I just had to link to this column in the New York Post by Ralph Peters (who, if you’ve been paying attention, is also Owen Parry, author of the Abel Jones mysteries). It harmonizes so well with my own attitude toward my generation, that I have to (metaphorically) wave it around, yelling, “See! See! I’m not the only one who thinks this way! An actual smart guy agrees with me!”

The real reason for my scorn for my fellow Boomers is, of course, founded in my deep, seething resentment over the fact that they got a lot of sex in the ’60s and ’70s, and I didn’t. (Also in the ’80s, ’90s and ’00s.) But that doesn’t make me wrong. If you despise Dan Brown, for instance, not because he writes lousy, heretical novels, but because he once gave you a wedgie in high school, your contempt is nonetheless well placed.