(Editor’s Note:The following is Mr. Robison’s attempt at satire. He is attempting to satirize all those corny commencement speeches that are part of our society. The following attempt is a disturbingly pitiful failure.)

To the graduating class of 1998, or anyone else fortunate enough to be a card-carrying member of the last full generation of this century, welcome to the end of the world as you know it. We’re about to grow up.

Today finds us standing at the gates of tomorrow, which is Thursday, hurtling toward the weekend of our collective future. Our destinies lie in front of us like a baseball diamond shrouded in a misty fog of hidden opportunity. We’re bound to enjoy ourselves, if we can only find our way.

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For years we have drank deep from the keg of knowledge, sipped heartily from the bottle of experience, and are now prepared to chug vigorously from the mug of life itself. There is no new challenge that will daunt us, as far as daunting does, nor any risk we won’t receive readily and without regret.

The keys to a life lived well are jingle-jangling before our very eyes, waiting to be grasped, fully prepared to unlock the doors to a grand new existence waiting around the bend. We have been trained and we have been educated, and we will persevere, as well as prevail.

But we cannot allow the road of life to be a simple path toward the end, nor a simple trek to eternity. Nay, it is the road itself that brings the greatest pleasure, the journey that causes us to quest, to seek our futures, shining brightly like a holy city upon a hill, or something to that extent.

So, I cannot foresee what life will bring for all my brethren or for those that I have met along the ride toward tomorrow, but I must say I see an exciting future, one brimming to the rim with opportunity for those filled with a passion toward life. We must seize the day, and squeeze every last drop of willingness and joy from its fresh, juicy pulp, warmed from the arrogant glow of a newly born sun. As it is the light from this sun that will allow us to see our way, even when the storm clouds of misfortune and strife dim its overwhelming splendor.

We, as a generation, have been raised in a greenhouse of overwhelming affluence run amok, with so much plenty of water and light, and certainly too much fertilizer. But if we are to branch out and become pollinated with the seed of experience, then we must become accustomed to a life lived outside the protective layers of good intentioned but elderly glass. It is our time now to bloom and grow, to show our hidden colors, our petals of glory.

And so I say to you, members of a blamed generation, the problems of this world, though not of our creation, are certainly ours to overcome, if we are to give our own children a legacy of pride. Thus, in retrospect, do not cancel my subscription to this resurrection, for we will be a rebirth of hope, and the creation of a new world, filled with joy and opportunity, and we, its noble caretakers.

(Editor’s Note:Contrary to our suspicions, all relevant tests came out negative)

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