RoboChildren: The Tussin Generation

RoboChildren: The Tussin Generation

James Hunt

Language: English

Pages: 218

ISBN: 1481030272

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Every decade has its version of the subculture. The 50s had the beatniks with their restless Benzedrine wanderings, the 60s had the hippies with their LSD-inspired politics, the 70s and 80s led into the cocaine riddled noses of punks and hair metal, and the 90s destroyed lives with heroin and prescription drug addiction - but always there was the idea of capturing moments of great depravity in writing. The counterculture of the 2000s grabs a bottle of cough syrup off the shelf and says, "Eh, fuck it..."

Based on the author's real experience, RoboChildren documents that mentality like nothing before it. What brand of mayhem sits in your medicine cabinet? On the surface, RoboChildren is a story of a group of teenagers abusing drugs - particularly DXM, the active ingredient in everyday cough syrups - to satisfy adolescent angst and the need to rebel. But underneath, it is an ode to the existential struggles of today's youth, who are turning to more dangerous behaviors in an attempt to define themselves in a cruel universe. The narrator, James, is an awkward and angry individual, who sees the entire world through morbid and paranoid eyes, even perceiving his friends as enemies. The road of heavy drug abuse drives James and his off-beat group of misfit buddies to throw caution out the window as they speed from one act of reckless abandon to the next, losing touch with reality along the way. James' mind is being split in two - one side, a promising young adult aspiring to reach great heights, the other, a drug addled outcast bent on destruction.

Along the way we meet James' friends, Zach, a hopeless thrill junky; Phil, a sociopathic addict of the most perverse variety; Gary, a volatile madman with nihilistic tendencies; and Daniel, the self-proclaimed spiritual mentor to the gang. Together, they form the RoboChildren, believing they have truly found the answer to life, and taking every risk to obtain it.

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about anything if they feel they deserve it – and they deserve anything they desire. Next, robo-trippers might have plots about brainwashing, getting money out of you, or just taking advantage of you in some way. It doesn't appear immoral to them until the trip is over, and even then it simply becomes a testament to just how lost their minds are, a laughing point. Sometimes they plot against you when they are standing right next to you, they probably don't think you can hear their little aside

tripping on the evil Dex were just casually walking past us as we were doing to them. Then I began to think, how many people did this? How many poor psychedelic junkies were there in this town? How many times have I walked right past someone who was just as fucked up as I am at this moment? I mean, if I do this on such a regular basis and no one even suspects a thing, is it unreasonable to think that there is an entire army just walking around in robotic stances praying they aren't discovered? I

whereabouts and was about to leave until she spotted us in her mirror, creeping upon her car like it was a wild beast. I cupped my hands and strained to see through her window and, even though she was next to the glass, I struggled to make out her face. She could tell right away I was under the influence of some horrible drug. She rolled down the window and I climbed through it to the back seat and Zach went around to the passenger seat. Then, a complete blur of conversation gone wrong. "What

machete, mad on substances she had no experience with, so I decided to obey her wishes without another word. She was an angel, and demons know best than to anger an angels, for theirs is comparable to the wrath of a thousand alcohol-tortured men. I stood outside the car with the rag we soaked in our ether and smoked my cigar, barely entertained within myself. I didn't even consider the potentially explosive combination of the freely burning tobacco and the highly inflammable ether. Soon

thoughts. I hope he is reading my thoughts better than I am. I couldn't make any sense of the gaping hole I once referred to as my brain. Holy shit, we were at the front door. When did this happen? Who invented the idea of thinking while walking? BRILLIANT! The simplest tasks become so amazingly complex, and perplexing. I swung the door open after deciding knocking would be too predictable. Everyone in the room froze for an indeterminate amount of time – caught in their illegal activities. I

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