicktoons

• the Incredible Crash Dummies

• the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers, who I’ve just learned are in their fourteenth incarnation

• digital. fucking. pets.

• the Tickle Me Elmo/N64 Christmas death march

• the second boom period of professional wrestling (which, while incredibly dumb, was still fucking awesome no matter what anyone says)

• nu-metal

• Total Request Live

• reality TV

• ironic co-opting or referencing of stuff from the past for humorous purposes, especially stuff from the ‘80s, which is supposedly inherently funny for some reason I can’t fathom (a.k.a., “Family Guy Syndrome”)

• emo/screamo/emocore/screamocore/metalcore/whatevercore

And that’s just the stuff that I could rattle off the top of my head. Even if you like or liked some of the stuff that I listed above in my extremely rough history of America’s pop culture landscape, you must admit that a lot of it is pretty stupid.

My point is, every generation of kids has had its share of ubiquitously popular crap. This generation is no different.

Which isn’t to say that we can’t bitch about it. Bitching is an inalienable right shared by all Americans, young and old. Take away our right to bitch, and you might as well take away our right to breathe.

But while we bitch about the young’uns, let’s just keep in mind that the generations before us said the exact same things about us that we say about them now.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled mudslinging.