Want to feel old? Your new boss just asked, “What’s a ‘Caddyshack’?”
Want to feel old? Your back pain is unironic.
Want to feel old? A celebrity you’ve never heard of has never heard of a celebrity you have heard of.
Want to feel old? Your children hate you.
Want to feel old? Greta Thunberg feels old.
Want to feel old? The last time you had sex, TV had commercials. And it wasn’t uploaded directly to your brain.
Want to feel old? Your new boss has hair.
Want to feel old? Olivia Rodrigo is running for governor of Quadrant 7—as a Republican.
Want to feel old? Computing power has doubled six times since you last laughed out loud.
Want to feel old? Sea levels have risen more than the length of your penis in the time it’s taken you to get over your ex-wife.
Want to feel old? The singularity happened a while ago. You didn’t hear about it? Yeah, it wasn’t a big deal. Like, a Y2K kind of thing.
Want to feel old? Your new boss is a computer. And he’s on S.S.R.I.s.
Want to feel not that old? Your male boss-computer makes twenty-five per cent more than his female counterpart, who is also a computer.
Want to feel old? When Congress talks about the “American taxpayer,” they mean you. You are the one responsible for funding our departure.
Want to feel old? You’re the only one on this spaceship who remembers when humans reproduced organically (and no one wants to hear about it—thank god for genetic printers).
Want to feel old? The gravitational pull on Mars didn’t fix your back pain.
Want to feel old? No one cares that you don’t understand Martian music these days. And it’s not too loud.
Want to feel old? The mole on your back is older than the alien fucking your ex-wife.
Want to feel old? A sentient species of algae that remembers the Big Bang just made an “O.K., boomer” joke about you (and it slapped).
Want to feel old? You’re thirty-six.
