Dear Baby Boomers:

I realize that you built your whole generational identity on our relationship, which is why it pains me so greatly to say this, but the fact is, you've gotten old and selfish and mean, and you're more interested in money than all the wild things we used to do together.

I can't stand living in a relationship that's past its glory days. I need a future different than the past.

Sure, there are still things I love about you, and always will. But I just can't date anybody who would drive a Lincoln Navigator and lie to get us into wars.

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Dear GenX:

We had so much potential, you and me. And here we are, fifteen years later, and what's happened to you? Wii, television shows on DVD, apathy. You've let yourself go, sweetie. You just don't care anymore.

Where's the fire in the belly? Where's the satire? Where's the outrage?

I don't find you attractive anymore.

It's just not working out.

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Dear Sen. McCain:

When your partisans call your colleague in the Senate a bitch, the appropriate response is not "I like that."

Shame on you.

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Dear Fiscal Conservatives:

How many times do I have to spell this out for you in short words? The Republican Party is lying to you. They'll say anything to get what they want. Anything.

My God. They've already started to hit you, haven't they?

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Dear Internet:

God, you have the attention span of a gnat. Look at me when I'm talking to you.

It's over. KTHXBAI.

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Dear Sen. Clinton & Sen. Obama:

How about you two kids play nice, or I'm giving you both a time out?

Sen. Clinton, please look up the definition of the word "Plagiarism." Sen. Obama, please keep your dog on a leash.

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Dear American Voters:

The fact that gender bias is even more ingrained in our culture than racial bias does not make it somehow more acceptable.

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Dear Teens and Twentysomethings:

Hey baby. Wanna party?

I'll just start to drink and spend all your money, and leave you in a ditch by the side of US Route 1 in the rain in November, with one shoe off and one shoe on. Embittered, you'll become a stockbroker and blame it all on the Mexicans.

But in the meantime, won't we have fun?

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Dear Bobbie Zimmerman:

A Broadway musical?!

How could you?

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---Love,

     Social Revolution