There’s panic in the streets of San Francisco, a city of normally-calm tech bros and Full House tourists. The chaos is coming from the water, and no swimmer is safe.
Sea lions are on the rampage, according to the National Parks Service. It’s gotten so bad that one popular swimming area had to be closed. Three swimmers have been attacked by sea lions in a single week. And no one can recall a single attack happening ever before.
It seems obvious that these monsters are rising up in a bid to overthrow humanity, as we knew they one day would.
People call my generation “the Millennials,” which I’ve always found odd, because I grew up being told we were Generation Y, which sounds way better. I’m not a fan of articles lumping entire generations into a single term, as if everyone born within that 15-year time span had the exact same life experiences. I particularly dislike it because it’s always used for articles not so subtly asking, “What’s with these young folks, anyway? We were so much better when we were their age!”
It’s like the members of that generation completely forgot their parents’ generation was saying the same thing about them a few decades earlier. They also seem to forget that they raised the younger generation, and that they are in power to make the world a better place for these hipsters with their craft beers and skinny jeans. Nevertheless, sometimes these generational labels have to be used, because these demarcations exist in people’s minds.