This is My Raincloud. There Are Many Like It, But This One Is Mine

Kids who come out of the Seventies often carry little rainclouds with them—small pockets of darkness that make us feel at home. We’re comfortable with it because, as children, our horror movies were terrifying. Our music was belligerent. Our musicians spat cigarettes out onto the stage in concerts. We grew up on The Rocky Horror Picture Show, not Mean Girls, and our comedians didn't give a fuck. Darkness wasn't an enemy.

I just watched a 2014 remake of Annie. In keeping with the squeaky-clean sheen that covers kids’ worlds today, it was edited of all its melancholia and evil. All the flaws and cracks in the singing voices were obliterated, too.

I’m grateful I wasn’t born in this era. I much prefer my raincloud. I prefer never having known as a child whether a book would have a happy ending. These days, just about everything does. There’s a formula to stick to. Love has to end before he rushes to stop her at the airport and the only films that are morally questionable are age restricted.

Teens of today (god, don’t I sound old?) are given a view of morality that is easy to come by. Few games and films create discomfort or ask their audience to question their own principles. The guy gets the girl. The asshole doesn’t get the girl. True love always lasts. Meanpeople always fail. Just like in real life </sarcasm>

Back in my day, (there, I said it) every record you played was offensive. The nursery school playground was offensive. You had to build your own moral compass out of all that discomfort.

Your ethics were muscles that strengthened with every fucked-up situation you were exposed to because adults  let us figure shit out on our own. They didn’t tell us what to think--They taught us how to think instead.

Back in my day (this is not getting easier to say)… scary things were a part of everyday life. Hell, scary things were part of our bedtime stories. I played with my dolls to the gruff sounds of The Rolling Stones and Iron Butterfly. My Barbies fucking loved that shit.

Can we please bring the darkness and imperfection back? Can we stop pretending everything in the world is tied with a satin ribbon?