The elderly thoroughly fucking depress me. I'm not among the ranks of the youth that simply sneer at the wrinkly and wise. I mean they genuinely make me feel utterly bloody useless. This is a shame because I do a lot of favours for the woman that dared spawn me. Outside of her matriarchal duties of telling me she worries about [apply or eliminate the following as applicable: my lack of consistent occupation/diet/sleeping habits], she manages a residential home. A damned fine one, for she shares genes with me and I am of course amazing.
Talking to some of the occupants there is a mixed experience. Some of them due to the cruel march of time are genuinely doo-lally. Others are simply stoic, facing down the onset of age with a steely resolve and almost a positive slant on the few opportunities that come before them. I had a conversation today with a lady of Ninety-Three years. It was a pleasant conversation. What thoroughly depressed me is that some people my age aren't as switched on as she was. It wasn't like she was a quantum theorist or anything. It's simply in the things that she asked about and I explained she genuinely understood and took on board.
The fact that some people at my modest age probably could video something and have it uploaded on youtube before they actually knew or understood what it was thoroughly fucking depresses me. The thing that reminds me the most is that three or four generations ago we were tough as old boots. Now we're soggy complacent wastes of what is essentially energy slowed down significantly below the speed of light. Possibly gawping at a wall. Wearing a trilby.
It's enough to make you go hang yourself. My generation disappoints me.
Thursday, 4 December 2008
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