There’s nothing more ridiculous—and deadly serious—than television. Like a drunk uncle who has for years been taunted, mocked, despised, and yet never fully expunged from the larger family of entertainment, television keeps hanging in there, trying to produce something of value. On occasion it does. The recent rumpus over the hosting of the Tonight Show is an excellent illustration of one generation refusing to hand over the reins to the next generation.

Before anyone laughs at the idea of Jay Leno as some kind of hard-bitten (yet whiny) general who refuses to lay down his sword, think of the battle in larger generational terms. The Conan generation—the 30 and 40 somethings—have come up through a weird set of times. They are by-and-large the product of the Me generation. The Me generation has never been a big one for responsibility. In their 30’s and 40’s, the Me generation was making movies like The Big Chill. They were obsessed with finding a meaning for their historically unprecedented well-coiffed existence. And since the 80’s failed to really provide any answers, they extended their search well into the 90’s, the oughts, and now the 10’s. They’re not done yet. They don’t know why they’re here. Oliver Stone is making Wall Street 2, for godsakes.

And while this quality is endearing, indicating as it does a deeper quest for meaning and spiritual fulfillment, it also really fucks with the younger generation, who need real jobs now. Like Prince Charles perpetually waiting for Queen Elizabeth, the Conan O’Brien generation is apparently too weak or too polite to assert itself. Which, in realpolitik terms, means they don’t deserve to take the throne.

But shouldn’t the older generation, in the interests of continuity and furthering the overall progress of the human race, allow this younger generation proper passage? Jay Leno, by refusing to gracefully go into that good night, is in a way asserting that he has something more meaningful to say than Conan O’Brien. But what can Leno possibly say now? He’s had twenty years to say it. As far as I can tell, he likes cars.

Whether or not Conan has anything more meaningful to say is debatable, of course. But he seems to represent a larger trend of people who are tired of being manipulated by an older generation of confused, frightened folks who don’t know how to deal with the final curtain, and would prefer to just keep boogey-ing until the disco ball falls down.

And to be honest, I can’t really blame them.