Generation X (Douglas Coupland) [1991]

En i många avseenden klarsynt uppgörelse med den moderna (post-moderna) världen. Där högteknologins första vågor har svept med sig en del av mänskligheten (‘yuppies’) medan det fortfarande finns reflekterande människor kvar, som med förfäran ser på den annalkande konsmerismen och produktivismen samt den alienation de oundvikligen medför (dvs inte som idag, när vi alla har svepts med), medikaliseringen av känslor (big pharma, alkohol), vår förlorade relation till naturen – ja rentav våra egna kroppar; vår undergång andligt? En värld som har uppmärksammats på – det högst reella – kärnvapenhotet; vår undergång rent fysiskt. Statistiken i slutet visar på ett tydligt sätt Couplands farhågor och tankar när han skrev – mästerligt författarknep. Jag är på det stora mycket, mycket imponerad av denna bok, som är en av Couplands bästa.

”Now Martin, like most embittered ex-hippies, is a yuppie, and I have no idea how you’re supposed to relate to those people. And before you start getting shrill and saying yuppies don’t exist, let’s just face facts: they do. Dickoids like Martin who snap like wolverines on speed when they can’t have a restaurant’s window seat in the nonsmoking section with cloth napkins. Androids who never get jokes and who have something scared and mean at the core of their existence, like an underfed Chihuahua baring its teeny fangs and waiting to have its face kicked in or like a glass of milk sloshed on top of the violet filaments of a bug barbecue: a weird abuse of nature. Yuppies never gamble, they calculate. They have no aura: ever been to a yuppie party? It’s like being in an empty room: empty hologram people walking around peeking at themselves in mirrors and surreptitiously misting their tonsils with Binaca spray, just in case they have to kiss another ghost like themselves. There’s just nothing there…”

”All of this was to try and shake the taint that marketing had given me, that had indulged my need for control too bloodlessly, that had, in some way, taught me to not really like myself. Marketing is essentially about feeding the poop back to diners fast enough to make them think they’re still getting real food. It’s not creation, really, but theft, and no one ever feels good about stealing.”

”He has one of those bankish jobs of the sort that when, at parties, he tells you what he does, you start to forget as soon as he tells you.”

”You see, when you’re middle class, you have to live with the fact that history will ignore you. You have to live with the fact that history can never champion your causes and that history will never feel sorry for you. It is the price that is paid for day-to-day comfort and silence. And because of this price, all happinesses are sterile; all sadnesses go unpitied.”

[Min anm: the meddlesome many, distanced and insulated from life’s hard struggles, but also from its meaningful strives and victories. Alienation…]

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