Hipsters Need to Stop It. At Once.

I read this article yesterday, and although there's not a clear conclusion reached in the story, I have reached several conclusions of my own:

1. Hipsters and grups need to go away. No one likes you but your own kind. No one "gets" you but your own kind, and not in that "they don't get me because I'm too cool for them" kind of way. It's more like a "why is that 39-year-old dressed like me in junior high?" kind of way.

2. Okay, maybe I am sort of jealous that I can't afford a $600 messenger bag and that although I know what Arcade Fire are, I probably couldn't pick their song out of a lineup that includes Hot Hot Heat, the Walkmen, and Interpol.

3. Adam Sternbergh sure tried his damnedest to make this a good story. My favorite quote, about a hipster dad beating his own ideals into his children's heads before they're old enough to speak:

Sorry, son. No more Thomas the Tank Engine for you. Thomas sucks. Stop crying. Daddy's helping you develop an aesthetic.

4. Hipsters and grups are everything I find distasteful about my ex-boyfriend, Manhattan nightclubs, and the gossip queens in my high school rolled into one: They're loud and messianic about their music, they're unjustifiably exclusive when it comes to who to let into their circle, and they snark about what everyone else is doing in New York, America, and the world but put their friends on tall, tall pedestals that are beyond the reach of criticism.

5. I'd like to do something I'm passionate about, too. Except I have rent to pay and no trust fund.