Bret Easton Ellis

I've been around long enough to hear about a lot of syndromes.

And we're all – here's what – no.

There's not a boy I grew up with who on a summer day wanted to sit in class who did not want to run outside and chase something or smash something or throw something.

You take a nine-year-old boy, you set them behind a desk, and you tell them to sit there for an hour and listening to some sort of asexual old broad in their 50s with their hair up weird explain something about the Civil War, and every single one of them is going to be looking out the window and tapping their foot.

Right.

Dying to get out there and play a little four square or whatever it is.

That's how at least guys are wired.

I really can't.

I can't speak to win.

But this is all prescribed to guys or mainly prescribed to guys.

It's like he can't sit still.

He can't sit still because you're boring as shit.

You're talking about a war that's 250 years old.

The sun is shining.

Right.

But at the same time, I mean, when I was a kid, I mean, I know that I was taken to task for watching too much TV, for, you know, liking punk rock.

Like, what in the hell is the world coming to?

You're seeing a band that, you know, has razor blade slices all over them and pins in their ears.

I mean, oh, my God, kids today.

Yeah.