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Not only will I not have toilet paper, I'll be too old for sex. I'm going to take a ray gun and blow the top of my head off before the government-sponsored Green Police come and do it to me. The last act of my life will be my choice.

If you're around fifty years old, you're it. You and I. We're the last full generation on earth. What do I mean by this?

A couple weeks ago a story ran in the paper about how within fifty years, maybe thirty, fish in the ocean will be wiped out if the present rate of over-fishing continues. Every week you hear this. The end of the polar ice caps, the end of the protective ozone layer around earth, the end of wild tigers and bears oh my! The end of this, the end of that.

All within two or three decades.

The last full generation. That means that we……are the last people who lived the majority of our lives in a recognizable world that had trees and animals and water and breathable air.

There will be so many people in thirty years, I'll be considered a useless eater. The Green Police, a Gestapo-like outfit run by an omnipotent president with dictatorial powers, will send me a laser beam mailer declaring me to be obsolete. But I won't let ‘em take me alive. I'll barricade myself in my force field condo with my solar powered wheel chair.

"Come in and get me copper!"

No more shining, clean, cheery rest home with fresh-cut flowers in the assisted-living dining hall, and where the nurse sweetly holds your hand and takes your pulse and asks, how you feeling today, Mister Johnson?

You know how they'll get rid of us? They'll tell us we're wanted on the phone, the newly developed invisible micro phaser phone. When you sit in an easy chair and lift the phone receiver, supposedly to talk to a long lost relative, the chair will fall into a hole and come back up--- without you in it!

Sure, life in the old old days (Middle Ages) was no bed of roses. In fact, your bed was a hay bail in a mud hut. You had to sleep and have sex in front of your relatives, children and cousins in the hay pile and defecate and piss in it too......in full view. You only lived to be thirty. And, as you looked down at your disease racked, red disgusting, boil-ridden, pock-faced offspring in the hay, you also stunk.

But at least you could smell. The smell of stale urine and dried crap and hay can be arousing.  

In fifty years, there will be nothing left to smell.

My generation is going to get blamed. And they'll take revenge on us baby!. You and I. And I'll be too weak to fight the bastards.  

They'll blame me.

We were the ones who polluted the earth, who drilled all the oil, who drove the cars and melted the system. We were the ones who caught and ate all the fish.

No! I'll scream at the police. My father did it! His group. They were the greedy sonsofbitches who acted like there was no tomorrow. They're the ones who had all those children (baby boom). I was a hippie!

Yeah, but he (your father) is dead, they'll tell me. We can't get even with him. But we can make you pay.

I already paid! I'll protest, scream. I had to put up with equal rights for minorities and women. My father's generation could be racist and sexist. They had all the fun. You think I like that? You think I like being old?

Say your prayers.

They'll put a departiculate anti matter vaporizer gun in my mouth. How do you want it? Here, or in the front yard?

Give it to me here big boy!

We got to have a nuclear war. That's the only thing that can save earth. Like they used to say, I had to destroy the village to save it. Sure, things will glow for awhile. But after the smoke clears... maybe hope. You gotta blow some sh.'t away to make room.

Of course, it's tough to be considered sh.'t.

©2006, SammonSays.com.  Reprinted with permission.