By Katie McHugh
On March 4, hipsters and hipster sympathizers everywhere united for “a day of peace” much to the annoyance of normal people, cool people and people who properly capitalize words.
They want to create as big an impact as possible with their noble goal of “making the world a little more bearable.”
Yes, the glorious goal of not going out of one’s way to trip someone or make fun of them is indeed laudable and the whole world should hail.
Who do hipsters think they are?
Are they just always this miserable?
Why do they have to inflict well-balanced people with their lame and solipsistic philosophizing?
Here are their three rules guaranteed to better the plight of man:
“Say not a single unkind thing about anyone or anything. If at all possible, try not to even think a nasty thought. If we do, reflect on why it was that we thought to say it in the first place.”
Listen, if I refrained from thinking unkind or unpleasant thoughts, I’d have no brain activity beyond that of a comatose slug.
My flaws are clear to me and so are other people’s.
Is it a crime to notice?
Politically incorrect jokes make me laugh.
But I guess I’ll have to sober up and take life more seriously, like a hipster.
Those people are obviously the epitome of clearheaded, somber stoicism.
“Show everyone we cross paths with some genuine human compassion. Be it with a smile or kind words, just spread some love.”
Yeah, I think I’ll skip smiling cheerily at the creep leering at me from across McKinley’s and the driver who almost runs me over at the crosswalk.
“Make not one person the exception to the rule. Not everyone deserves to have roses thrown at their feet and have a holiday in their honor, but nobody deserves to feel alone. Reach out. Talk to someone new. Care about them, and we will be cared for in return.”
Maybe you guys haven’t heard, but no one owes anyone anything.
So some people feel lonely.
That’s so sad!
Maybe we could “raise awareness” for them and their sadness.
Let’s have “a day of sadness” in which we march down Brooks walk crying quietly to ourselves while listening to Spoon.
Fortunately, the internet has its fair share of people like me, who are comfortable with the hatred embedded deep in the fiber of their being.
“A day of hate” was held in our honor. The introduction to the day of hate reads as follows:
“I have an idea for a day of war. a day where everyone just hates everyone else and kills each other. a day where we ignore any instilled moral values and go primal on everyone’s ass.”
Tell me more!
“Call everyone rude names and use every obscene word you know… often.”
Sounds like a normal day to me so far…how “ironic.”
“Fight. A lot. Use nunchuks, swords, hammers, slingshots, whatever. Just try to make everyone bleed all over the place. I’m too lazy to go make more rules. FUCK the ‘a day of peace’ event going around. We’re humans, dammit, and we aren’t made to be accepting.”
That’s right. I celebrated “a day of hate” by doing what I always do: not wearing 80’s style glasses, listening to bands people have heard of, not having enough money to buy a MacBook but enough to buy normal shoes, and just enjoying my life as an element of the anti-hipster portion of healthy society.