Two Conversational Cliches I’m Really Getting Tired Of

It occurs to me that in lieu of prodding the actual core–which sprouts such disregard and aversion to such areas–many people around me lately have chosen to say “those Soccer moms” or “those hipsters.”  Needless to say, most of us in our twenties and thirties have heard these terms tossed around for years, mostly in the whip of a half-assed lambast that goes nowhere but back into the monotonous fillers of conversational water.  However, it struck me recently that the label Soccer Moms is completely devoid of further criticism; it just points at the figure driving an SUV or van who happens to have children that may or may not play soccer.  This phrase is then passed on and as ill-fated reverts into an ugly jar of complacency, an “I am happy to label but will not discuss what is behind the label” attitude.

As for the hipster remarks, let’s be honest–the definition is now beyond control.  Living near Wicker Park in Chicago, I do understand the need to group those who promulgate the scene into some sort of genre of beings, yet every decade has a large amount of people parading in similar attire, strident in their self-proposed ideologies or shared versions of an indefinable yet sloppy and over-analyzed form of existentialism.  What irks me is that because this is an out-of-control area for definition, those who keep saying “those hipsters” are in fact the remnants of what has been considered hipster themselves–they have so-called “worn out but new boots,” “greasy but ungreasy hair,” “v-neck shirts and striped jorts (jean shorts).”  It varies in every city, yet living in one where this is often the overhauled and monstrously monotonous area of discussion is starting to disturb me.

These are just current tifs I have with what I am overhearing.  I have no theory to further investigate other than this is another societal element of short-shouldered labeling and critical indolence.

On a different note, it is only a matter of time before everyone starts really getting back into Vanilla Ice’s first album from 1990, To the Extreme.  I mean, do you remember how fantastic these beats were, how scandalous the lyrics and dirty the backbone?:


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