Hipsters In Our Midst

_ Swarms of hipsters have taken to the streets today, Bob, in an effort to garner support for their cause, skinny jeans be damned.

_ Bob? Bobby ain't here. Hipsters?... What's next? The sky is goo? What's a hipster?

_ So many questions... Relax a little; it's just life on Planet Earth. Hipsters, youthful meanderers who've taken to the streets, trying out their Converse All-Stars without training wheels for the first time. Some critics say that hipsters are, " ... little more than claymation dream jiz."
It could well be that this is the essential, potential nightmare for all things breathing.

_ Hipsters?

_ That's correct. The language that they speak is rooted deep within hip, clipped abbreviations; men are brooding; women unaware... incomplete.

_ Hipster women are incomplete?

_ No, not really. It's just the insistent 'vox cranial', an intentional product of the successful marketing and selling of the strange, yet familiar concept of 'lacking', for want of a better word. The hipsters speak... something's missing... hmmm...

_ And? And!? What is it they say?

_ What is heard is little more than the gussied up fodder of days gone by; murmurings of youth on the run... a very leisurely paced run, but a run nonetheless. They'll simmer down once they realize it's time to establish credit.

_ Fermentations...

_ What?

_ They - hipsters - are fermentations. You, me, them... all fermentations. And to be torn apart from our timeless essence by a soon-to-be genetically induced predisposition to a smaller and smaller span of attention? The hipsters better get a camera. With a small aperture.

_ Consider it done.

_ Oh well...

_ Hipsters... I kid you not... They'll learn... they'll learn...

_ We haven't.

_ We haven't? What are you talking about? I get a new credit card offer at least twice a week.

_ How about that old son of a gun the Sun? It's outside; yet the journey is within. Balderdash! It's inside and the journey is without. Now then... Howsaboy? Fhat the wuck! Whatever... Leave the streets to the hipsters. Perhaps they'll clean up the mess we've made, although latent tendencies towards laziness and sloth will eventually kick in and things will be even more of a mess. Eat, drink and be merry.

_ The reality is...

_ Whoa, Nellie! Hold that thought. This just in: Swarms of hipsters have taken to the streets today in an effort to be seen as existing outside the gurgle of the ferment. They do not mind saying that they have been influenced by their own kind; they shall forever exist outside the reach of the far-reaching claw of history. Now... What were you saying?

_ You're a bitter man.

_ I'm not everyone's cup of tea. But, then again. neither is chai.

_ It takes all types....

_ Are you still here? Fabulous. Chai?

_ If you are, I am. Still here. The strangely familiar concept of lacking would make it appear that I am waiting, but I'm not. Yes. Yes. I'll have chai.

                                                                       ************

... The strangely familiar sound of sound; space a taut eardrum. Is that waiting?

.... Harijans clamoring.

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