You know, I could always tell I’d end up, spiritually, becoming an old guy yelling at clouds. There are a lot of people out there who believe that they will be forever young, and some of them may be right, and I suspect that a lot of them will be proved wrong, but ultimately I can’t relate to them.
Even back in my 20s, I could tell that I would, one day, enjoy saying “back in my day…” and complaining about whatever awful thing the youths were getting up to.
I’m now 33 and that is, by all accounts, not quite old enough to start being quite so fogeyish, but what can I say? I always was quite precocious.
If you grow up early then, apparently, you’ll grow old early too. I’ve spent a lot of the past few years shaking my metaphorical walking stick at youngsters, and using those four little words no one wants to hear when talking to someone older than them.
Back in my day, people had more fun, is the thing. They – we! – did. I always knew I’d complain but I assumed it would be about the classic stuff: kids doing too many drugs, being too indiscriminate about the people they bedded, drinking too much, behaving like prats, and so on and so forth. Instead, I worry about the degeneracy of today’s popular culture precisely because of how joyless and sanitised it is.
I first encountered glimpses of the new world around a decade ago, having been sent to cover a YouTubers event for the paper I was working for at the time. It was an evening do and there were drinks there, but none of the talent touched the alcohol, despite being in their early 20s.
They heard my mischievous questions but batted them away like complete pros, and appeared cleaner than clean. The whole thing felt like interviewing smooth, shiny robots. I hated it.
Clearly, I was in a minority. Happy-clappy beige influencers are everywhere now. They’re the mainstream. They’ve won. What do they want? Easy! They want a life that has been streamlined to the maximum. Maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise: many of them managed to become famous by relentlessly harnessing algorithms and finding out exactly, exactly what people wanted, and how to give it to them.
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The blandness of algorithmic TV
As a result, it’s only natural for them to assume that everyone wants to become the most optimised version of themselves possible. What this means in practice is that they will sell viewers a version of their lives which is either false or, if true, bordering on insanity.
Many of them will wake up at a time that can best be described as “still the middle of the night”, and they will do things to their skin which would have once been described as witchcraft, and they will exercise with the vigour of a medieval warrior assuming he is about to ride into battle. Naturally, they will stay away from booze, “unhealthy” foods, or anything that sounds like it may possibly make life worth living. Crucially they will, subtly or plainly, encourage their followers to do the same.
I was talking about it earlier this year with a friend whose daughter is 13. Already, she has started waking up extra early so she can do her full skincare routine then apply increasingly intricate make-up to her face before she goes to school.
For comparison: at that age, my mother had to plead with me to actually brush my hair every day. I resented it deeply. Perhaps most importantly, I also had a great time as a teenager. I was gross and messy, and I spent years drinking too much and snogging all these terrible boys. It was amazing. I did grow up eventually, but, well – everything’s relative.
I’m freelance partially because I’m allergic to the idea of waking up even a minute before 8am. My flat often looks like a bomb site. My hair is currently unwashed and stuck inside a ratty ponytail, even though I have chosen not to work from home today. In short: my life is a bit of a mess, still. I wouldn’t change it for the world.
In fact, I’d go further: the parts of my life which remain thoroughly unoptimised are my favourite ones of all. I can’t get my living room to be tidy all the time because I’m so often out having fun with friends. I look greasy because I just love lie-ins too much. I may have a McDonald’s for lunch and that makes me happy, because I’ve had a craving for chicken nuggets for days now.
I’m alive, goddammit! I have a life with highs and lows and with flaws and delights, and isn’t that the whole point? Today’s kids are getting it all wrong because they’re listening to the wrong people. Bring back the punk rockers and the chaotic celebrities and the bad influences! Back in my day…
