Are you a Hipster...or a Douche?

hipster [ˈhɪpstə]

n

1. (Music) Slang, now rare.

a. an enthusiast of modern jazz.

b. an outmoded word for hippy.

2. (Clothing & Fashion) (modifier) (of trousers) cut so that the top encircles the hips.

One day, whilst drinking a nice cold alcoholic beverage in Shoreditch, I noticed a lot of people suddenly wearing black plastic framed glasses. Then I noticed that many of these people did not appear to be wearing any prescription lenses in said glasses. This bothered me for some reason. What business is it of mine? I decided that it was totally my business as I must share oxygen with these people, and so do you! Why would someone want to use eyeglasses as a fashion accessory? It seemed, at the very least, utterly pointless and strange. At the very most it was pretentious and outright ridiculous! This must be an insult to the optically challenged at the very least. I asked my next door bar stool neighbor what this person thought they were doing and his reply was,

“It's only a Shoreditch Twat hipster, ignore em!”

So I decided to do the opposite, I talked to him. And, then I talked to someone else. And, then I talked to about a dozen people and decided I needed to know more.

In researching what a hipster is, I did my usual homework. I read Wikipedia, a few articles and blogs and at that point the textual research portion of my research reached it's conclusion. I needed to get out there and talk to the people, the humanoids, the so-called hipster on the street, and get their point of view. So I went to Camden and Hoxton and I talked to everyone who I perceived to fill the profile of the hipster.

I'm well aware of the type, as I have come across the Toronto hipster before. I'm from Toronto by the by, and the London animal, though a very breed, from the outside anyway, is not quite the same. They look the same, sure, they are sporting the same Buddy Holly glasses, with or without prescriptions, and they painstakingly attempt to look effortlessly hip and cool. Some succeed and some do not. Almost always in Toronto, the hipster lives on the fringe of what one might call, polite society. I understand these people. They are the cooks, the bartenders, the musicians, the barista, the downtown shop worker, the tattoo artist and so on. I am these people!

I for some time thought that I might be a hipster myself. I am a very struggling writer of fiction. I have no profession as such to speak of, unless you happen to count penniless under-published writer who jumps from job to job like a mercenary. I have Sailor Jerry tattoos. I play guitar. I wear black Chuck Taylor all-stars, black jeans and white t-shirts. The evidence was starting to pile up and I was getting afraid, very afraid! All of these things, in Toronto, would qualify me, perhaps, to be a counterculture-esque person, what I thought to be the elusive hipster. But here...the similarities began to end.

I like rock and roll, rockabilly and various other kinds of music. But, I feel that the Hipster is not a Rockabilly and vice-versa. Some may blur the line and have a baby toe in both worlds, but the true London hipster, or what the current definition of a hipster is, is a completely different animal.

For one, London hipsters care about fashion. They really do. They check the magazines for the latest rends, be it clothing or haircut. They “buy” what the hipster establishment is selling, all while attempting to pass off being anti-establishment with a cheeky holier than though douche-baggery.

The word hipster, as I stated at the beginning of this article, comes from a time and place in history and has a meaning. The current hipster, though they would not claim to be one, are stealing the meaning of this word. I think that the word hipster is a cool word that should only be used for people who really deserve it.

If you live with your parents...you are not a hipster! If you work in “the city” during the day and cos-play rockabilly at night, you are not a hipster! Just because you have a look that may associate you with a certain subculture, you are not necessarily a card carrying member. There is a word for someone who dresses as something they are not. That word is “poser”. If you do not live it, you are wearing a costume. If you dress like Dracula at Halloween, that does not make you undead! So if you are a hipster based solely on your look, you are not one.

Friends who are musicians and poor writers and artists and political activists and cooks, people who do not read fashion blogs or care what David Beckhams new hairstyle looks like. You're posers kids. Get your mum to buy all the Ramones t-shirts and skinny jeans you like, but it won't be any good. We can spot you in a crowd and we know who you are! The real people, who don't have a name, but live it everyday, they see you!

Nippon gambatte! (Good luck Japan)

It's in times like these that I wish I believed in God. That way maybe there would be something he could do to help. I wish I had any faith in religion, but I don't. I do have faith in people though, and it's people we are going to need now!

I will not write an inane article this week, about some little silly London adventure of mine. I wish to change gears a little and quickly talk about my home away from home, the place that I grew up as an adult, that place is Japan. As my online nickname may suggest, I am a lover of the country and people of Japan. I lived in Fukushima and Tokyo for almost four years from the age of 22, up until I was almost 27. These were formative years for me and I feel like I really became the person that I am today through my many good and bad experiences living and learning in Japan. I still have many close friends in Japan and this has broken my heart more that I can possibly communicate through mere words. They seem cheap and hollow as I write them, but feel I must, if only for my own sanity. I am generally not the kind of guy who can really talk about such things, so this is a little strange for me and a kind of therapy as well. I have the same sort of feeling I had as I sat horrified and watched planes crashing into buildings in New York on live television as I sat helpless in my Tokyo apartment.


I can only wish my friends, and all of the people of Japan for that matter, nothing but strength, courage and fortitude in this time of national disaster. Of course, these are all traits that the Japanese people have in great abundance, and I have no doubt they will show amazing resilience and bravery en masse. I can only imagine what it must be like for them right now living through this nightmare.

I read online the names of towns, cities and villages where I have been and have so many wonderful memories of and I wonder if the nice lady who I talked to at that izakaya in Izuwakamatsu is going to suffer the effects of radiation poisoning. Is my friend Adam, a teacher in Sendai, still alive? Are my old friends in Tokyo alright? These are only some of them!

I did hear from one friend who is from Iwate Prefecture and lives in Tokyo, he was traveling with his wife in Hiroshima at the time and therefore had no contact with the Quake or Tsunami. I was very relieved to hear that he and his family are fine and out of harms way. I really don't know what else to say except, if you are reading this and have the means to donate, do it. If you do not, please keep your thoughts and, yes, even prayers with the Japanese people. They are going to need it. We will be here to help when they need us.
I know I will be.



Be good to each other. Peace. Love.

 

      One of my tattoos I got some years ago to show love to Japan.

P.S. Negative comments about the media below.

I have one comment on the media before I continue. They are callously talking about the NIKKEI and Stock exchanges and economics of this disaster and you know what...I don't care right now! The time will come to deal with this, I realize it is a necessary evil, but people are fucking dying out there, man! I wish every stock broker and any person cashing in financially on this terrible disaster great guilt and shame, you're the one's who have to live with it!

Glastonbury for Geeks: It's World Book Night in London!

That guy gets it!

It was the first ever World Book Night in London yesterday and I was there! The plan was to give out a million books all over the UK, not just me, others helped too. This is a really cool cause that was easy to get behind as reading in London and other places less important, is not really the highest priority these days, what with the proliferation of video games, films and TV shows about singing and dancing high school students,  frozen pizza's, borderline illiterate chavy mums and dads, and well, the just plain dumbing down of civilization! This is just my opinion of course. But I digress...

The previous night in Trafalgar Square, all of us book givers gathered in a sort of Glastonbury for Geeks to bow at the feet and just have some shits and giggles with some of the authors and pseudo cause celebs who read passages from their favorite books...some quite annoyingly. It was frickin' freezin' outside but many of us were warmed by can's of beer and/or cider, and I even saw a couple in their 50's drinking out of a silver flask. That was nice. It was enough to make you be proud to be British!

     Glastonbury for Geeks or Lolapalooza for Nerds...you decide! (Not meant as an insult...I was there too!)

The event was MC'd by comic Graham Norton who was his usual fun and flamboyant self, and who did a fine job I think. Actor Rupert Everett was there, the great author John Le Carre read from The Spy Who Came in From the Cold and was great, even doing German accents for the German characters. Philip Pullman was there, as was Suggs, the lead singer from Madness for some reason.

As a person born in Canada, I was very much pleased to see Margaret Atwood there. She was charming and funny and read an entertaining piece from her novel The Blind Assassin. I must admit, I found reading Atwood's A Handmaid's Tale quite a chore in high school, but after hearing her, I realise what a piece of Canadiana she truly is.

Author David Nicholls read from his novel One Day, and it was really and truly excellent. I intend to buy this title forthwith and would encourage you to do the same! Next came our lord and master, Mayor Boris Johnson. He read a poem about a hangover that I have to say, I really liked. Now, I'm just a drunken writer but...this guy is in charge of our city, right? Should he be reading this sort of thing? Meh.
There were others there as well, but I'm afraid that some of my activities from days gone by seem to have erased the name's from my mind.

The highlight of the evening had to be when author Alan Bennett read from his novel A Life Like Other People's. It was a lovely and touching story about him and his mother that really had the entire crowd hanging on his every charming word. But this is not what I'm on about. After reading, he compared the closing of libraries in the UK to child abuse! You know what? He's not wrong and I am proud and glad that he said it. Especially since Boris Johnson and other politicians were there to hear it! Not that their cold two faced bastard politician hearts would understand. I tell you one thing friends, Mr. Alan Bennett has balls and I am now going to make sure I read every single word he has ever written. It's the least I can do!

The next day was WORLD BOOK NIGHT 2011!!!

                              Caledonian Rd. Station Art by Kim

The next night my fiance and I went to Caledonian Road Tube Station to hand out our free books to the public. The novel is called Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez as chosen by said fiance. I should add that all this was in fact her idea and I give her full and total credit as I was only her beautiful and talented assistant and thank her for getting me involved...OK, that's out of the way ;)

We arrived at about five o'clock in the evening and we just so happened to arrive at the station as Arsenal fans were coming back from their thrilling nil-nil tie with Sunderland. We began our scpeil and started to hand out the books. Many polite and learned passers by stopped to ask questions and tell us how this was such an excellent idea. Indeed. But we started to notice that no Arsenal fans took any, which we found strange. We thought that they might be skeptical about our intentions so made sure that people were aware that we were not trying to convenrt them to any religion or take their bank card details or solicit anything from them whatsoever. This did no good at all. As we discussed why this was and threw out a few jibes as the passing football fans, the Station Master informed us that it had nothing to do with us, and it's not that Arsenal fan's don't like to read, it's because "Arsenal fans can't read!" This was news to me, but I accepted his hypothesis.

The only rule of getting a book on World Book Night 2011 is that after reading it, or if for some reason you don't like the book, you simply give it away to someone else. I think it's a fair and simple rule, and considering you are receiving a free book, I hope that it what happens.

It's actually quite a neat process as we write our names and special stock number in each book, which you can then go online and checkout, this will then show where the book has been on it's travels. So, if you receive the aforementioned book sometime in the years to come, it might just have come from me.

"You're welcome!" he said smugly.

Be there next year for World Book Night 2012 or you are a jabroni!

Jump, Jive and the Hartford Wailers

 

Where is the loo sir?

                                                               Rockabilly Hairstylists


Last month, I went to a very fun event at Bloomsbury Lanes Bowling Alley in London. It was a sort of craft/music/vintage Rockabilly Hipster Fair that I really enjoyed. They served beer (Ice Cold Asahi=Awesome) and had a DJ spinning lots and lots of cool 50's Rock and or Billy, as well as 60's soul. Nothing that you could complain about, unless your a douche or bag-hole of some sort, that's right, I said bag-hole, I'm trying to invent a new "swear", but that's another story.

I had a swell time at the event and bought a Sailor Jerry tattoo flash poster of a swallow that is really cool, and incidentally I now really want inked on my bod. The rockabilly folk were decked out in their cool vintage gear and the ladies especially were cool in their 1940's era pin-up girl garb. It really is a sexy retro look and something I hope that catches on and most girls will wear this season. Unlike the look in London at the moment of wearing nylons as trousers. Its a look I don't quite understand and most people should never ever attempt to pull off.

So last night, me and the Mrs. went down to Bloomsbury Lanes again for a night out. They advertised 50's music, hula-hoop contests, free popcorn and jive dancing. Most, if none of this did not materialize. The beer was good and the Lanes were retro cool as usual but none of the advertised events happened. No popcorn, no hula-hoops, no 50's music. It was more like a regular night club with dance music blasting. We had to drink tequila and beer heavily in order to stand it. My Mrs. can attest to how much as she is bed ridden with a hangover. Thanks Bloomsbury Lanes! I recommend going to the next Rockabilly Vintage Fair as it was an amazing event, but, be weary of the event I just described. It was not as advertised and little fun for anyone over the age of thirty, though the Asahi's were still good.

Cont'd:

I wrote about Hockey Day in London last week and promised more about what happened at the event. At this point it seems anti-climactic and I don't remember much about what happened anyway. I said "Things got Canadian." All that really means is we got stupidly drunk on Canadian beer, talked about hockey, and took the piss out of the English for a while and few gloves were dropped and very little blood was spilled. A nice escape for us expat Canucks in the land of cucumber sandwiches and Real Ale and I recommend The Maple Leaf in Covent Garden. One thing, forget about the Poutine as cheese curds are illegal in the UK. Bloody Health and Safety!

Hockey Day in Canada...I mean, England!

On Sunday I headed down to the Maple Leaf Tavern or Pub, or whatever it's called, in Covent Garden, for a fun filled afternoon of Canadiana. My girlfriend was working across the street at the BAFTA Awards so it was a perfect place for me to plant my ass for a few hours filled with hosers, poutine and heavy Canuck style hockey game binge drinking. I'd not seen an entire hockey game in about a year, so I was pretty stoked about it, to say the least. The Maple Leaf was going to show three games that day, but I was mostly interested in watching my hometown Maple Leafs, the lovable losers that they are, suck for three straight stress induced heart palpitation filled periods. I do miss that twist in my stomach when I see Tomas Kaberle not take that shot on the power play, I sure miss that Czech sonofabitch!

I showed up at the pub around 3PM and the Edmonton Oilers vs. Ottawa Senators game was in the second period. The place was busy already, Canadians piled in like a can of delicious Brunswick Sardines (product placement-give me free sardines please!) I decided to sit down and enjoy a 4 quid pint of thirst quenching, crisp and clear Sleemans Honey Brown Lager (#2=free beer please!) and catch the vibe of the place.

This was the largest gathering of Canucks I'd seen in one place since setting foot in Blighty and for some reason found it a tad disconcerting. I think I'm used to the diferent Brit accents I hear in my day to day life and the sound of Canadian accents bouncing back at me was a bit too much like being at home.

I spoke to a few Canucks and we all exchanged previous addresses: Windsor, Brampton, Toronto, Markham, Victoria, Calgary and so on. I was uncomfortable at first, until the beers (Sleemans and Mooseheads #3) started to kick in...that's when things got a bit...Canadian.

To be continued: Part 2 in the next couple of days.

Pilgrimage to Macca (Anniversary of Beatles Rooftop Concert 30/01/11)

Fourty-two years ago yesterday, the Beatles played their final concert on a the rooftop of the then, Apple building, located at 3 Saville Row in London. They started playing the now famous gig at around lunchtime as office workers in the posh London area flooded onto the streets to listen.

"Holy shit" someone surely said. "That's the bleedin' Beatles!"

So, as the loyal Beatlemaniac/Geek that I am, I decided that yesterday, January 30th, I would drag my fiance into the cold, at lunchtime of course, to look at a building.

We arrived at 3 Saville Row at around noon and looked at the building for a while. Morons had defaced with entrance area with messages for the lads that they will likely never see, and most definitely do not give a shit about.

I had high hopes of feeling some sort of strange aura or something. A transendental Mararishi-esque experience of Magical Mystery Tour proportions!!! I didn't of course. It was cool to go there though, and I'm glad that I did. As a Beatlemaniac/Geek, it's somewhere you have to go if you get the chance. I am not a member of any religion and as such, have no holy place. These other religions have places they have to go see, so why can't I? After Abbey Road, this is a definite must see for the BeatleNerd.

                                                                         A Beatle Nerd

                                                                              A roof

                                                                             A door

You will recognize the area from the Let it Be movie as it is largely unchanged. You will know which windows people were sticking their heads out of. Many posh beige coloured businessmen were disturbed by "all that racket" and wanted it stopped. What a load of see you next times! You will know where the police assembled trying to figure out what to do with the lads. Incidentally, they did nothing except to politely ask them to stop. The Beatles had hoped they were be dragged away by the cops, which, I'm sure you will agree, would have made the film much more exciting!

How many Scientologists does it take to change a light bulb?

***Attention. If you are weak minded, easily brainwashed, a science fiction writer or Hollywood A-List actor...do not read any further!!!***

There are things to do everywhere. It really just depends on how much money you have and/or how creative you are. In our great city of London, there is a smorgasbord of sights and sounds, weirdos, museums and installations,comedy, pubs, restaurants, celebs, strip clubs and more! But no matter your budget, there are fun ideas out there, even for the working poor, as many of us are.

I came upon this idea as I was sitting on the Coach last week heading from Cambridge to London. I settled in for the brutal two hour dri ve in the tortuously cramped National Express seat not created for the likes of me. Im sure my 6'4" frame was not considered during the construction of most public transportation vehicles, i think we are supposed to walk.

I sat reading 'A Cooks Tour' by Chef Anthony Bourdain (Free Plug Tony!) as the dark grey drizzly English weather rolled along my window, attempting to to pass the time without wanting to kill myself. After an hour or so of reading, smelling the putrid stink from the on-board loo(someone must have had curry for dinner) and sneakily drinking a can of Strongbow, I heard an odd comment from a girl sitting in one of the seats in front of me. I swear, this is what I heard,

"I know right! And did you know that psychiatrists caused the holocaust?"

Um, okay? Listen, I'm not claiming to be a WWII expert, except that I am one, so I think she might need to do a little more research. It was (obviously) at this point that I stopped reading Tony's book. By the way, ever notice he uses the word "ethereal" way too much?
 Anyhoo, I digress, it turns that out one of these girls, perhaps both, were Scientologists, it was hard to tell as one was much louder(Australian) and did most of the talking.

Before I continue, I must say that I am not one to disparage one's religion, I mean to disparage all of them equally and without predjudice! Okay, got that out of the way.

These two went on and on about psyciatry, dianetics, L. Ron, nonsensical testis and all sorts of strange things... but not one mention of Tom Cruise...hmm, strange. Though I must admit, I am a tiny bit afraid of him now, after listening to these two broads talk for only an hour.

This however, brings me to my point..finally! I think it would be an interesting anthropological exercise to go down to one of those Scientology centres, there are a few in London, and get a free "reading" or personality test done from one of their machines, which according to several sources, have absolutely no scientific value and are simply props! Have a chat with the examiner, ask them some fun questions, enjoy the experience and for Xenu's sake, do not get brainwashed! And of course, write about it in your blog nobody will read. Stay tuned for the conclusion!