« Bored with their toys | Main | The Good Beginning »

Horizontal hold

One of the most bizarre things about the way Our Betters have decided to rule the world is the way they are apparently eager to return Western society to its most miserable modern decade -- the Seventies. Clothing styles and decor are once again leaning towards the hideous; we have a set of enemies even more dreary, boring, and psychotic than the Soviets; zombielike hippiefreaks are all over the place; and Western educational establishments are doing that "history and facts and stuff are boring, man" dance and focusing school curricula on the dreary, petty, tawdry problems of the present. When I was in high school, we'd sit around and "rap" about our feelings, got lectures about drugs (the same ones the British kids are going to get today, only they'll get PowerPoint presentations instead of mimeographed handouts that the kids would sniff to get high when the teacher turned her back), and had a girl who was sent to a reform school when she was caught taking speed tell us about her experiences there. Then we'd go to biology class where we'd be shown slides of diseased penises and had the Fetus, Would You Keep Her/Him Or Vacuum It Out? talk. People wonder why I stayed in my room until I was eighteen. This is why.

The only people who were happy in the Seventies were rich "former" hippies, and Arab oil sheiks. Well what groups of people are the ones no one dares say "boo" to nowadays? If you will make yourselves into doormats, people, don't be surprised when you get walked on.

PS: at first I had "gays" as part of that group but then it occurred to me that gays were pretty miserable in the Seventies. That was when they were "out" but not yet "proud," and you couldn't throw a rock without hitting a movie or a play filled with miserable homos sitting around lamenting their crappy lives (Boys in the Band, everything Tennessee Williams wrote, etc.). And disco was inextricably bound with both "crap" and "early death from cocaine overdose." I think I forgot this because nowadays you mention the Seventies to any gay person born after, say 1978, and his/her eyes will light up and he/she will sigh "Oh, I just love the Seventies!" Of course they did, they didn't actually have to live through gonorrhea and only three network tv channels (and a few UHF channels that came in snowy half the time). But they refuse to believe me when I tell them those years were the pit of hell.

Comments (5)

prairiecat [TypeKey Profile Page]:

If it was a choice between going back to the Seventies and Death, I'd have to think about it for awhile...

I spent a large part of that decade in Dallas, where Cowboys (Urban AND football) were God. Having grown up with real cowboys, it was possibly the most sickening period in my life. I was often drunk at the apt complex pool, when I wasn't bailing olwhatshisname out of jail & waiting for my black eyes to heal. I even managed to develop a mild case of bulemia.

Told Lovely Daughter just last week that that "cool" decade wasn't so damn cool the first time around & it's gotten no better with age. The World Situation today may resemble that time, with the Soviets being replaced by still other Evil Empires, Israel fighting for its life, & academia & media blaming the USA for everything that's wrong, but MY world is ever so much better now. Nope, ain't going back.

I can say one good thing about the '70s. It's the last time I weighed less than 195 pounds.

Of course, I was less than five feet tall at the time...

Jeffro [TypeKey Profile Page]:

If platform shoes come back, I for one won't be wearing them

aelfheld [TypeKey Profile Page]:

I can't take another burnt umber decade.

Everyone's hair parted in the middle. Lapels that could fly you across the country. Greek fishermen's caps as part of a "smart" women's ensemble. Decorating your home with wooden spoons and macramé. Sourfaced doomtalk about "our dying Earth, which we are killing." (That's already here. And I saw a goth on the bus yesterday wearing one of those Greek fisherman's caps as part of his carefully-arranged black ensemble.)

Post a comment

(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)


Don't worry, he's just chopping broccoli.


This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on July 13, 2007 9:47 PM.

The previous post in this blog was Bored with their toys.

The next post in this blog is The Good Beginning.

Many more can be found on the main index page or by looking through the archives.

Powered by
Movable Type 3.33