Remember the days of yore, when the radios played real music and you had a water fountain all to yourself? These damn kids sure don't.
I'll allow the following video to speak for itself.
After witnessing this, you have a heart made of gold if you don't advocate a general purge of anyone under thirty.
The fascinating thing about Brokencyde isn't the level of horror their music represents. It's the way that one set of artists (loosely used) have managed to absorb every aborted innovation in the last decade of music. The crunkcore genre (which they share with comrades-in-failure Millionaires and Family Force Five) is practically an anthology of elements to remove from your music at all haste.
The current generation redefines shiftlessness. Hard work as a moral value is deader than the human spirit.
Sure, one could point out that more kids bother to pursue a college education than any other generation in American history. Or pointlessly dwell on the fact that the modern high school curriculum covers material that makes older classrooms look like an extended course on fingerpainting. But facts are only distractions from the truth that these kids don't know the meaning of work.
Fortunately, I have a solution. All we need to do to whip these kids into shape is promote a simple accessory. One little object could change everything. It could be the new wave in fashion.
Pain is a classic motivator. A few hundred volts for every hour spent on the couch should redefine America's approach to parenting, education, and dull Father's Day gifts.
We handed these kids the world in the beautiful state it's in today. Consider the beautiful, oil-tinted coral reefs. The soul-stirring echo that comes from the mines scattered through the rainforest. Before us, what generation could claim a giant island made of garbage as a future tourist attraction?
If only we had heirs more worthy of this peaceful gem of a world. Alas, our sacrifices are in vain. We only have these sex-crazed monkeys, who will most likely burn down the Library of Congress and replace it with a strip mall.
I'm relatively sure that Facebook is a form of witchcraft. Allow me to share my discoveries. Through submission to the fell pantheon of daemons led by Matt Zuckerberg, an acolyte may communicate over impossible distances, smite the reputations of their petty enemies, and summon crude photoshops of allies . In exchange, the witch surrenders their soul, autonomy, and endless amounts of time.
If you detect signs of Facebook use in your home, it's recommended that you confront the creature that was once your child with a demon-repelling crucifix and computer-killing magnet.
However, in the case of Twitter usage, there is no hope of exorcism. The victim must be purged with a stake to the heart. Immediately burn the corpse and contact next-of-kin via traditional means.
Finally, the absolute worst thing about the current generation is the way their pseudo-critics organize around petty and short-sighted differences in age. It laughs in the face of class and dignity. Disgusting.