The Death Proclamation of Generation X

The acceptance of heroin as an acknowledged mainstream drug was unexpected, as smack had always been considered a bad drug, one that invited disease, addiction and the mathematical probability of overdose. But that possibility did little to discourage countless young individuals from experimenting with the dirty white powder. Heroin use begat the dark prophecy embraced by many in the ranks of Generation X, including Andrew Wood and Kurt Cobain, individuals who experienced heroin’s sweet euphoric numbness and shared in the bizarre perception that dope held more meaning than life, more truth than hypocrisy. That dark prophecy was eerily documented in Kurt Cobain’s agonizing and misguided suicide note as it reflected Neil Young’s lyrics, “It's better to burn out than fade away.” On an alternate philosophical level, heroin, a drug of isolation and solitude, was the perfect drug for this scapegoated group of youth. It validated the maxim that “life sucks” and, as such, was the most appropriate accoutrement for a generation of youth who had been “counted out” as worthless losers by a hostile media and other segments of an insensitive society. The use of heroin seemed a logical response to the despondency influencing the lives of Generation X, and, as rationalized by Mark Renton in Trainspotting, “It’s the only real honest drug. It doesn’t alter your consciousness. It just gives you a hit and a sense of well-being. After that, you see the misery in the world as it is…” Shooting dope was a negotiated tradeoff of sorts, a compromise. There was the warm flushing of the skin and the familiar itching just before the nod and the semi somnolence before the promised land of the dream state. But then, inevitably, there was a terrible craving for the dope which, if left unleashed, brought about the horrifying sensation of muscle being ripped from aching bone and the unimaginable pain of steel needles piercing the head. That torture soon led to surrender and the realization that it was better to just fix and get well rather than to spend four days of eternity kicking the habit; four days that added up to more than 24 hours, more than 38 hours, more than 42 hours. It was the junkie’s timetable, the junkie’s clock of hell. Withdrawal from heroin is a most difficult task. Junkies felt like they were dying over and over again, as they attempted to kick. And they really did die. There was always a part that would never be the same as they looked, with the constricted pupils of a dead man, into the mirror, and saw staring back a part that had died years before. Yet for some, they would rather die than get sick, would rather feel their heart and lungs give out in one last painless gasp. That too, regrettably, was all part of the deal as doing heroin underscored the philosophy of nihilism and the realization that maybe it was ok to practice self hatred and actively pursue the destruction of self. As the black curtain fell, that scenario played out for Andrew Wood, as it would soon play out for Kurt Cobain and River Phoenix and Layne Staley all those falling victim to the curse of heroin’s dark prophesy.