When it comes to repackaging pop culture, nothing has ever been sacred. Least of all R. L. Stine’s Goosebumps, which has been reworked a few different ways on-screen at this point. But now, a new series tying together some of the more seminal books in the series is being tailored toward Gen Z. A generation, evidently, that sees millennials as being “geriatrically” on par with baby boomers. Because, as it should be no secret by now, even a senior in high school can be billed as an “old hag” by a Gen Z freshman. And naturally, that ageism always applies more heavily toward a girl than a boy. Even for a generation as supposedly evolved as Z.
Which brings us to the fact that their blatant prejudices against anyone older than them is not exactly the epitome of the “wokeness” they proclaim. While some would argue Gen Z has every right to rail against the generations that have come before them as a result of placing the blame for the climate change effects they will endure on the careless actions of their forebears, what many fail to see is that Gen Z consumerism is exactly the same if not worse than previous generations. And that stems largely from a fast fashion fetish (*cough cough* Shein) that TikTok—Gen Z’s Bible—has only helped fortify. There seems to be very little concern, in fact, with the environment on Gen Z’s part. Though the smokescreen of having Greta Thunberg as their “spokesperson” might easily lead one to fall into the trap of believing Gen Z is “different,” the truth is that they’re all still living like there’s no tomorrow (e.g., engaging in the same rapacious capitalism as everyone else) because there probably won’t be…at least not for those who can’t afford to live in the zones where climate change hasn’t made the land uninhabitable.
Millennials, it can be argued, were instilled with stronger values about environmental conservation, starting from elementary school. Told to get rid of their waste appropriately, “video instructionals” featuring Recycle Rex and urgings to cut up six-pack plastic rings before disposal so marine life wouldn’t get tangled in them were par for the educational course. In the boomer era, no such education was given. Instead, that generation had to contend with “in the event of nuclear war” instructionals (the instruction? “Duck and cover”). Reading was also still par for the course in “millennial times.” Especially Goosebumps, which was quickly translated into an Are You Afraid of the Dark?-esque series (one that famously featured Ryan Gosling in the “Say Cheese and Die” episode).
Thus, for Gen Z to wield the very texts that millennials grew up against them feels tantamount to them trying to say they know more about the internet. Like that blip when they announced using the laughing/crying emoji was a mark of millennial embarrassment (a.k.a. a sign of being old and out of touch). To that, one millennial memed an image of the lion from The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe saying, “Do not cite the deep magic to me Witch. I was there when it was written.” With the text above it reading, “Me when Gen Z tries to tell me which emoji you can or can’t use.” The same goes quite literally for Goosebumps, with the original book series being written and released between 1992 and 1997. For many a millennial—particularly the middle-class millennials to whom the literature was tailored—this series was emblematic of their childhood. And, funnily enough, the tagline for the latest series adaptation is: “Scarier than you remember.” Maybe because it’s pretty goddamn scary to see Gen Z or “templates of Gen Z” tossing out ageist jokes at people who are as young as Taylor Swift. Case in point, using a Gen Z character by the name of James (Miles McKenna) as a mouthpiece for furthering the already increasingly bad blood between millennials and Gen Z (a dialogue maneuver that seems to be unnecessarily cruel). As all jokes made at the expense of age are.
The “joke” in question comes when James says, “…like a millennial on TikTok seeing a slang word for the first time and trying to use it like they know what it means.” First of all, many self-respecting millennials (save for celebrities) don’t bother to fuck with TikTok. They stick with the classics, i.e. Instagram. In fact, TikTok is a direct cause of why ageism among Gen Z is way more rampant than it ever was among other generations. And while, sure, most who experience youth are prone to making ageist comments as though they don’t realize the reaper (of youth) is coming for them sooner rather than later, Gen Z digs are not only more pervasive because of the false standards of beauty placed on people as a result of social media scrolling 24/7, but because those digs are immortalized on said tool of self-destruction. That means when Gen Z is old and decrepit, they can look back “fondly” on all the ageist things used to say; it’s right there on the internet.
Worse still, the actor playing James is pulling the ultimate millennial media trope of portraying a high schooler while in his late twenties. With this in mind, it also bears noting that McKenna himself is twenty-seven, this considered past the cusp of being Gen Z (generally considered to be born between the years of 1997 and 2012). So when he says these words, he’s really only doing damage to himself, to his “own kind.” And, to this end, when it becomes clear that the attempt at Gen Z parlance is being written by people outside that birth cohort (made clear when James says in a cheugy manner, “It’s getting really cis-het up in here”), well, it’s almost even more offensive. Because why try to fan the flames of a war that’s already openly raging (complete with Gen Z hashtagging so many things “#millennialcringe”)? And, more importantly, why try to pretend that Goosebumps is anything other than hallowed millennial text that should never be used to insult them? They, after all, were the ones that helped build that YA empire. That simply isn’t the kind of hurt R. L. Stine ever wanted to inflict.
