Saturday, September 10, 2011

MAXED OUT: freaking hipsters

Work schedule and recent events here in San Diego have thrown off our blogging just a bit. We'll be getting caught up over the weekend on some stuff and to help us do it, here's Brother Max on beer and some culture-watching.

'Sup my faithful flock of froth fanatics? Welcome back to my house
and thanks for joining. Today I am going to wax poetic on hipsters
and their affinity for beer and why it pisses me off/makes me laugh.
Be forewarned, if you are a hipster you will not like this/love it.
BOOM! Lets kick start this juke joint.

hip-ster -noun, Slang
1. person who is hip
2. hepcat

Hipsters are a subculture of men and women typically in their 20’s and
30’s that value independent thinking, counter-culture, progressive
politics, an appreciation of art and indie-rock, creativity,
intelligence, and witty banter.

I’m not gonna lie, I was kinda hoping that urban dictionary was going
to blast hipsters a little more than they did. Oh well. The ironic
thing here is that I fall into this group of people, although I think
I’m very much on the fringe. So why put a group on blast that I can
be lumped into? Don’t worry baby birds, daddy’s gonna feed ya.

So the joke goes something like “I knew about that band before they
even existed.” Hipsters are kinda known for their silly mustaches (I
used to have one,) their vests (I own several,) their skinny jeans
(not really my thing,) and riding their fixed gear bicycles (not for
me.) They’re known for knowing about things before they become main
stream. And I don’t know if you’ve caught on yet, but craft beer is
becoming main stream. DAMN YOU HIPSTERS!

Ok, so the main reason that hipsters, and I’m talkin’ the hipster
hipsters. The hipsters that know they are hipsters and revel in it.
Those hipsters. The main reason that hipsters upset me slightly is
because for the past several years I have listened to them talk about
how much they consume, love, and know about beer. Then this skinny
jean, newsboy hat sportin’ dill weeds go to the bar and order Pabst
Blue Ribbon. EVERY TIME! It drives me absolutely batty. Don’t get
me wrong, PBR on a hot day at the beach or at a park is totally fine
by me. But when you go to a place that has good to great beer on
draft or in the bottle I’m sorry, PBR is NOT ok.

I really don’t have a whole lot more to say about the situation, and
I’m sure Demo is going to put me on blast in the editor’s note but I
just had to get this off of my chest. Hipsters please, take your PBR
and enjoy it, just don’t put your stupid faces anywhere near my
beautiful craft beer. You’re giving it a bad name. Oh, and shave
your stupid little mustaches. They look silly. No, really. They
look silly.

Until next time my beer loving brethren, have a beer for me.

(ed. note: Blast? Us? Must be thinking of someone else. We have touched on this subject before with respect to hipsters and the beer scene here in San Diego in which they reside: San Diego's many fine beer establishments tread a fine line between geekery and snobishness. It's great to be totally geeked-out over your beer but it's totally not cool to have a condescending attitude towards anyone who thinks they're getting their hop on for cracking into a Shock Top Belgian White or some other such similar poser micro-brew. It's all about education and it's all about the love.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I > U