two-twenty

just zissou it | alex

A craigslist poster in Seattle wants you to know that yeah, he bought Team Zissou Adidas, but don’t worry, he “gets it”:

Post-Modern Tragedy

Today is the day when the historians(*1) will report me as turning from a "kinda hip guy" to "hipster trash".
For my Team Zissou Adidas have come in. I don't care what they say(*2). I think the shoes have a certain je ne sais quoi(*3).
I shall wear them at home. I shall wear them at work. I shall wear them walking. Talking. Sitting. Standing. (*4)

You will notice that the above text is seeded with numbered asterisks. These serve a double purpose: they indicate that the poster has read David Foster Wallace, and also refer to “Tangents” the poster added beneath the main text, about his barely-suppressed inward desire to be “hip” (as he puts it) and his engorged outward desire to repudiate any suggestion that he might appear in any way beholden to the concept of “hipness”. Well, that’s what the original “Tangents” seemed to be about anyway. They were all lies. We corrected them for you:

* Tangent 1: Sometimes when I say “history” instead of “herstory” my girlfriend beats me. Woman-friend! I mean partner! I mean—Oww!
* Tangent 2: Mind starts playing, "I don't care (*A) what they say anymore this my life. Go ahead with your own life, leave me alone". Thoughts of Forrest Gump and Honey I Shrunk The Kids: The TV Show. (*B)
* Sub-Tangent A to Tangent 2: Well, I mean, I care enough to post about it to craigslist, but not an iota more than that!
* Sub-Tangent B to Tangent 2: This “Tangent” is unedited simply because there is nothing more cruel or incriminating than the fact that I just referenced Billy Joel, “Forrest Gump”, and “Honey I Shrunk the Kids: The TV Show”(*i) within the framework of “hipness”.
* Sub-Sub-Tangent i to Sub-Tangent B: Must remember-- “Three’s Company”: hip. “Small Wonder”: hip! “Benson”: v. v. hip! “Honey I Shrunk the Kids: The TV Show”: NOT hip!
* Tangent 3: My parents paid an extraordinary amount for my education and all I have to show for it is one French phrase, a somewhat muddled understanding of the concepts of “Post-Modern” and “Tragedy”, genital herpes, and a really scratched up copy of Pearl Jam’s “Ten”.
* Tangent 4: These are all euphemisms for masturbating.

Today’s lesson: no amount of pre-emptive irony can protect you from your own glorious bellyflop across the line separating clever from stupid. Today’s sub-lesson: beware the well-intentioned post to craigslist-- it has been the undoing of greater men than you! Ow! And women! Oww!

Side Note: In case you were wondering, after many discussions, arguments and near fistfights I have come to the unfortunate conclusion that “The Life Aquatic” is not a good movie. A truly enjoyable theater experience, to be sure, because Wes Anderson is very smart, clever, visually and conceptually inventive, has good taste in music and most assuredly shares a common cultural history with me. However, because this film lacked the framework of strong characters or even a compelling story to hang all of this talent from, it lapsed into a pastiche of amusing caricatures and sketches. Hopefully his next project will mark a return to the top-notch sense of story and character that marked “Rushmore” and "Tenenbaums".

In keeping with the lateral thinking theme of this post, a Side Note to Side Note: “The Life Aquatic” made me wonder if Wes Anderson isn’t in danger of becoming the iPod of directors: we idolize his form and drool slavishly at the altar of his iconic coolness, but sooner or later, as our batteries die and our screens go dead, we are forced to ask: does the substance truly live up to the style? Or, perhaps, is the style enough for us?

(Full disclosure: I adore Wes Anderson. And my iPod. And David Foster Wallace! So shoot me.)

Post-Modern Tragedy | craiglist.org (via gawker)