100 Year Life

Have you ever noticed how the twentieth century was similar to a human life?

It began with the hope and promise of prosperity. New life, new creation, new innovation...light bulbs and automobiles and luxurious ocean liners. A fresh start for humanity, a renewed childhood for Earth.

Then came the teens, and the conflict began. From age 14 to 18, the people of said Earth tore at one another with never-before-seen ferocity. The First World War was a mindless, meaningless slaughter of everyone and everything in sight...much like your average teenager's directionless crusade against life. We've all been through it; the world as a whole simply experienced it on a much vaster scale.

But war eventually came to an end and the twenties brought renewed vigour. We were well out of our angst-ridden youth and ready to enjoy all the good things that life had to offer. We danced and played and broke the rules; it was an age of music and art, riches and decadence...once again the promise of better things to come.

Until the responsibilities of adult life hit us like a slap in the face...or, more accurately, a stock market crash. Suddenly we had families to feed and children to raise while suddenly running short of money and food. It only got worse from there; before we knew it war had returned, and now our teenaged children (still hungry and poor from our lacklustre parenting phase) ended up getting into the exact same war that we had fought in our own youth. The century's forties were spent mourning the return of a violence it had thought to be at an end.

But again, the children grew up and war ended. The century entered its fifties in a more relaxed frame of mind, more optimistic than before. Babies were born and wholesome, family-friendly television flourished. But we were growing older and needed something to ease the growing pains. As we entered our sixties, we began to experiment with certain mind-altering substances that could take our minds off the fact that the so-called 'war to end all wars' had actually been three wars ago. It was the twentieth century's midlife crisis; after sixty years it really hadn't made much progress at all and was beginning to wonder whether its entire existence had, in fact, been a total waste of time.

So in the seventies, we became downright cranky. Recreational drug use had turned into virulent addiction. No one knew what was right anymore; all the 'moral perfection' of the fifties turned out to be rather more racist and prejudiced than we'd been willing to admit at the time. Our self-imposed censorship systems collapsed as young musicians and filmmakers broke the foul-language barrier into tiny pieces. Corrupt politicians made us cynical, a return of financial uncertainty made us resentful.

In our eighties we were so deaf that music had to be cranked to absurd levels. Fortunately, advances in technology helped us overcome our shortcomings. It was hard to walk, so there was more seated travel; hard to think for ourselves, so computers and TV pundits began to do so in our place. Of course, obesity and apathy and sheer laziness now began to become serious problems...but by this point we didn't really care anymore.

A final glimmer of hope came as the 1900s approached the end of its 'life'. Sure, it had left a legacy of violence, depression and poor decisions, but it was about to pass the torch to a new generation. Perhaps the new millenium would start the cycle again and actually do it better. New life, new promise, new beginnings...another fresh start.

But unfortunately, the twentieth century wouldn't go down without a fight. On its way out, the 1900s left us a healthy dose of its greatest diseases: war, poverty, injustice, intolerance and conservative governments (who, incidentally, are primarily responsible for all of the above). These things still exist, not as emergences of our new age, but as hangovers from the previous one...much like the inordinate financial duties imposed upon the family of a dead person.

The choice now lies with us. Do we just live this century the way our ancestors lived the previous one...or do we, perhaps, learn from their mistakes, shake off their legacy, and forge a new path for ourselves?

We're not living in our parents' basement anymore. We own the property now. I think it's time to clean house.