I don’t understand what’s going on, but I’m really excited about it.

(January 23, 2008)

I don't know about you, but I can't wait for the stock market to crash. I'm pretty excited about living in a Hooverville, not wearing panty hose, going to speakeasies, listening to Fireside Chats on XM, wearing flapper pleats, and possibly getting fleas. I might even become a union supporter, contract Polio, and learn how to make a cabbage-based stew. Seriously, can you imagine how fun this will be? Obviously, the misery will be artful -- occasionally sepia.

Every face will be smudged with a thin layer of dirt, but will appear wise and world-weary, and the Baby Boomers will finally stop calling Generation Y greedy and self-important because we will have lived through something (everyone knows our fake war doesn't count, obviously). Plus, some of them will probably die finally. Hooray! We can claim all those corner office jobs to which we're entitled. All it takes is one devastatingly thorough economic catastrophe, which should happen any day now. It'll be so Scene.