2009-10-26

I'm An Immature Iconoclast

Someone called into a radio show today and said, "kids grow up too fast these days." Then I had a flash back to children who had to go work on the farm as soon as they could put two words together. By five they were hoeing and sowing. They could ride that ox and cart like a Mongol on a horse. To say nothing of those little ones who worked in factories and mines during the "golden sooted" age of the Industrial Revolution. Many became Kings (King Tut) before their voices changed and others conquered the world by the time they were in their mid-20s like Alexander da Great.

So are our kids growing up too fast? Every generation thinks this no doubt.

Me? I'm the opposite. I'm growing down too fast. What can I say? I'm an iconoclast.

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Speaking of iconoclasts. I've always wondered about people who describe themselves as such who then turn around and speak and write with an ideological bent. It's like, dude, you're nowhere near being an iconoclast when you pick the same side all the fricken time.

How do you detect iconoclasts? Was Tarzan one? Groucho Marx?

Me? I'm an immature iconoclast. Yeah. I like the ring to that.

4 comments:

  1. As annoying as you can sometimes be, keep it that way.
    As for children growing too fast, well each period has it's own needs generating different responses.
    Childhood and adolscence are the inventions of aflluent societies where survival is rather well assured and machines can do most of the hard work. In such societies, keeping young ones out of the production cycle as long as possible is a necessity. That could change when the age pyramid will stand upside down, sometime around 2035 or 40, if things remain as they are.

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  2. Annoying? You keep saying that!

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  3. Well yes, when the Commentator starts shooting from the hip in every direction, your readers lose track of the original purpose, if there was one. This is quite annoying when you try to make sense of what you are reading.
    It reminds me of Stepen Leacock's writings in "Mariposa, sketches of a little town": "The young man jumped on his white stallion and rode off in every dorections".

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  4. Paul, his is the endlessly quirky force of youth. You and me, we better stay away from that white stallion or we'll break our neck.
    ;-)

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