A Personal Apology From The Word “Alternative”

What ‘s up, dudes and dudettes!

The word ‘Alternative ‘ here. It ‘s been a while, right? I haven ‘t seen you in like, what? 20 years? Seriously, when ‘s the last time we hung out? Lollapalooza? Getting high before the Porno for Pyros set?

Look at us. We ‘ve both really changed, huh. You with your job and new life and everything else you ‘ve got going on. Me, co-opted by bigots and liars and overall shittiness.

That ‘s why I ‘m here. I want to apologize. Like a lot of 90s stars, time has not treated me well. These days, I ‘m taking the work I can get, and that work is mostly terrible. I ‘m very sorry. I regret everything about it. I hate what I ‘ve become, which, ironically, is pretty hateful.

Let ‘s remember the good times: when I was all about skateboarding, grunge music, and some guy with a ponytail and an indeterminate accent giving you hallucinogenic tea and some crystals to cure your chronic pain. If only I could go back and secure myself with a chain to the comically oversized jeans of that era of Alternative.

There was a time when an alternative fact would ‘ve been a piece of trivia about something like how many tattoos Flea has. Now, it ‘s just angry white person code for a lie.

There was a time when Alt-Right could ‘ve referred to your inalienable birthright to pierce your nose and wear flannel to a wedding. Now it ‘s just the internet brand name for Nazis.

Look at me. What have I become? I am so sorry.

For what it ‘s worth, I ‘d do anything to go back. I miss the old times. I really do.

My sincerest apologies,

‘Alternative ‘

P.S. I ‘ll take that guy from The Prodigy over Heath Ledger ‘s Joker any day.