|irony is a dead scene (insert dick or dick joke here)
||[Dec. 9th, 2003|11:36 pm]
The American Caliban
|||||The Fall-Stephen Song||]|
A good evening gabbling along with nickjb about art and life and music and art again. We had just got through a good discussion of the death of expertise in rock ‘n’ roll and were being very smart about big ideas (this is fun), and also talking about how impossible standup comedy is, because everyone hates actual humor and just likes to be insulted and made nervous. Basically the usual rediscovery that stupidity is a big virtue and one isn’t supposed to GET TOO BIG FOR ONE’S BRITCHES ‘round here.
And as we were walking to our cars, the poster boy for this mentality, Mr. Drunk Bartender with Beer Bottle Design Shirt was walking to his car and yelling back and forth to a friend:
DRUNK_BARTENDER: LATER HOSER!!!
FRIEND: LATER, YOU GOIN’ HOME OR WHAT? YOU LOSER
DRUNK_BARTENDER: FUCK NO! I’M GOIN’ GAMBLIN!
FRIEND: RIGHT ON! YOU COMIN’ WITH US TO THE FINE CITY OF SAN BERNARDINO?
DRUNK_BARTENDER: WHAT? FUCK?
This is the kind of atmosphere that drives anyone with an IQ over about 60 into grumpy elitism purely as a defense mechanism. Stuff a rock ‘n’ roll club or a comedy joint with 100 of these guys and you can see why pop culture is such a nasty business.