"kids these days have no respect"

or so I'm told.

pretty easy narrative to sell. shift the blame from the raiser to the raised. absolve the guilty. ignore the lack of role models. ignore the abandonment of responsibility. ignore the violence. ignore the degeneracy. ignore the broken homes and broken vows.

who cares about owning a home when you can stream 6 seasons. who cares about raising a family when you've never felt like you belong. who cares about building a legacy when you can live for the moment.

but guess what?

the kids care.

more than you know.

it gnaws at their bones. makes their skin crawl. they see through the lies. simulacra and simulation. crumbling cities and derelict towns. walking over cracked pavement. neon signs above them shilling garbage where cathedrals once stood. duty swapped for distraction. layers of social capital and cohesion torched by their elders. the machine hums faster than ever, but it's broken.

and the kids know it.

deep down, they've always known.

they'd probably shed a tear if they remembered how.

fathers who should've been titans, who should've taught their sons to wrestle the stars. choosing to kneel. or leave. comfort over courage. greed over grit. fatherlessness isn't just a missing man, it's a missing spark. I got lucky. blessed by the presence of a soldier. many weren't. some never recovered.

the kids don't have respect because respect must be earned, not taken. how dare you demand anything different. shameless. appalling. they were told to dream, but not too big. they were told to trust the process. hollow words. empty institutions. every promise of progress spent or spoiled before it reached them. fake mentors peddling platitudes. indiscriminately harvesting trust and tall poppies alike. systems that reward playing small. blending in. man-made gravity. the whole world is a stage, and the kids are sick of the acting. they want to give up. shrug like atlas. let the old world fall.

but they don't. they know better.

they've outgrown nihilism. outgrown the lies. outgrown the cages. the world told them to settle. take the scraps and smile. you'll own nothing and be happy - yeah right. keep telling them to "stay in your place" and they'll press against those walls until the walls crack. then crumble. they know what's possible.

the cities are changing. the world is changing.

pre-golden era.

unprecedented access to information networks. intellectual unity. many men, one voice. silent, spiritual armies. brothers they never knew they had. different faces, same story. quiet vows under cracked streetlights - the kind that flicker like dying stars. alleyways thick with rain. voices low, but firm. leaky basements. flats with broken windows and no heating, but they barely feel it. they're used to the cold. grey hoodies, worn-out trainers and bleary eyes. they aren't giving up. no one can out-suffer them. they know something their fathers, and their fathers before them, forgot.

the kids have more respect than you could possibly imagine, just not for those that abandoned them.

the boys from back home are on the move.

a silent exodus.

not to new lands, but to new ideas. the path is long but they don't care. if there's one thing they know, it's how to endure. step by step. following the footsteps of giants that once walked among us. resurrecting them. phoenix from the ashes. rebuilding the castles they heard stories about as children. filling them with the kings and queens of old. brick by brick. rise and rise again, until lambs become lions. a return to art. to truth. a return to beauty, love, and ideas that feel alive - and soon will be.

the kids don't have anyone left to respect, so they decided to become someone they respect.