We’ve hated our generation since Disco.

You need to understand this about us, the resentment we’ve harbored for kids our age from the moment kids our age were swept away by Saturday Night Fever. You need to understand this about that moment, that pre-Internet moment, that pre-cable moment, when there was no escape from what everyone was watching and listening to.

The previous generation got the Beatles. We got stuck with the Bee Gees.

Don’t call us a Boomer.

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Stick to sports, they say.

That’s what they told Deadspin. Deadspin, a website founded on the premise of not sticking to sports at all. They, in this case, being the guys who own Deadspin, the guys who own it after the previous guys owned it, the guys who bought it from Nick Denton, who sold it because some billionaire set out to destroy Gawker.

Stick to sports. Stick to the game.

Deadspin’s rise and fall was the game.

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Time was when we thought it would be enough to keep a list.

Keep track of every policy he enacted, every policy he reversed, and come 12:01 pm January 20, 2021, switch them all back.

We actually thought that. We knew it wouldn’t undo all the damage he’s done, but at least it would help contain it.

It’s not gonna work that way.

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Which one was it? Oh, right, this one:

“Trump Busts Another Norm; GOP Responds with Silence, Support”

That was the AP headline the day Trump called on China to investigate Joe Biden. The Financial Times weighed in with a full accounting: Of the 53 Republican senators, “not one of the members responded via their staff to express any concern”.

And this was news.

It was December 2016 when news broke that, as the Washington Post put it, “Secret CIA assessment says Russia was trying to help Trump win White House”. It was December 2016 when Republicans responded with silence and support. It was December 2016 when we got a tad pissed and called them traitors for their silence.

December 2016. Almost three years ago. And not a damn thing has changed.

Only now it’s news.

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We’re arguing again.

We’re arguing about what to do. We’re arguing about how to do it. If we don’t do it this way, or that, we’re doing it wrong. We’re fucked. If we don’t do it this way (or that), it’s just gonna happen again. Like it always does.

We’re arguing again. We’re arguing with ourselves.

America is arguing.

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We’re not really sure what to do at this point.

Evidence of another impeachable offense has been uncovered. And by “uncovered”, we mean admitted to, live, on national television. That’s about as close as it gets to shooting someone in the middle of Fifth Avenue.

Although we have to wonder whether that would make any difference either.

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“A classmate, Max Stier, saw Mr. Kavanaugh with his pants down at a different drunken dorm party, where friends pushed his penis into the hand of a female student.”

— Robin Pogrebin and Kate Kelly, New York Times

Brett Kavanaugh’s penis would be the first to admit that it couldn’t get anywhere without a little help from its friends.

Whether it was straining its britches while a friend helped trap a woman in a bedroom, or dangling loose while friends pushed it into a woman’s hands, or even just laying low during a Supreme Court confirmation hearing while new friends diverted attention, Brett Kavanaugh’s penis wouldn’t be where it is today without others making sure it gets where it needs to go.

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