We gotta let the past stay in the past

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There are things I am proud of being a part of, one of which is growing up in the 2000s. I have nothing but fond memories of growing up in such a transitional time. All the joy of trying the cinnamon challenge and proceeding to heave a huge cloud of spicy orange dust into the air, coughing and hacking in regret and considering my life choices at the age of eight are fond memories. 

Clicking on YouTube and seeing the ‘Broadcast Yourself’ logo and dreaming of internet fame, and proceeding to do nothing but waste time on such universal gems like ‘The Lazer Collection’ or Pewdiepie’s Amnesia: The Dark Descent gameplay. 

Sometimes, I’d rip the wrapping off a fruit roll-up, only to roll it back up and shove the whole dang thing in my gullet. Right now, 2000s culture is making a resurgence, but for the sake of humanity, I’m here to stop such shenanigans.

I firmly believe that each generation has its own unique culture that defines them. Regrettably, my generation is also responsible for the “Crazy Frog” abomination, but I suppose we all have our sins that we must atone for. 

Bringing the 2000s back means the unburying of forgotten horrors. I’m talking about Lady Gaga’s meat dress, that time at the 2010 Olympics when the huge ice pillar got stuck in the stadium floor, “Gangnam Style” and the blatant abuse of dubstep in every single Call of Duty gameplay video. 

By returning to the 2000s, we are also disregarding every technological advancement made. No more iPhones, no more Airpods, no more Raid Shadow Legends, none of that. Instead, you have Motorola Razrs, iPod Nanos that you could clip onto your belt loop, and 3D movies with fugly blue and red graphics that burned your eyes and made you violently sick.

Video games back in the 2000s were simply built differently. Back in my day, you weren’t a real gamer until you trekked through the toxic wasteland that was the Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 lobby.

When you accomplished the challenge of beating The Impossible Game after hours of raging, then you could join your friends on the upper tier of the lunchroom. You were granted the luck of the Gods if you found an abandoned Gameboy buried in the gravel underneath the playground. 

I’d love to return to the innocent times of my childhood, but bringing forth the woes of such a memorable time would be catastrophic. Unfortunately, returning to the 2000s would result in a space-time continuum that could destroy the whole world, or at the very least a gross cultural continuum that would destroy us through sheer awfulness and boredom.