Aren’t you sick of the same world. It’s not the ideology so much as the lack of imagination. This is it. Consumption. This is the offer. This is how it is. This is the sheer inevitability of these goods. An elite who pretend to be populists manage the rest of the population & offer in return this locked-in set of opportunities. This is what what we take from you: work all your life. This is what you get in return: the digital funfair & fatty sugared-up meat our people can make look really good. But aren’t you sick of there being about five basic avenues of satisfaction, each internally graded for price? & aren’t you sick of being obsessed with your hobby? Your house? Your car? Everyone must have a car & now–wow–those cars have fucking radar and everything. Everyone can have a wrist radio & speak into it as if their errand is a mission & their mission is more important than anyone else’s in this jam-packed space. Hello? London calling. Hello? Everyone calling. Hello? Hello? Did you know? Fast things got faster & smoother! You can have a fast smooth thing! This is new, this kind of liquid fastness! This is the future. It’s the new kind of future. It’s what they wanted in the 1950s, finally–always–indisputably–coming true. If there’s a real age-versus-youth problem (one, that is, which isn’t stoked by middle-aged middle management like any other transient program of divisiveness) it’s this: all our goals, all our ideas about philosophical & economic goods, were decided between 1945 & 1955; and, apart from their means of satisfation, have not changed since. We live in that period’s utterly naive dream, the early-consumerist future, & we’re trapped there because we don’t have the imagination to see or hope for anything else.