September 10, 2001
Some people describe it as the last day of the old world.
Life felt simpler. People felt a little friendlier. America felt different.
Here is footage from the old world, walking along Liberty and Church Streets, entering the South Tower lobby, and eventually heading all the way up to the observation deck.
Just one ordinary day before everything changed.
People walking around with $2,000 foldable iPhones, $800 shoes, and a $14 pumpkin spice latte…
Then saying they can’t or won’t vote for Trump because of gas prices.
Yeah, OK…
Every man should buy a big TV at Costco once in your life. Push that bad boy through the store as you do your other shopping. Every man gives a nod of approval or congratulates you like you just had a baby.
I need to make a very PUBLIC announcement on behalf of younger GenXers and older Millennials.
If you see someone in their 40s or 50s who seems a little boring now, I need you to understand something...
We already got it in.
Like...GOT. IT. IN.
We are not sitting home on a Friday night because we never knew how to have fun.
We are sitting home on a Friday night because we have seen enough.
We went to parties in houses that should have been condemned and were almost certainly owned by the local drug dealer.
We saw police lights and RAN and not across a nice, flat field.
INTO THE WOODS.
Do you understand the athleticism required to hurdle uprooted tree roots in platform shoes while simultaneously trying to keep your low-rise jeans from sliding completely off your ass?
And somehow...we never spilled the Zima. We never spilled the Boone’s Farm.
That was TALENT.
We slept on floors in strange houses because the designated driver either never showed up or, in a shocking turn of events, was drunker than everybody else.
There was no Uber, Life360 or Find My Friends.
There was just somebody named Mike saying, “I know a shortcut.”
And we FOLLOWED MIKE.
We closed down bars and then decided the night was still young, so we drove to Atlantic City, where we somehow managed to get drunk, sober up, get drunk again, sober up again and then get drunk a THIRD TIME before breakfast.
And according to our parents? We were at Michelle’s house.
Eating pizza and watching movies.
Michelle’s mother unknowingly covered for approximately 17 people every weekend. If there even was a Michelle.
We drank things called Purple Passion, Mad Dog 20/20 and whatever somebody mixed inside a giant plastic garbage can. Nobody asked what was in it. You grabbed a red Solo cup and trusted the process.
We went to clubs until the lights came on. Do you know the psychological damage of seeing a nightclub with the LIGHTS ON? Nothing good happens after those lights come on.
We danced for four straight hours in shoes that permanently altered the structure of our feet.
We made entire plans without cell phones...no texts, dropped pins or group chats...just an extremely questionable sense of direction.
We rode in cars with 11 people when the vehicle legally seated five. Someone was always sitting on someone. Someone was always in the hatchback.
And there was always one friend yelling, “DUCK!” when we passed a cop.
So yes...now we like being home.
We like sweatpants.
We like cancelling plans.
We like saying, “That sounds fun!” with absolutely no intention of attending.
We like restaurants at 5:30 because we can get a good table.
We like being home by 8:17.
And if someone texts at 9:30 PM and says, “What are you doing?”
Sleeping...we are sleeping.
Because this is not boring my friends...this is retirement.
We already played, partied and danced on the bar.
We already ran from the cops through a wooded area dressed like a Spice Girl.
We have stories that cannot be posted because there are still people with careers, marriages and reputations to protect. And thank GOD there were no camera phones.
So kids, when you look at your Gen X and older Millennial parents sitting peacefully on the couch watching Dateline at 8 PM and think:
“God, you guys are boring.”
Sweetheart...oh sweetheart.
You are looking at retired legends.
Put some respect on our names. We're probably the reason Life360 was invented.
xoxoxo (posted from someone else on FakeBook) 🤣 #genx #oldandtired
25 years ago, people loved this country. Even Democrats. There was a huge moment of unity. Now? AOC and imports like Mamdani laugh. Probably 50 million new people are here, they don’t care, we are at the last of the patriots.
If Charlie Kirk were still alive today, he'd be putting champagne socialists like Hasan Piker in their place.
In 2018, he asked Hasan why he doesn't give away 95% of his salary and live on a commune.
Hasan got uncomfortable fast. And wait until you see how it ends.
KIRK: "Why don't you give 95% of your money away and go live on a commune?"
PIKER: "Do you really think that's how it works?"
KIRK: "Why not? Go live what you preach… I live what I practice. I am a free market capitalist. I employ people. I took a risk. I have my own startup business. Every single day, I practice what I preach… You have the freedom to go live as a socialist. Go do it, Hasan. What's stopping you?"
PIKER: "Here's why that conversation is absolutely preposterous. If I gave away the measly earnings that I had and gave away 95% of—"
KIRK: "How much do you make?"
PIKER: "That wouldn't necessarily even push the needle… I will be very honest. It's really embarrassing, especially because my boss is sitting right there. I make $60,000 a year, okay?"
That boss was Cenk Uygur (Hasan's uncle), who then started shouting at Kirk from the audience, demanding to know HIS salary.
Kirk shot out of his seat and said this:
"I live like a capitalist, okay? I live what I believe! What do I do? I give charity every single year! What's my salary? Less than his."
If there's one Charlie Kirk moment to watch as we approach a year since his death, this is it.
This is the energy and conviction we so desperately need right now. Charlie, we miss you.
Fuck your aunt bro. She’s not a victim you are just a fucking pussy. You are a worthless piece of shit and can’t even pretend to care about the ones that lost their lives. You should be deported. Fuck you. Fuck your aunt. Get the fuck out of America
The type of girl you meet at a music festival, have sex with on ecstasy, and never talk to again but spend the rest of your life thinking about until the day you die
Mass immigration has made everything feel dirty. That's how I'd describe it.
It's drab, dull, our buildings, art seems cheaper, shabby.
I have no shame in admitting that's how I feel.