Fragments #107

Friday, January 14, 2011

A certain Canadian says I am a hippie. If it were true, I would not deny it, but I’m not. Yes, I am into good music, kindness and compassion to your fellow man, but hippies aren’t. They are into dull music, embarrassing dancing, bourgeois self-indulgence, hedonism and phony platitudes about not being negative. Some people need to be told to fuck themselves, and I don’t like that most hippies can’t do that. Besides they are often the very ones who need to fuck themselves.

Worst of all is the way they dress. I like style, some flash, some sexy. Yeah, hippies suck at that. So, imagine my horror when I was in Tennessee and I walked out of a store to find I had bought fricken straight-up hippie, bell-bottom, low-rise jeans. I also ended up with hipster skinny jeans, but that is better than that bell-bottom horror, style wise. (They both were cheap and I am broke, hence shopping in Knoxville rather than at home in New York.) But I did discover that the hippie jeans have something over the skinnys. They are made with a soft, breathable fabric you can sleep in, which makes sense for a stoned, dirty hippie, sleeping in his jeans for three days. And sometimes I sleep in my jeans. So, sue me, I like the jeans, but those fucking bell-bottoms need to go.

Strategy of Numbers, a novel by Clint Irwin, get it here or on amazon