Okay, I’m typing this post as fast as I can because the internet at my house has been REALLY slow and I’ve tried to post something THREE TIMES THIS WEEK but alas, problems of us first worlders.

HEY! I guess this post seems a lot cheerier than my last few and I bet some of you who give a rats bum are thanking your lucky stars that you don’t have to read my awfully sad rambling, but let me clarify something:

SOMETIMES I GET SAD AND I LIKE TO WRITE ABOUT IT AND I’M GOING TO KEEP DOING THAT

Onwards then, chums!

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ATTEMPT ONE – WEDNESDAY, MAY 14TH

There’s this little thing that I experience a lot. To call it jealousy would however be both extreme and an understatement. To put it simply, I have a crapload of emotions and I dont know what the hell to call them.

You know when you really love a band, or a new artist or author (ehm John Greeen ehm) and nobody else knows about them? Yeah, that’s often my position,and by often, I mean ALWAYS. The thing that I’m talking about though is when three months later, EVERYBODY knows who this person/group of people is/are (gosh this concord thing is frustrating)  and then individuality is lost and everything that once was your little secret gets sucked into the world of mainstream.

 

Okay, so maybe I’m really terrified of a lack of individuality, but that’s not what I’m here to blabber about. HIPSTER KIDS.  The fake ones who only become hipster after you tell them of  something (JOHN FRICKING GREEN). I guess I suffer from I-knew-about-it-first-stop-mainstreaming-it syndrome, making me an indirect hipster, I guess?

That’s why I’m here. Now, the definition of  ‘hipster’ has changed many a time, starting for me when googled it and got an answer about jeans. According to Urban Dictionary though, a hipster is:

a) Someone who listens to bands you’ve never heard of, wears ironic tee-shirts, and believes they are better than you.

b) Definitions are too mainstream. Hipsters can’t be defined because then they’d fit in a category, and thus be too mainstream.

c) A hipster is someone who is smart enough to talk about philosophy, music, politics, art, etc. with you all day long, but not smart enough to see how big of a tool s/he is. The only sure fire way to tell if someone you’re talking to is, in fact, a hipster is to ask them “are you a hipster?”. If they respond no, and turn their cassette player back on, you can be sure you’re dealing with a hipster.

Look, I have nothing against hipsters. Some people may classify me as one. As I’m typing this, my friends 12-year-old sister just came into the room and said, “Hey Shalom, if you hate hipsters, do you hate me too? ‘Cause if you do, it’s deck. I just think that your philosophies are wrong.” Now, 2 things on that encounter:

1) I DON’T HATE HIPSTERS

2) I swear that girl just googled ‘hipster things to say’ and recited what she found to me.

On the topic of googling things:

 

 

So I’m going to leave the hipsters with their hipsterness, and go for a walk because all of this is really becoming too mainstream.Seriously.

 

I’m out.

-Scoot xx