The New Hipster Has a Title Becoming of His Exceptional Self

 

Whereas the original hipsters defined by Norman Mailer were rakish to the point of being devilish sociopaths, the new hipster was a different beast altogether. Zevon pointed me toward role models for today’s new and improved hipster, including of course our eloquent President, who of course is not only beloved; he is the embodiment of Benevolence and Wisdom. He is, rhetorically speaking, eloquent, rhapsodic, and mellifluous. He represents the new saintly incarnation of the hipster.

Of course, Zevon explained, it would be unrealistic of me to aspire to the grandeur of that Exceptional Human Being. However, the standards for being a hipster were rigorous and I would have to elevate myself if my hipster makeover was to be a successful one.

“The first thing you need,” Zevon explained to me over a lunch of fava bean agnolettie with curry emulsion, “is a title. The new hipster brands himself as a relevant, vital member of society. Do you have a title?”

“I’m a community college English instructor. Snazzy enough?”

“Frumpy.”

“But that’s what I am.”

Zevon shook his head. “That simply won’t do. You’ll need to change your title as soon as possible.”

He gave me a list to choose from. My job was to take a title that was close to my credentials and then work on adapting to the title so that it wasn’t an outright lie. The list was a rather daunting one.

 

Hipster Title #1: Futurist. According to Global Future Report, a futurist analyzes global trends and then explains how this trends will pan out over a period between 5-50 years. It’s important to note that a futurist does not predict the future, the way a prophet or seer might. He projects it. His uses science, not the supernatural. For example, some futurists, like Dan Koeppel, noted Popular Science journalist and author of Banana: The Fate of the Fruit That Changed the World, warns that forces are at work, such as fungal and bacterial infection, to make my most favorite fruit, the banana, an extinct commodity within the very near future.

What future trends did my powers of analysis afford me? I saw the demise of the movie theater, but I could not guarantee it. I saw famine and drought afflicting our poor planet. But truthfully I saw more of the same—idiots in high positions, incompetence ruling the day, lame, stupid ideas winning the hearts and souls of the masses, like nonfat potato chips and “diet” chocolate fudge cake. I am no futurist. For me, life is a repetitive, monotonous cycle. Humans do not learn from their mistakes. They repeat them over and over. This belief is echoed in a favorite passage of mine from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby in which the narrator writes, “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

Zevon admonished me for being a sour pessimist. Hipsters are optimists, he explained. They believe in change. They have faith in man’s free will, his creativity, and his problem-solving, and his essential goodness. Hipsters champion goodness. They are the good guy. Therefore, I must be very, very bad.

 

Hipster Title #2: Pioneer of an Eco-Friendly Institute or Center. Hipsters are always founding noble establishments that consolidate the energies of other hipsters and create a synergistic effect. They may buy an island, like Johnny Depp or Marlon Brando, and convert it into an alternative energy eco-friendly hotel similar to The Brando in Tahiti. They might develop an animal sanctuary that runs on solar hydrogen and carbon free fuel. They might, like Ed Begley, become a guru of “Eco-Conscious Living” and sell a line of multi-purpose biodegradable cleanser called Begley’s Bestä.

Clearly, this title is for celebrities, people with deep pockets. I can recycle, I can compost, I can ride a bicycle to work, I can bring reusable canvas bags to the grocery store, I can turn off the lights in the house when I’m not using them, I can buy bleach-free toilet paper, but none of these qualify me as a “pioneer.” Or even a hipster, for that matter.

 

Hipster Title #3: Auteur. Most filmmakers are beholden to their producers and the studio, but the auteur, like Paul Thomas Anderson, stays true to his personal vision. In this digital age, any “smart thinking person” should be able to put together a documentary that chronicles his personal vision and says something poignant about the human condition or, even better, shows the triumph of a transformed life born from the muck of excruciating pain and suffering.  Or he may reveal a conspiracy in some earth-shattering exposé. Many short documentaries had become sensations on YouTube, launching the careers of their makers who would eventually become hipsters. But it seemed unlikely I could follow this path. I still didn’t know how to use my wife’s digital camera.

 

Hipster Title #4: Benevolent Novelist. One of our generations most celebrated hipsters, David Eggers, fits this title to a tee. Best-selling author, owner of his own publishing company that specializes in publishing alternative voices of other hipsters, and founder of 826 Valencia, a center for building the literacy of children ages six to eighteen, Eggers is the consummate New Saintly Hipster. Not surprisingly, his wife has one of the most mellifluous hipster names imaginable—Vendela Vida. Her name is not earthly enough for a regular human being. Rather, it seems designated for a Supernatural Earth Mother, or the title of some ancient Holy Book that chronicles how a group of suffering people found relief when, inexplicably, their barren land was showered with Manna from Heaven. It is no surprise that she and her husband enjoy a luminescent halo over their heads everywhere they go.

But I explained to Zevon there will be no halo for me. I am neither benevolent. Nor am I a novelist. So molding my life after David Eggers seemed rather unrealistic at this point. Frankly, I was growing more and ore hopeless and I read Zevon’s list with growing wariness.

 

Hipster Title #5: Fashionista. Being at the height of fashion was once grotesque, a sign of snobbery and affectation that the good, regular people wanted no part of. But then, Zevon explained to me, American popular culture was influenced by the likes of Stacy London and Clinton Kelly on What Not to Wear, a good-hearted makeover show in which the two fashion consultants gently but firmly steer their misguided guests in the right fashion direction. Helping people mired in their ugly clothing and their low self-esteem essentially makes being a Fashionista an act of magnanimous social activism rather than snobbish social elitism.

That’s all fine and good. But owing to my burly, peasant body structure, the best I can do in the fashion department is minimize my hulking presence with properly fitting shirts and pants. But I would never be mistaken for a fashion consultant. My inner thighs were still chafed by my failed experiment in which I wore $200 designer jeans in an ice cold bath. People would be better served looking at my wardrobe and making an attempt to not look like me. That is the only kind of “consult” I am worthy of.

 

Hipster Title #6: Globalist. Zevon made it clear from the beginning that a Globalist is one of those terms that is so nebulous that I might just get away with calling myself this.

“Surely, it means something,” I said.

“That’s actually under debate,” Zevon explained. “But it appears to involve the ability to synthesize international trends, economics, weather forecasting, anthropology, infrastructure, military power, and environment, and the spread of satellite television.”

“So basically I’ll have to go back to college and get five more degrees. Fifteen years later with an oxygen tank strapped to my back I can call myself a Globalist. No thank you.”

 

Hipster Title #7: Innovator. This term is distinct from “inventor,” which has the negative connotation of the lonely man in his garage putting together a radio kit together he bought at Radio Shack. The Innovator on the other hand is a pioneer of cutting-edge technology. Zevon provided the example of Drew Endy, a synthetic biologist from Stanford. He is currently working on developing luminescent grass, mine-detecting shrubs, and gourds that can be engineered so that they can grow into pieces of furniture and even huge structures that can be lived in as custom houses.

Who did Zevon think I was, Willy Wonka? Dr. Doolittle? Caractacus Potts, the inventor from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang?  

 

Hipster Title #8: Spiritual Iconoclast. This title is embodied by none better than Deepak Chopra, a self-described spiritual leader who says in interviews that he doesn’t wear a watch, that he has no concept of time, that he does not age, that he does not know how old he is, that he does not get sick, and implies that human beings, with him as the exception, languish through Planet Earth with artificial thoughts that impede them from connecting with the Divine Within. In order to follow Chopra’s footsteps, I would have to have my own “Center” or “Institute” where I would give such iconoclastic instruction. I explained to Zevon that I love watches, I am obsessed with my age, even have nightmares about growing old, and that I get sick once or twice a year in spite of getting a flu shot. A spiritual iconoclast I am not.

 Hipster Title #9: Celebrity Blogger.  Making several posts throughout the day that brand me as a political gadfly, a fashion expert, or a futurist, I could get tens of thousands of hits a day and become a high-profile Blogger. I explained to Zevon that I have a blog and that I post my favorite indie bands, electronic products, watches, and social commentary and that after three years I average 500 hits a day. And for that I should feel fortunate. To prove my point, I then referred him to CYBERJOURNAL.NET, which provides the sobering news: There are over 100 million blogs. The blogosphere doubles every 6 and a half months. There are 175,000 new blogs created each day. There are 2 new blogs created every second. There are 1.6 million blog posts per day. There are 18.6 blog posts per second. Becoming a Blogger is not about “celebrity.” It’s about going out of your way to make yourself more obscure than you already are. 

Hipster Title #10: Philanthropist. I could increase my hipster cachet, Zevon explained, by starting a foundation dedicated to giving money and strategic aid in the areas of health, education, and the arts. But as I looked at the list of prominent philanthropists, I noticed they were CEOs and the like. I do give regularly to Rover Rescue, the dog adoption agency where I found my dog Gretchen and I do give a modest sum of money to my two local NPR radio stations. But these donations would hardly put me on the cover of Philanthropy News Digest, Bloomberg Wealth Manager, or Journal of Financial Planning. 

I explained to Zevon that I was doomed to be a schlub with all the hipster glory of a potato bug. I then got up from his kitchen and told him I was going back to my cave in Torrance where I belonged. 

Comments

[Mike W]

That Deepak Chopra certainly does keep both hands firmly on the shovel, doesn't he?

[jeffrey McMahon]

He is one of the smoothest, smartest BS artists I've ever heard.

I'd say he's twice as smart as I am. I wonder if he believes in what he says or is he cynical or a mixture. Probably one complex dude, and a rich one at that.

He's effective because what he says is rooted in truth, but that doesn't mean he's completely true by any means.

[Mike W]

Yup, as smooth as one of those cow patties that Indian farmers' wives cook with. As for the "smart" part, you may be giving the man more credit than is due. "Verbose", maybe.

[jeffrey McMahon]

Perhaps I suffer from a narrow definition of "smart," which includes someone's ability to make more money than I do.