A 21st-century movie and television culture (The Golden Age) has basically adopted the following persona: "I'm smarter than you are. I'm more educated than you are. I dress better and have far better taste in music and movies. I'm cooler. My career is everything, plus I've memorized every episode of Game of Thrones. I'm on my second divorce and my kids are everything, except when they're not. I Twit, Kindle, and Kopi Luwak. And you don't" with no janitors, nor watchmen, salesmen, grocers, bus drivers, plumbers, mechanics, railroad clerks, pharmacists, cloth cutters, electricians, security guards, pipe fitters or painters in sight (or site) . . . all around us nothing but TV children of Reagan, a generation faced with no draft, no economic hardship if they play the game well enough (and Golden Age binge-addicts do nothing but play the game), no industrialization, no assassinations, no race or gender revolutions, and remote control drone-wars with no body bags allowed to be seen. . .
Yet there is David Simon, our hero. Better than that: our Balzac.
