The Return

I'm back, you're back, we're all back--minus a few, most notably the wonderful Chelsea Bells and XV. She's so cool, she's a Roman number, speaking Spanish in a Latin country. Living outside the United States means adopting a different set of cultural values while trying to make sense of your own. In New Zealand, things were superficially the same and different, but below, very different. I know that makes no sense, so I have examples:

• They watch the same TV. American crap.

• They say 'trolley' instead of 'shopping cart.'

• They speak English.

• They use phrases like 'sweet as!' and words like 'cheers.'

• Young people like doing many of the same things as us Americans, like driving around smoking pot, which I consider a quintessential American activity.

Yet... These seemingly surface-level things we immediately notice when we travel abroad can be completely different than the things that really matter. I know that's not so clear, so here's an example: Tall Poppy Syndrome. In "En-Zed," a person might find themselves ostracized or looked down upon for excelling at something. A tall poppy in a field will shade the others. Cut it down. I've also heard this called "Crabs-in-the-bucket" syndrome. Use your imagination. I have a theory about islands...

And here in the United States we are wholly, fundamentally different! We encourage excellence, applaud assholes who have a net worth of $250 million, and envy everyone who doesn't have to work.

These are examples only. My post isn't about any specific cultural trait, and it's certainly not about the difference between the two countries I've been talking about. If I wanted to talk about differences, I'd be droning on about Laos, for El Nino's sake. It's the...it's the...I'm trying to get at the unsettling voice in your head that needles you constantly: "you're back. This is the culture you grew up in. You're an MTV baby! How could you forget how difficult it is for our generation to reconcile the excesses of the past fifty years, the present, and the uncertain future? Did you forget the feeling of wanting a tasteful multi-million dollar villa in the Italian countryside, and wanting that supercharged 2006 Range Rover with the GPS screen (what a Kiwi would call a "Yank-Tank," for sure), while at the same exact time feeling like shit because you can enjoy the bounties of the brief era of oil hegemony, gorging yourself on beer and delicious, endless food, while most of the world lives at a standard that would shame us if we weren't so nearsighted? The party's gonna be over soon, Dorothy. Are you living your life the way you want to? Are you even living your life, or are you just preparing for that day when eventually you will be living your life?"

So this voice keeps playing in my head and as I become more and more neurotic and have a more difficult time coping with this dichotomy, I try to put my square-peg life in a square-peg hole and do everything right but it's so hard, I keep tripping and shaking and I can't keep my hand steady and the peg heads straight for the triangle hole, and the wood chips with such force that the friction starts a fire, and the entire fucking board spontaneously combusts, with the fire spreading like napalm over my entire world, and the oil wars bring horrors the Nazis couldn't have nightmared about...

I think all the depression and ADHD and learning disabilties of our generation are a GENERATIONAL PROBLEM. Eh? What do you think? By the way,

Roger Waters = ecstasy.