The Rise Of The Brand-Name Beatnik

hipsters-in-space(Click here for part two of this essay, “Concerning the hipster situation”)

UPDATE: Why do you people like this essay so much? It’s quickly becoming my most popular post, with several hundred people reading it each day. I don’t understand that. It rambles and takes forever to get to the point. And I’m not even sure what my point actually was, now that I think about it. Can someone explain the appeal?

I rail against hipsters in this one, but I really don’t hate hipster kids. As one commenter pointed out, all kids are hipsters in one way or another. I think what irked me about this group of kiddos was that they were just vapid and stupid. But then again, that’s all kids. Heck, that’s most adults I know.

Maybe I was just in a cranky mood, but I’ll always be annoyed at people who appropriate cultural icons without having experienced them, or at least having some understanding of what they’re going on about. My problem with hipsters isn’t general. I don’t loathe every kid in vintage clothes and ironic t-shirts. I only hate the ones I hate.

Just don’t ask me to explain why. I don’t think I know, but there’s some truth to be found in the words of someone much funnier than myself…

“One way to tell if your Frank Sinatra hat isn’t working for you is if you’re not Frank Sinatra.”

Words to live by, hipster kids. Words to live by.

Earlier this week, it occurred to me that I really don’t like people. More specifically, I don’t like what pop culture and advertising has done to people. Even more specifically, I don’t like what people have allowed pop culture and advertising to do to them. My fiancée (And no, that’s not a typo. She’s my fiancée, and I’m her fiancé. Look it up, and stop proving how stupid you are by trying to correct me.) were trying hard to enjoy our dinners despite the brackish horde of youth sitting in the booth behind us, assaulting our delicate eardrums with an incomprehensible cacophony of brain-dead, waterheaded inanity.

There were three of them altogether – two guys and one girl – and each of them gave off the distinct odor of people who believe that items like soap and shampoo and general hygiene are things that happen to other people. As such, they appeared largely unwashed, with clumps of stringy, frizzed hair that put to mind what one might expect to find tangled around the diseased and bloated corpse of a beached mermaid, assuming merfolk are real and don’t believe in using Product. Salt water is murder on the old follicles, dontchaknow?

hipster-2So anyway, we were sitting there, like I said, and doing our best to try and enjoy our meal, despite the odious death cloud of stink that was wafting over our table from theirs, like some terrible low pressure system moving across Tornado Alley. That wasn’t the worst part, though. No, the ghastly stench of body odor combining with the heavy scent of diner grease mixed together with the sticky high notes of maple syrup was not the worst part. That oughta tell you something right there, kiddos – but I’ll go on, so that you can truly understand the depth of my revulsion and horror.

I don’t hate all people. Not really. Not all the time, anyway. It’s just that some people – and their numbers are growing at a geometric rate – have just been so warped and maimed by the jagged edge of disenfranchisement that they no longer resemble people, so much as they do dolls. Empty, ugly dolls with empty, ugly minds. They’ve been so distanced from society that they eventually gave up somewhere along the way, and surrendered the animus of their humanity to the trendsetting tyranny of Madison Avenue. At some particularly low point in their miserable lives, they must have looked up at their television screens and began pleading to the eldritch phosphorous gods of Red, Green, and Blue to have mercy on their souls, while they prostrated themselves in front of the glowing nightmare faces of nip-tucked bodies and Joker-faced smiles, and begged to be included.

ironic-hipster-shirtYou know the sort of person I’m describing. You’ve seen them before. They’re everywhere. They are in the winding queues of movie theaters across the country on the opening night of The Next Big Thing. They are wandering the country’s shopping malls and thrift stores, carefully choosing just the right combination of contemporary style and vintage fashion to create the perfectly crafted look of the sloppy, devil-may-care hipster. They are in your restaurants and churches and schools. They stand behind retail countertops and glare at you with judgmental hate and mocking scorn. They are the murderers of authenticity, and the usurpers of culture. They exist merely to consume iconic cultural imagery and reflect it back as a hollow, mirror-flipped inversion they call their own, personal styles. They pick and choose and steal from the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s, robbing those decades of meaningful art and music and film before appropriating it all for themselves – not as expressions of meaning or significance, but as simple, dunderheaded fashion. A way to stand out and stand apart. To deny being labeled and categorized. To be unique and special. To be just like all the other hipster rebels and trendsetters, who “have defanged, skinned and consumed” the dangerous visions of others “into a repertoire of meaninglessness”.

What’s worse than hipster fashion and hipster stench, is hipster conversation. As Brittany and I sat there in that diner the other night, listening in on the three hippayuppies and their incessant bibblebabble, we discovered that they can talk with each other at length about things like life and love – but only in the context of something else. Something trendy. Something marketable. Fashionable.

To my horror and disgust, this group of trendbucking trendies sat down and immediately began talking about World of Warcraft. They went on about this sword and that sword, this armor and that spell, and about monsters and dungeons and quests. They argued over the game. They agreed over the game. They bonded over the game. They lived over the game. But, not to pick on WoW players too much, I’m happy to report that they eventually moved on to other topics. Soon, their conversation turned to movies. Movies and criticism.

I knew a hipster who had a dog, and Bingo was his name-o!

I knew a hipster who had a dog, and Bingo was his name-o!

Here were three people who God mercilessly beat with a Texas-sized ugly stick before ripping their personalities out right along with any capacity for actual talent – and they had the audacity to try and criticize someone else’s hard work. According to these idjits, Robert Downey Jr. apparently not only “looked the part” but he “acted the part” while filming Iron Man. In contrast, Christian Bale neither had the “grizzled, hard-living look” of John Conner when starring in the latest Terminator movie, nor did he have the “acting chops” to “accurately portray the angst John would have over Judgment Day.” Things kept on like this, but only got worse.

Eventually, Hipster X was arguing with Hipster Y by way of stealing quotes from Kevin Smith, and Hipster Girl wasn’t taking sides. In fact, she would repeatedly pipe up to tell them how wrong they both were, before saying something about Star Wars or Thundercats, and then quietly lowering her head to get back down to the bleeps and bloops of her Nintendo DS. She did say something about how District 9 was a rip-off of Half-Life at some point, though – which pissed off Hipster X (or was it Y?) to no end, resulting in a ten-minute dissertation on the absolute storytelling genius of the Half-Life videogame saga. Seriously.

hipstersAs the meal winded down, their talk grew heavier. It started with a reverent and thorough examination of all things Harry Potter before the subject turned to love – but not love as any of them had ever experienced it. No, they could only talk about such a heady subject through the context of other things. This time, they chose music. “Which song do you think best describes love?” one of them asked. The answers were always wrong, of course. Each hipster was right unto themselves, and took great pleasure in discussing exactly why it is that their chosen song was the most genuine. The most pure. The most disconnected from real love and actual reality, which meant it was undoubtedly being ironic – the ultimate symbol of meaning to the hipster.

Hipsters are vapid, hollow-headed people who have intentionally disenfranchised themselves from society in an effort to become as enfranchised and accepted as possible. They express their disgust with pop culture by saturating themselves in it to the point where they no longer have the capacity to experience life as it happens to them, and can only find meaning through their meaningless appropriation of cultural iconography. They don’t know what love is, only what love songs are. They know movies that tell them what struggle and perseverance mean, but they’ve never struggled to persevere against anything. They don’t understand revolution, but they love Che Guevara. They can’t create art or music or literature, but they can critique it. They take anything with substance and whittle away thought until only fashion is left. They consume, they appropriate, and their live their lives through the detached lens of simulation and fantasy.

This is a stunningly accurate artist's rendering of a hipster girl. Trust me.

This is a stunningly accurate artist’s rendering of a hipster girl.
Trust me.

I don’t know what to do about these people. There really is no way to reach them, as they seem to live in some sort of simulacrum universe where nothing is entirely real, and where consequences don’t exist. They don’t think beyond themselves, and they don’t consider other people except with regard to how other people affect their own lives. Everything exists to serve them. The struggles and trials of others are the fountainhead of their fashion. Their identities are bound to real societal contributions, made by real people with real lives, and the hipsters trivialize them into meaningless etceteras. They float about in their judgmental groups, scorning the non-hipsters even as they depend upon them to supply a steady diet of culture for consumption. They take everything. They contribute nothing. They are an embarrassing brown stain upon the world’s white dress, and it makes one embarrassed to go out in public.

big-silent-bobThe funniest part about my hipster encounter the other night was when one of them began trying to pass off Kevin Smith quotes as his own. Not surprisingly, Kevin has become a sort of slacker idol to these hordes of waterheads, despite how much he talks down to them in his films. Trust me, the man is far from a slacker. He just panders to the mushbrained crowd in some sort of diabolical attempt to trick them into hating themselves. Clerks wasn’t about embracing mundanity; it was about transcending it. (Clerks 2 replayed this theme, only louder and in color, in the hopes that the audience might pay attention this time around.) Mallrats predicted the rise of the hipster from the ashes of the grunge-age slacker without passing judgment on either, but while cautioning against the latter. The hipster is the result of the dead-end of consumer culture, where postmodernism has played itself out and irony is no longer ironic. Simulation is reality, and understanding isn’t necessary. Image is everything. Fashion is personality. Flaunting consumption is the ultimate expression of self.

The Hipster Creed:
Spend. Buy. Advertise.
Be different, just like everyone else!

(Click here for part two of this essay, “Concerning the hipster situation”)




Want some books? 'Course ya do!


NOTE:  I know times are hard and yeah, I need to make a living too, but if you want to read any of my books but can't afford to buy them right now, hit me up.

I'll take care of it.


Humor | Nonfiction
Available now from the following retailers

Have you ever lived through an experience that was so humiliating that you wanted to die, but when you tell it to all your friends, they can't stop laughing?

Have you ever made a decision that seemed like a good idea at the time, but you're still living with the hilarious consequences years later?

If so, then grab a snack, get comfortable, and prepare to have all of your own poor life choices seem just a little bit more bearable.

You're welcome.

Short Stories
Available now from the following retailers

The nine stories of rage and sadness collected here range from the most intimate of human experiences to the wildest realms of magic and fantasy. The first story is a violent gut-punch to the soul, and the rest of them just hit harder from there.

Those who tough it out will find a book filled with as much hope as despair, a constant contradiction pulling you from one extreme to another.

Life might knock us down, over and over, and will the beat the ever-loving snot out of us from the time we're old enough to give it attitude until the day we finally let it win and stop getting up.

Always get back up.

Gaming | Nonfiction
Available now from the following retailers

This isn't just a book. It's a portal to other worlds where there be magic and dragons and hilarious pirates. Okay, not really. But this book is about those portals, except they're called video games.

The Life Bytes series of books take a deep dive into one man's personal journey through childhood into kinda/sorta being a responsible, competent adult as told through the magical lens of whatever video games he was playing at the time.

Part One starts way back in 1975 and meanders down various digital pathways until, oh, around about 1993 or so.

If you're feeling nostalgic for the early days of gaming or if you just want to understand why the gamer in your life loves this hobby so much, take a seat in your favorite comfy chair and crack this bad boy open.

I'll try to not be boring.

Horror
Available now from the following retailers

What you are about to read is not a story. There is no beginning, middle, or end.

What follows is nothing more than a series of journal entries involving shadow people, sleep paralysis, and crippling fear. It’s not pretty, it doesn’t follow story logic, and nothing works out well in the end.

You've been warned.

16 Comments on “The Rise Of The Brand-Name Beatnik

  1. You must be getting old. I'm sure it was the same in you're day and I'm sure that they all don't talk about the same thing. Hopefully menopause will go easy on you for a while so you can relax, lay back, and take that stick out of your ass. Every generation is the same as the last. Every generation is trying to be different while all looking the same. Thats why there are distinct "looks" of each generation. You, ma'am are a wound up bitch. May I ask what you wear?

    • How do you even know that the author is a woman? Kristian Bland sounds male to me.

  2. wow congratulations on boring me with your repetitiveness on how bad hipsters smell as well as pissing me off by your gross generalization of hipsters. You ran into 3 people who you thought fit the description of a hipster and decided that we are all worthless, WoW playing, no bathing, lack of substance conversationalists. Way to go. If you thought they were so bad why didn’t you leave? Nobody was making you sit and listen to what they were saying.

  3. wow, im guessing your in your early thirties. things have changed my good friend. the scene you were in as a teenager to early twenties is long gone and is replaced, just like it has for the last fifty years. im sure when you were a youngster your self, people your age now were saying the same exact thing about you. no point in ranting. not going to change what happens to every generation.

    • You’re right (pay close attention to that first word). Things HAVE changed. Punctuation, for instance, is now optional.

  4. Kids talking about pop culture is okay. Kids trying to discover themselves through fashion is okay. Generational change is okay.

    Gonzo writing, which I think you’re aiming for, is not all about being angry and cynical and bashing other people. Just relax and stop resenting these kids for their lifestyle.

  5. Yeah, I guess that’s hipster?
    Or just plain obnoxious. And what if this isn’t hipster, but video-game junkie? Because that’s what it sounds like to me.

    How old were these kids, anyway?

  6. I found your blog very interesting yes, but in some ways insulting.

    1.Yes hipsters are annoying with their cliques, with their ‘harsh’ stares, and they do need everybody else to survive.
    2.But the kids you described to the general audience sound like teenage wannabe’s, or ‘beatniks’

    I myself am a teenager, and I’m not going to bore you with my whole back story, but I’ve had stupid conversations as that because well that’s what I’m generally interested in. But I do no pain, I do know love, and I do know what it’s like to persevere, and I take personal hygiene very highly if I do say so myself…And I’m a college student

  7. You should look up the song Admit it by the band Say Anything. Really, it supports this article completely 🙂

  8. Not all hipsters are how you described the, some are genuinely unique. Of course there are those who make hipsters look vapid and vain and turn it mainstream. Buying, advertising and stealing from pop culture are not the only things hipsters do. They read very good literature and try to find meaning in it just as they try to find meaning in everyday life just like you and every other person in the world. The picture you put of a hipster is actually a picture of how Miley Cyrus used to dress when she was twelve. Yes there are some hipsters that don’t shower just as there are Punks and Hippies that don’t shower either. Everyone is entitled to their own style and you are acting no better than them by criticizing them. I agree the it is stupid that hipsters say they are against pop culture when they borrow from what used to be pop culture but remember not all of them do. Hating hipsters is like hating Hippies because they don’t shower and wear paisley printed clothes, its a generalization. And what do you know of anyone else’s personal struggles? You say they know nothing of love or perseverance but there are all kinds of love (not just romantic) People face tough situations they must persevere through everyday even though they are more fortunate than most people in the world it doesn’t mean they haven’t suffered. Rich and famous people commit suicide all the time because they can’t handle life anymore even though their life might seem perfect. Don’t judge people for their personal style or lifestyle choices. As long as you are happy with the way you are and they are happy with the way they are then there shouldn’t be a problem. No Judgements just love.

  9. I’m sorry that they didn’t speak “old people talk.”

  10. Don’t mind the crazy commenting on a 3 year-old article…
    This was quite a smart article. I enjoyed its mix of playful hyperbole and social commentary immensely. I chanced upon it Googling “Hipster” because someone mentioned it, and I was clueless. I assumed it was just a cutesy way of saying someone who is/wants to be hip/cool. However, I might suggest that what you call a Hipster may only be a Hipster to you…meaning the people you call Hipsters might consider themselves just plain old geeks considering their conversation. The article is still very entertaining and will be shared, but let’s face it video games and District 9 are both very mainstream and very geeky. If they were talking about things like Holly Golightly’s new CD and “π” then maybe you could call them anti-mainstream types. A Neo Nazi wearing plastic framed glasses and chunky bracelets is still a Neo Nazi. The Nazism just might supersede clothing and hygiene choices in their universe. I have plastic glasses and a couple shirts with stripes. In fact I sometimes wear them together…sometimes even with Converse sneakers; however, I am no Hipster just a completely out of the loop, near-sighted, 27 year-old lady with low arches.
    You obviously pissed off some spoiled-brat e-kids, so you’re okay by me!

  11. Ummm…
    I don’t really know what to say. For homecoming week at my highschool (ima freshman) each day is a different theme. Today was cozy day (pjs and sweats), tomorrow is hipster day, then cowboy day, then old grade school day, and finally neon. I wasn’t exactly sure what a hipster is and from what I understand is its someone who has a unique vintagish sense of style. Well I think its hilarious that people of all ages read this and comment.
    Oh, and the comment above ^ mine says there are a bunch of “spoiled-brat e-kids” Uh, I am not spoiled, not a brat, not an “e-kid” (who uses that phrase anymore?!?) so that was a little rude. I’m sorry I just found this all interesting. K well bye.