I have observed a phenomenon that is deeply disturbing – not just an “unsettling” kind of… I have observed a phenomenon that is deeply disturbing – not just an “unsettling” kind of disturbing, but more a “close up of Joan Rivers’ polymer-based face” kind of disturbing. Some people – and I choke as I write this because it is so heart-wrenchingly awful – actually like the ’80s. We all know the horror that was the ’80s – the Reagan administration, big hair, Whitesnake, “Weird Al,” guys in brightly colored jackets snorting coke and trying to figure out those vexing puzzle cubes.

What type of mass delusion would compel people to think this nightmarish decade was a good thing? Man, I freakin’ hate the ’80s.

In a certain respect, one cannot expect much from the ’80s in the first place. After all, its precursor was the late ’70s, and we all know what an awful era that was. I suppose that after so many years of disco and Cheech ‘ Chong movies, everyone desperately needed change; therefore, the ’80s seemed like a good idea at the time. Unfortunately, ABBA and bellbottoms were replaced with Duran Duran and gargantuan sport coats.

You would think somebody somewhere along the line would have said, “Hey! Can’t you see what’s happening? We’re just setting ourselves up for eternal ridicule!”

Apparently no one from the ’80s had that much sense, but that does not mean people today need be so blind as well.

If you find yourself listening to Adam Ant albums and saying, “This guy is pretty good,” forget all previous impressions you have gathered about the ’80s, listen to the music for what it is, realize the truth, and say, “Man, this stuff sucks!”

If you’re a girl and you catch yourself in the mirror wearing skin-tight spandex clothing with hair bigger than one of those ancient redwood trees, do not kid yourself by thinking you look good.

I am convinced that no woman from the 1980s actually looked attractive.

If you’re a guy and you have donned a checkered suit from the David Byrne collection, bought a pair of huge, cheap, plastic sunglasses, and have loaded your hair with no less than three bottles of neon hair gel, you are in for a world of hurt. Small children cry when they see things as hideous as 1980’s fashion.

It is our duty to suppress memories of that ill-conceived decade and keep it a part of history that will not be repeated. Should someone near you even suggest that the ’80s were great, you have the right to administer some kind of amnesia ray, or, failing that, you have the right to beat him or her several times about the head.

Classical conditioning, similar to that which Pavlov used on his bell-craving dogs, may be the only way to obliterate this tendency to have sympathy for the 1980s. Some effective tools to use against ’80s lovers include, but are not limited to, baseball bats, big clown hammers and Pearl Jam.

The ’80s can, in a pinch, stand as a metaphor for all that is wrong in society. The events of the ’80s spawned the ’90s, and the ’90s have led us directly to the mess we’re in today. We must realize the decisions made twenty years ago were grotesque mistakes, and we must correct those who think otherwise – violently if necessary.

I fear for the future of a society that follows in the footsteps of a generation that elected a man like Ronald Reagan – twice. Let those bad Comedy Central movies serve as a constant reminder of the atrociousness of the ’80s, and let us never speak of Devo, Fine Young Cannibals, recreational cocaine, or puzzle cubes again. Man, I freakin’ hate the ’80s.

Kurt Esenwein was born in the ’80s, but that doesn’t stop him. Send e-mail to [email protected].