From the crack-infested slums of Maryland to the top of the New York Times Best Seller list, Sir Robert Bryson Hall II (also known by the stage name of Logic) has trekked far off the trodden path when it comes to the American success story, reaching acclaim in not just the rap game, but now the literary community through his freshman work of fiction, titled "Supermarket."
In the ethos of modern American politics, a veneer of revolutionary calls for global climate change has simmered to the lid of the nation’s policy reformist cause. With that, youth activists have swarmed themselves behind the charisma of Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, the freshman congresswoman representing New York’s 14th district, who, as of late, has been headlining the country’s surging push toward clean energy. Her highly controversial Green New Deal — a ground-shaking proposal that pushes to implement decarbonization nationwide — has created disdain among those opposed to the legislative resolution. The proposal would eviscerate the United States’ dependency on non-renewable fuel sources in a mere twelve years, with the helping hand of unwarranted massive government intervention. Supporters, conversely, are caught up in the cause of being flag-bearers for planetary salvage, and preventing mankind from further entrenching itself in the destruction of Earth. Similar in being rebellion-laden, the opening title sequence to the mid-2000’s sitcom "Malcolm in the Middle" often was met with an onslaught of head-banging, punk teenagers blaring the cacophonous lyrics, “YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME, NOW!” so loud that the speakers themselves probably just about went deaf afterwards. The mantra became a coalescent force for these adolescent pugilists to unite under as they partook in the viewing pleasure of one of television’s dingiest, yet most uplifting series to hit the airwaves. With the amalgamation of the show’s ‘f-you’ overtone and the resilience that encapsulates the juvenile experience, the theme song let viewers know that they were about to partake in a twenty-minute bombardment of pure teenage rebellion and chaos. This musical decree, titled “Boss of Me,” served as the battle cry for the wonderful show, and to this day resonates in the backdoor of its former, now-grown fans’ urge for mutiny. Ocasio-Cortez expertly reinvigorated that call for mutinous disdain, as seen through her retort of “I’m the boss — how about that?” to skeptics of the Green New Deal, who pointed to the bulldozing of the nation’s economy and infrastructure that would be necessary in implementing such a disparate plan. Much like Malcolm’s recurring tone of defiance and refusal to capitulate to society’s expectations, Ocasio-Cortez too has shown her inner rebelliousness, as seen through the wailing and complaining that unfolded in her fiery responses to conservative and liberal pundits that continue to rip her manifesto to shreds. All being said, though, her ego far supersedes that of the make-believe characters from the fictional comedy — so much so that her bloated persona would be buoyant enough to float a raft of ten William Howard Tafts down the Mississippi without breaking a sweat.
An epidemic has rampaged through every nook and cranny of American dialogue, with no sign of ceasing its havoc upon public discourse. Indeed, the malevolent word ‘like’ has infiltrated every other sentence spoken by young adults in today’s new era of conversation, and I am merely here to shine a beacon of awareness upon the matter, not to unwield a vitriolic slew of insults and jeers at those who misuse the filler word. Full disclaimer: in no manner am I attempting to portray myself as ‘woke,’ considering that I once pitchforked these speech irregularities into my daily linguistic habits, far more than those who presently do. And yes, I am fully cognizant that I sound similar to a Gen Xer ripping on every facet of millennials and younger generations, but there is some substance to this argument.