Gold. Werner Herzog reads hipster favorite Go The F☁ck To Sleep at LIVE from NYPL. And 5 ½ more Werner Herzog gems.
Why, exactly, is this a “hipster” favorite? What distinguishes this from subversive children’s literature throughout the decades, from Dr. Seuss’ underground side-projects to Shel Silverstein? Does the back of the book instruct the reader to grow ironic facial hair and buy PBR tallboys at whatever momentarily trendy dive bar? Are there pictures of guys in Daisy Dukes and drunk young women in Native American headdresses? Does the narrator append “GET IT?!” to the end of every page?
“So I says to him, I says, “That’s what I’m talking about. That’s exactly what I just said, and I told you this not one minute ago.” So he says to me, he says, “What are you talking about?” He says, “What? What does that even mean? What is this conversation about? Why are we talking about this? What are we even saying anymore?” So I says to him, I says, “I’m talking exactly about what we’re talking about, how I was telling you about this a minute ago, and I was telling you that this, what we’re talking about, is what we’re talking about. I’m talking about us talking about what we’re talking about, and what we’re talking about is and has been talking about us talking about what we’re talking about.” Then his head blew up, so I paid for our cappuccinos and went to the Aster.”
— Christian Fredrickson, What We Talk About When We Talk About What We’re Talking About
Another Saga of Anti-Commercialism
I’m still trying to get off of various calendars’ mailing lists. The previous tenants of this apartment subscribed to at least 30 (no exaggeration) different catalogs, and I’ve gotten over half of those canceled but some outlets either believe strongly in the worth of their goods or don’t give a rat’s ass about my wishes to be unmolested by their crap. Either way, they’re ignoring legal requests to be removed from their damned mailing lists.
If you have a similar problem, I recommend starting a free account with Catalog Choice. They can put in the request for you, or they’ll provide you the e-mail/phone number you need to do it yourself.
What’s surprising to me, now, is how many companies own other companies; or, more accurately, how many companies feel the need to rebrand themselves with divisions and alternative outlets. For instance, I knew the GAP owned Old Navy, but I didn’t know they were aligned with Banana Republic, and tonight I learned they’re also running Athleta (I have no need for featureless yoga outfits).
Similarly, when I called to get off Free People’s stupid and hypocritical mailing list, I learned they were a division of that art-thieving hipster headquarters, Urban Outfitters. It’s like they don’t even care what the hell they’re selling: they just want to sell crap to everybody. If you don’t want their silk-screened sweatshop mass-produced “counter culture” shirts and sweater sets, maybe your inner uneducated tree-hugger would like to purchase artificial indigenous-esque artifacts and accessories from exploited third-world nations? Hail the conquering tribe.
I hadn’t even heard of this trend until I read a well-composed decrying of it. It seems that hipsters, always grabbing and appropriating things without context or understanding, are starting to explore racism. But when asked to perhaps not be so racist, they instead defend their right to be uneducated assholes. Hipster girls have taken to coöpting the headdress, the sacred, male-only cultural artifact of many Native American tribes, because they think it’s “pretty.” So, hail the conquering tribe: white girls don’t see any problem with pillaging a minority culture for the sake of shallow fashion trends and getting drunk with friends. And they wonder why they’re so unlikable…
I really like this look. These knee-high boots (engineer, aviator, elf-ranger, &c.) came into fashion a few years ago and haven’t gone away, which makes my heart glad. And I love wool stockings/leggings.
There was a time when I would’ve bemoaned about being born too late, but girls were hot when I was young, too, and I was too shy to do anything about it then. It wouldn’t make any difference now.
