I saw two indie rocker-looking urbanites on 9th street near 6th ave. exchange glances while passing each other on the street this afternoon. It kinda made me giggle, but it also kinda made me sick. The moment had a movie-like whimsy about it. I couldn't contain my laughter. I always find this comical element in strangers leering shamelessly at each other.
I love being an onlooker to shameless ogling.

Deny the existence of Park Slope hipsters how you wish, but they exist. Oh, yes, they most certainly do. You wouldn't know it unless you lived there, though, or in any of the contiguous/nearby areas like Redhook and Carroll Gardens. They're your neighbors, you spot them on F train platforms/in F train cars, making occasional pilgrimages to the territory of their more outlandish siblings of the north via the G line, heading to the local hipster establishments, doing their laundry on hungover sunday mornings (and sometimes maybe catch them eyeing each other at street intersections). They're allllright. Not too intimidating, relatively easy to co-exist with, and on rare occasions, you may be lucky enough to bear witness to their slip-ups, when they fall briefly from their high mighty pedestals of self-involvement, apathy, and unconcerned condition on the account of an intriguing stranger who catches their fancy -- a spectacle indeed.

It's an epidemic. Hipsteritis: will manifest into an alternate personality in the weak-minded, if left untreated for a prolonged period.

I watch people around me (and some people in the public eye as well) undergo their sad transformations, and I scoff in their general direction. But what do I have to say for myself?

I used to be all,
"Establish a strong sense of self. Be really fucking elitist about it. And try not to let yourself be too heavily influenced by the passing fads. It's good to be up on the passing fads -- but audience participation? Unnecessary. Understanding it doesn't have to mean letting it interfere with your lifestyle decisions and thought process. Or consent to let it dictate your fashion choices."

But hey, what good did it do me? I had a strong sense of self (well, maybe not strong enough, because even I eventually succumbed), a firmly established identity, who the fuck were you? Before you lost yourself? When you were human? who were you? Which begs the question: who the fuck was I? Oh, I know who I was. I was damn proud of who I was. That didn't suffice; I failed to overcome the lure of being a "type", stubborn opposition and obstinant resistance only carried me so far. Apprehensive, I approached with caution and mistrust. What do you know, I still got bitten! I fought it for a considerably long time, didn't I though? Kind've prolonged the transition...... Anywho, that means nothing now. Can't wait 'til this is all over so I can be myself without feeling inadequate. I thought I was perfect the way I was.

Weak-minded individuals.... that includes you, and you, and you, and..... yes, me too. Noteable musicians also in this boat: Carrick Moore Gerety and all six ex-members/remaining members of Phantom Planet. I'm in good company, aren't I?
But seriously, they should know better. They're the musicians, they ought to know they need to stand firm. They are advantaged. They have the power to influence; instead they are merely being influenced. Oh, how much easier it would be if I were a musician.

Tight jeans on guys are overrated, I still dig the Gap modely bootcut style of a few years back. And hoodies that fit properly. And no, while I still refuse to wear retro skirts and ugly pointy shoes these days, and still think oversized garments are great, I probably used to look a lot better myself. Actually, I know I did. But I got suckered in and have become very much a lost cause. My apologies to humanity and all the free world.
How much admiration I would gain regain for myself if I were to return to my normal self. But I can't know that this is going on and not be part of it. When this is over though, oh when this is over..... I will surely rejoice (and mourn) that this terrible trend has finally relinquished its hold on me..

You are an atrocity of unwise fashion choices. But so am I. So am I. I guess I don't transcend fad after all. I am no longer entitled to scoff or scrutinize or examine. I miss being superior. I miss the entitlement. I miss being able to think of them as my subordinates. I miss all the power I convinced myself I had, and whatever else it was I knew I had over them.

Still in denial.. Still have delusions of self-awareness. No, I'm not a hipster. No, I'm not an indie snob. I don't wander about with a vagrant mind, latching onto every promising new cultural and musical movement that comes along, and -- what's that you say? Me, pretentious -- ? Why of course not! Still in denial, still in denial.... gotta respect that.
As for my shoes, the ones I wear exclusively and love so dearly... In my defense, I got these because they resembled those awesomely Gen X-ey looking old school airwalks more closely than anything else I could find... not because they are a hipster status symbol of the highest order. To be honest with you, I wasn't aware of it at that point.
Haven't any excuse for the keyclip though.

In its early stages of development, it was the anti-subculture for the mild, none too threatening or outlandish. But the garb has become outlandish. The attitude has become pretentious. It's not original anymore.
Time to leave.

#3 of consecutive tuesday Damnwell shows at Lakeside Lounge went well; the volume of people present in the audience had gone down from the previous week, so there was ample standing room.... I arrived on time this week, having planned on actually.. SEEING the band. But that wasn't a problem, I managed a spot in the front right by the corner. They sounded amazing, as usual, and the singer's lyric/tab sheets kept falling in the middle of their sets, as usual. Good stuff, good stuff. (I'm going all the way out to Maxwell's in NJ to see them again on Saturday with local band extraordinaire, SUREFIRE!)

But the thing was, I was stuck next to this annoying guy who kept whipping out a sharpener and sharpening a pencil. (He was sketching the band -- and not very well.) I'm pretty sure he got pencil shavings all over the floor. And that would have been fine in any other event than that he started speaking to me -- and he did!

I wrapped my scarf around my neck like so:

to facilitate a quick efficient strangulation (as quick and efficient as strangulations go, anyway..)
I ignored his advances and tried to be as unresponsive as possible by limiting the variety of my replies exclusively to monotone perfunctory "uh-huh"s, but he kept on rambling and slaving over his miserable "art". And then I tried to find a point at which to sever our absurd, one-sided conversation (I was not speaking, unless you consider a series of "yeah"s and nods "speaking") with the "I have a boyfriend" lie, but in the darkness of the bar, I couldn't seem to locate the right place to strategically slip it in.
At one point I think he said, "So what are you into?"
"Huh?"
"what's your style...? Or are you just chinese?"
And I thought, oh dear, and two more sets of verbal exchanges later, I said, "I've gotta be going." The whole thing was just kind of entertaining. I got a good laugh out of it.

Sorry, no impromptu suicide, heh.

My best friend noticed an influx of 'strictly platonic' personal ads on craig's list concerning organized snowball fights in various parts of the city, and it prompted her to write this:

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to all you hipsters who want to play in the snow...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reply to: anon-56723391@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-01-22, 11:23PM EST


So, you're a transplant to NYC. Probably from some hokey town in the midwest. Or maybe upstate. Perhaps Suffern? Oh, you're sufferin' alright. Been wondering when you had a chance to get old. It seems like just yesterday when you were new to the city, fresh faced and full of gosh darn good ideals. Going up to people on the subway platform and explaining, while yes, you know you need to take the G train to get to this "Lorimer Place" you don't know whether to take it uptown or downtown, and won't you please stop laughing? But alas. It's four, five years, later, and now it's you who's having a laugh at the expense of that clueless kid, you old, bitter bastard. But now it's snowing, and you see this lovely blizzard as a chance to recapture your youth. Yeah, because despite numberous claims to the other wise, your earliest memories are not of realizing your own superiority, or that of Apple products but of...actual emotions. Could it be? You weren't BORN apathetic? So go, play in the snow, my little hipster. Build a snow man (or at least try). Make ice cream with a little vanilla extract and virgin snow. Smile, and not just sneer. Enjoy the storm while you can and when all is said and done, just be sure to ask yourself why an intervention from Mother Nature was necessary to try to make you happy. For once.







it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests



56723391

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she's great, isn't she?

Honey I'm doin' alright......

I'm on a steady physical/psychological/intellectual decline and am helpless to save myself. At this rate, I'll hardly be able to live through the first half of my 30s. Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? I'm not even sure I'll last through my 20s. My life will eventually come to a point where suicide will be the only remaining noble option.

screw bread and cake! eat a powerbook!

a discussion about hipsters.
speaker (me): "They're too poor to afford food."
other speaker (her): "They can eat a powerbook."

yum! appley.

Well. Screw your hip factor -- I still favor Windows over Mac. Even though they might not be a status symbol in certain circles of urban bohemians..... or quite as enticing when you're hungry. Besides... hearsay is that they leave behind an aftertaste most commonly described as "unreliable".
Well. with that I take leave of you, because I'm famished, with intentions to venture outside in search of food..... unless... anyone got an Apple product they'd be willing to part with?