A Tale of Two Titties

Now that I have your attention…

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” — Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

When was the last time that sentence accurately described your life?

Um, let’s see. Every day since I turned 20? Before that it was only the worst of times. Actually, it’s still the worst of times, at least I assume that it is, I’ll know for sure in twenty years when I’ll have some basis for comparison. Actually, scratch that, I hate my life.

Actually, isn’t there a porn movie titled “A Tale of Two Titties”? And if there isn’t there should be. Don’t you love porn that makes references to literature or movies? Or parody porn, I love that.

Anyway, what were we talking about? Man, I really get distracted easily today, I mean we were talking and suddenly there was Dickens porn (though, I mean… the name does invite it).

Aaanyway, yeah, now, right now, best time, worst time, all together, say last three years. I moved into my own place but without Boyfriend I couldn’t pay rent. I finished my degree but I can’t get a real job with it. I finally have a small job after long unemployment, but they’re dicking (hah!) around with my payment. I’m going back for my master’s but I have so much to do I’m setting myself up for failure. It’s the 21st century, endless possibility on the one hand, abject poverty and cruelty on the other. You can find anything and everything on the internet, but anything and anyone can find you. So much technology but I don’t have access to most of it and no understanding of any of it, everything is too abstract. Everything is moving ever faster and I’m stumbling behind. So many things you could buy if only you had the money, but you blow it all on bills. Humans live longer and longer, but in just a few decades they tell me there won’t be any money in the public purse for pensions. The standard of living has never been so high and neither have been the cost of rent, electricity, heat, fuel, food.

And the worst of all is it has always been this way, in every generation, and mine is not special and neither was yours. You can’t even feel unique in your mid-twenties depression. Just look at the mighty Dick before the Lord, good old Charles. Do you know the rest of the opening from A Tale of Two Cities?

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”

Every goddamned century. All the same. It’s really, really boring. Millions of people raised with the false sense of security that one day they’d hit that period of smooth equilibrium, for my generation usually once we graduate, get a job, maybe start a family. The best of times without the worst of it.

Of course that’s never going to happen. I’m still waiting for the slighty-less-worse of times. Maybe even for the a-bit-better times. If I’m really feeling optimistic, I might hope for some okay-ish times. But as it is, I’m stuck in a superlative scenario, which I, not only as a linguist, but that’s definitely a factor, disapprove of greatly.

Dammit, Dickenezer. How did you know so much about the 21st century anyway?

Alright, let’s cut the philosophy. Here, have a picture of two tits:



…what? Don’t you like tits?