Thursday, September 23, 2010

Sign of the Contradiction: Hipster Culture

This is the second main project we are doing for concepts. We had to create our own versions of the zodiac sign for the 21st century. Naturally, I selected Hipster Culture as mine, which has evolved into the Sign of Contradiction.


New Blog Entry:

Your Drunken Stepfather

Feeling listless today. This morning – after waking up in a mate’s flat between two satisfied individuals – I find myself exploring the boundaries of imperial intellect upon the modern man; more importantly, on a cultural prodigy like myself. As I stare down at my vegan, non-fat latte, I can’t help but to question the esoteric meaning of life? Am I the yin to the yang? Am I saving lives? Were these 250 dollar distressed leather boots worth it? Listening to Pitchfork’s top ten, my head is filled with so many disturbing inquiries and regrets; yet, I find solace in the understanding that I am my own individual, unlike the sheep around me. Invading my cafĂ©, they are simpletons: cookie-cutter, faceless, mass-media zombies scrambling to find significance in their mundane lives. Alas, their prosaic demeanor hurts my eyes; a godsend, my horn-rimmed sunglasses punctuate the unbearable distain. As I indulge in this savory brew, I cannot help but to pity them. Sitting here, transcribing my thoughts, I question their livelihood. Where is their individuality? These people yearn for enlightenment; to be shown that life extends beyond materiality, beyond the idolized propaganda flaunted by corrupt multibillion-dollar companies. They must be awakened to their true individual selves. Why can they not see that they will find what they are looking for, if only they dwell into their subconscious? The blissful ignorance is appalling! Cannot they not see how much more fulfilled their lives would be free from the mainstream? An individual would learn so much by only taking notice of my conduct as a nonconformist, and understand that through my rejection of the media, I produce culture. Searching through my vintage cardigan for a hand rolled cigarette, I venture to ask: How do I save these people from their unsubstantiated tethers? Furthermore, is it my responsibility to save them? As someone so culturally and intellectually aware, it must be – If I don’t, who will? I must become like Jesus, bringing forth a new age of ideas. Digesting my breakfast, this is not how I intended to spend my day, but the notion has a certain je ne sais quoi about it. After all, I have always held the notion of giving back to those who are less fortunate.


Sent from Iphone.

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