Reverse the Hip-Gnosis

If hipsters knew everything there was to know, we'd all be floating on clouds by now.

By my calculations, they're still fraid of money, a bit enthralled with sex (especially as it may or may not be "dirty"), their own filth, infantilisme, growing up, committing fully, taking responsibility for their influence and power, and, last but not least, having actual fun. Not the kind of I was drunk, it was so fun, fun, but the plain old it was fun type.

Unfortunately, writing about it in too much detail would make me part of the powt-modern clique again. Must avoid that at all costs.

And a great time to admit that I've been talking a bit of smack recently. It happens. More than you might think. But I think you know. Most new age thinkers (not that I am one) or even decent pontificaters won't ever tell you that they fucked up. Well, I was talking smack. Got a little happy. I didn't get a good haircut, for one. I'll leave the rest for you to sort. You know anyway. Nothing I can tell you that ain't true anyway.

I'm happy to be back in Chicago. The drive across was nice. Spike JOnze returned my call. Very nice guy. I can already see myself kissing up. Must prevent. He's working on something with Dave Eggers. What? Spike, my brother, you've got more charm, levity and grace in a pinkie than all of the Daves put together (that would be Eggers, Sedaris, Foster Wallace, etc). Just bring it baby. Anyway, he was a very nice guy and I appreciate him returning my call. Keep fighting for the real happy ending Spike.

Also got my book up at Quimby's here in town. They're afraid of money too. I know I was an almost instrumental part of it but fuck grunge! Grunge ain't shit. And now there are 12 million very smart kids without enough time to really sort it out out there just being grunge for the hell of it. Cause the cool older kids did it. What a waste of time and love.

If you're interested in starting the pop movement that won't be a waste of anyone's time, shoot me an e-mail.

Big props to my boy Jawaid, the Blastin' Afghan. For holding it down while on the Left Coast. do your thang, baby! Thanks for the Swiss Feets.

Also--go see March of the Penguins--it's dope! A movie all about penguins. Better than half the nonsense out there. We won't get many truly lovely movies until we develop a price point that can support some love. I figure $18 aught to do it.

Sounds like gunshots from the public housing up the block. Good lord let it be firecrackers. Or just get all the saints out of the way.

PAX OUT

ps: Got the Mackies, got the Rode tube mic, got the monitor--I'm golden. ALL*MIGHTY, ALL*RIGHTY!