My Postmodern Life - A Poem by Elissa Jenkins. Image created using Canva AI

Life is a password.
Life is a monthly subscription.
Life is scanning your own groceries.
Life is internet trolls.
Life is “That’s clearly AI.”
I used to embrace postmodernism.
But it was just a theory.
Now it’s practice.
Postmodernism is now real.
Which is so unreal.
Once upon a time
Postmodernism was quirky
It was the Gurge sucking a lot of cock to get where they are.
It was Lily Allen facing her fears.
It was Bad Religion going ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya, oh yeah
It was The Sims and how good I was at playing that and how bad I was at playing house
It was Internet Relay Chat and asl and meeting people irl
It was Parker Lewis Can’t Lose making us synchronise our Swatches
I was the teenage riot grrrl of postmodernism
singing NWA while reciting Maya Angelou and being told to smile during the grunge era
In my 20s I was the political postergirl of postmodernism
running a fundraising campaign
for my election called
‘Show Us Your Green Bits’
resulting in a band member jiggling his green strap on dildo up and down my body while I consented and thanked him for his set.
Through my postmodern 30s
I dieted for myself but really for a boy who I loved because
he was so funny and kind and so cruel and fucked up,
So I was also slim and stunning but deeply unhappy
All while researching and writing papers for my Masters, for which I
insisted on thrusting postmodern theory on top of my grounded research while they
insisted on giving me High Distinctions and a university award.
Oh how simple my postmodern life once was!
Now it’s dark.
Postmodernism got dark.
And I’m trying hard
So hard
To positively postmodern my way through my 40s
Playing with puppets, performance and pink hair.
But I’m failing because …
I can’t remember all my passwords and now I have software to remember them for me and last year that tool got hacked wot?
So I changed that tool to another tool which just isn’t as good and is now one of about 30+ things I subscribe to pay for each month including TV and toilet paper wot?
And economist Jim Stanford says the robots aren’t coming they’re already here, so why am I scanning my own groceries wot?
The troll isn’t the dark monster under the bridge anymore. The troll doesn’t even have cute, colourful fluffy hair. The troll is out and proud and even running media content online and I’m pining for Murdoch even though he’s awful, but Facebook – who steals our data to make us buy weird stuff – is also the reason my husband and I are now married wot?
And how is it that one can love and hate AI simultaneously and who is talking about how AI is postmodernism in practice wot?
Postmodernism isn’t a fun theory anymore.
This 2020s brand of
Postmodernism is miserable
So scary.
Postmodernism never used to be scary.

I don’t want to postmodern anymore.

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