Species Name: Contradictus Oxymoronius
For those of you who may not be regular readers of “Thinning the Herd,” you may be unaware that I blog from my home in Los Angeles, CA…ground Zero of the Hipster infestation. A favorite summer past time of mine here in L.A. is going to the Hollywood Forever cemetery where they project cult classic movies on the mausoleum wall for all to enjoy. I know, watching a movie in a cemetery may sound like the start of a zombie movie, but it’s actually a lot of fun. People bring their picnic blankets, munchies, and whatever libations your heart desires. Sounds a little better, no? The only problem now is these fucking hipsters invading my beloved cemetery screenings wearing their cardigan sweaters, skinny jeans and black-rimmed glasses. If only it was a visual issue, I could probably just avoid looking at these fuckwads even though everything they wear screams, “LOOK AT ME! I’m so quirky!” It’s the state of mind of the hipster that really feeds into my hatred.
The hipster represents a counter-culture of young urbanites in their 20′s and 30′s that typically gravitate to artistic communities in various metropolis’: Williamsburg in Brooklyn, Wicker Park in Chicago, and Silverlake here in the City of Angels. These people are an oxymoron wrapped in an hypocritical conundrum. They supposedly represent the struggling artist, going against the grain of society, with little to no need for money, rejecting the blatant consumerism of American society. However, most live in expensive areas that require more than an avant-garde sensibility as a career choice. I also can’t stand how these “fartists” insist on dressing themselves in “vintage” clothes. Hey assholes, vintage clothes aren’t purchased at Urban Outfitters, they’re purchased at the Salvation Army. Uggh, let’s just do this already.
In a world where hipsters don’t exist to think they’re so fucking adorable:
- The mustache would go back to being reserved for porn stars and beat cops.
- Scarves would only be worn in the snow, not when it’s a paltry 67 degrees outside.
- No one would consider Bright Eyes to be brilliant.
- You hipsters would spare yourself the shame of reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance while sipping your chai latte at some independent coffee shop. Yeah, you’re a douchebag.
- We never would’ve gotten this poignant quote from Julie Plevin of the Huffington Post, “the whole point of hipsters is that they avoid labels and being labeled. However, they all dress the same and act the same and conform in their non-conformity” to an “iconic carefully created sloppy vintage look.”
God bless you Julie Plevin, you get it. The hipsters may consider themselves to be the second coming of the Beatniks, but there is one major difference. The Beatniks had the balls to abandon mainstream society and march to the beat of their own drum. You guys are all talk and no action. Your idea of abandoning mainstream society is regurgitating Ginsberg and listening to Aesop Rock. You guys are just posers, and I wish you and your deep cut V-necks would go the way of the Wooly Mammoth.
But one has to have dreams right?