The Age of Entitlement

Is it just me, or does everyone out there nowadays seem like they have a holier-than-thou attitude? Not even in terms of morality or ethics, but in every aspect of life. Doesn’t it seem like no one is afraid of upsetting anyone anymore? Everyone feels like it’s their right, and even duty, to do and say whatever they want wherever and whenever no matter what anyone thinks. Bloggers such as myself that spout scathing opinions on everything are a prime example, but what about the types who are loud and obnoxious in restaurants or who drive around blasting bassy music in a neighborhood that doesn’t care to hear it? I think there’s a connection.

What’s the best thing about being a blogger? Well, you have a world-wide potential audience, for one. But think about it, you can pretty much say whatever you want and even if it offends people there really isn’t much they can do about it. Save for being a racist hate-monger who preaches violence and criminal activity, you can pretty much get away with literary murder on the internets. I can come on here and say that everyone with the letter B in their name is an idiot or that anyone who wears a pink shirt is a militant homosexual. Unless I also give my home address and I happen to live on a street where there happens to be a pink shirt convention or B name rally within a couple days I’m completely safe. And living in a day and age where everyone has the interwebs in their pocket or purse at any given time with a smartphone this is becoming a well-known idea; that people can say and do whatever they want because the app on their phone told them to.

Alrighty then. Everyone has the ability to be a self-proclaimed journalist and reach the whole human race with their message. So naturally, they assume everyone out there needs and cares to know what they have to say. They think their opinion matters just because they log on to FaceSpace and MyFace Tom asks them “What’s on your mind?” That sure makes you feel special, doesn’t it? That everyone wants to know your review of products you buy online and places you visit. But wait, it doesn’t stop there. Now that you’re feeling special and thinking your opinion is too, you’re blogging about saving the whales, or hugging the trees, or drilling for oil in the middle of a nature preserve. Now you’re a loudmouth like me. That’s not always a bad thing. But here’s that connection I mentioned earlier. Now that you’re an internet-tough-guy why not take that attitude of being special and untouchable into the public? Yeah! Go into a nice restaurant and make a loud scene and annoy everyone around you, because hey, your YouTube video got 5 “likes” last month.

So what does all this have to do with entitlement? Well, people are told that their opinion matters, which isn’t so bad. But they’re also told that they can do anything they want when they’re kids, and that they’re special and no one is better than they are. I think that whole special trend is finally catching up to us, don’t you? Because last time I checked we as a people are weaker, fatter, uglier, and dumber than we’ve ever been. But we sure feel great, don’t we? The magical world of social networking has our every thought and action broadcasting across the globe and as consumers and customers our opinions are held to a god-like standard. If that kind of hot air being blown up your ass doesn’t go straight to your head I don’t know what will.

So one day what if someone special decides that they’re too special to use a turn signal when driving and cuts off the wrong special person who is not only special as well but also highly medicated, highly armed, and mentally unstable? Sounds like a recipe for disaster to me. No one stops to think that everyone else around them feels as strong as they do these days, and it’s left us level-headed people swimming through a morass of moronic over-compensation and ignorant ranting. Next time you think you’re Superman when you’re driving or in public or on the internet, put down your quadruple cheese burger, pulley yourself off your hospital bed, slither into your extra-wide bathroom and look in the mirror. You’re no more special than the special sauce you spilled all over your “I’m with stupid” t-shirt.