Death to the Hipster!
These guys are everywhere, with their half emo-half artist get-ups. Fedoras! Barrets! Emo elf pants! I don’t know what to do with them. It’s like they understand how magnificent art is but they can’t quite wrap their vapid little hearts around it long enough to absorb it, become it, and produce some of their own purely unique creations. They are copy cats, wannabe’s, and the very thick layer of film that pop culture is made of… And underneath all that film is the good stuff; the milk, the beer, the root beer of the root beer float. And it’s the very stuff they are made of but then not enough. Like the ingredients ran out half way through and their creator just added more water instead…
But on the other hand I can’t get mad at them because hipsters know good stuff. They know quality art and can sniff it out like blood hounds. Or maybe they just see that it should be special but can’t quite put their finger on it. So in their ignorance they congregate around it anyway, congratulating each other on their find. *sigh…
I can’t seem to make heads or tales of ‘em. Lukewarm. I’m still deciding whether those little things are a surplus or a hefty and undeserved tax.
