A little more than a decade ago, I was a young man in college despairing of what seemed to me like the injustice of living in uninteresting times. I mean, my parents spent their youth during the Swinging Sixties, by Jove. They were young and full of life and standing at the dawn of the moral and intellectual uprisings that would reshape the face of the globe in the coming generations. Never mind that my parents are generally of conservative temperaments and display none of the firebrand world-fokkery that the Sixties is known for. At least, none to my recollection. My parents are into Nat King Cole instead of the Beatles, Milo instead of LSD, Sunday mass instead of transcendental meditation, and the missionary position instead of clusterfornication. Of course, that last one was just an informed guess. The point is that they were there. Even if they did not really participate in it, they were bathed by the scouring fires of revolution.

JOIN THE REVOLUTION LOLZ!