After Baby Boomers and before Millennials there is a group sometimes referred to as Generation X. Stuck in the middle of two conflicting philosophies, those arriving on the planet in this timeline have had to grapple with a ghosted identity, managing tenuous connections to either side. Assuming they’d benefit from the inroads made by their more radical older brothers and sisters, these post baby-boomers grew up expecting to land as adults in a liberal and open-minded world, peace guiding the planet, love steering the stars, and mystic crystal revelation guiding us all to a hopeful future. Having invested America’s wealth into ending war, hunger, cancer, and taxes, scientists could now get down to the business of inventing the flying car. A major shift in political idealism in the early eighties canceled those promises, taking with it the security of valuing reason over profits, as well as any hope of mile-high drive-thru fast-food restaurants.
Matthew O’Connell wants justice. Reconciling an imagined future with the actual, this son of Irish immigrants plots a course in order to fulfill some version of the American dream in a land of shifting priorities. Expecting some sign to help guide him through the inconsistencies, the confusion, the theatre that is life, he leans on the familiar, only to discover that family, religion, social activism, sex, friendship, even the hallowed box that brings television, these constructions no longer hold answers. Nothing is as it should be, destiny is at best random, and at worst, firmly indifferent. He finds little comfort in uncovering this dreadful truth. Except that, occasionally, it isn’t so dreadful. And it is in that tiny bit of hope that he finds the gumption to go on.
Cute hoor /kjut huɹ/ meaning: a cultural concept in Ireland where a certain level of corruption is forgiven – or sometimes even applauded – of politicians, businessmen, or the artful rogue sitting at the end of the bar trying to pick up your sister.