There was once a generation of Americans who fought in a world war. They were called the greatest generation because they were sexist, racist, and weren’t afraid to say that they believed in community norms. These included sneaking a kiss and ‘smear the queer.’ You could find out more if you asked your older brother.

Then their children, the baby-boomers, began to grow up and the older generation became alcoholics.

For the greatest generation, your friends were secretly more important than yourself. This has its pluses and minuses. But their kids never fought in a war together, they just watched it on TV.

The baby-boomers were so resentful for that, they bought whatever they could to express it. Doyle, Dane, and Bernbach.

Then the greatest generation surrendered. The baby-boomers just wanted to enjoy life, was that so wrong?

The thing about it was that no one knows how to enjoy anything unless someone explains it to you. Even sex.

Community norms became the province of big companies, who created far more stringent and exclusionary rules than anything possible just after the world war. I call these the secret rules, because they are properly ideological (as in, ‘they do not know it, but they are doing it’).

But the problem was that communities based on buying things only talked to each other about buying things, layout/design, and enjoyment. They didn’t know how to deal with something like domestic abuse unless it could be put into syndication. They liked buying things because it didn’t hurt. You always feel better an hour after watching Schindler's List.

The rules of the greatest generation hurt a lot.

As the century went on, social mores became further and further defined by the new secret rules, until everyone was impossibly free. You can’t deny it. One secret rule is this: you will always feel stupid talking about the things most important to you.