NASHVILLE, Tenn. (BP)–The first draft of this column wasn’t much of a read, less than hundred words to be exact. One word: Horror. Over and over and over again. Horror horror horror. Forgive me, I just couldn’t write anything else. Punctuation seemed self-indulgent and sentences superfluous. Terror. Sorrow. Horror. Fear. Anger. Has any word or emotion seemed clichéd since last week’s terrorist attack on America?
I’m 23-years-old. Author Hunter S. Thompson called my generation “the generation of the doomed.” Up until Tuesday, we, the “Xers” — generations removed from D-Day, Pearl Harbor, even Vietnam — exalted ourselves as citizens of the world, as cosmopolitan more than patriotic.
I know we the doomed scare you the boomers. After all, we pierce our noses, tongues and eyebrows. We color our hair. We rap. We run Internet companies from our bedrooms. We wear our pants too baggy. We wear our pants too tight. You, our parents, pay for our liberal arts education, then upon graduation we decide to start up a band, open a yoga studio or head off to Europe for a year with our backpacks and your bank cards.
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