Not Cool: The Hipster Elite and Their War on You by Greg Gutfeld Page A
Authors: Greg Gutfeld
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who blame you for their lack of accomplishment. (I’ve been on both sides of this, often on the same night.) Sadly, it works. Most of us are decent people, and we want to be liked and/or left alone. So when the cool anticapitalists—feeling no guilt because they’ve apparently never made a profit anywhere—choose to focus their “for the greater good” mentality on the benign capitalist, the benign capitalist capitulates. When these people claim that others “deserve” your income, your savings, your material goods, rather than fight the arguments, corporations and their captains give in; it’s just better to throw money at angry fools than to argue with them. You can’t win when you’re a suit, and they are hirsute. Seriously—since when did lumberjack beards reflect actual achievement … on Brooklyn waiters?
Young people don’t know where money comes from . To them, it comes from Dad’s bank account. Press them further, and you might as well ask them how to build a Hadron Collider. Sadly, no one bothers to educate the cool kids about money. Have you ever read an article about a penniless rocker who calls his mom to borrow cash so he can put money in his van’s gas tank? No, you just read about his “dark soul.” For some reason, the “cool” exist without the machinations of money; stuff just appears when they need it, like Easter eggsin April or Democratic voters in Ohio. It’s far easier for them to understand “divestment on campus” than “investment in stocks.” This is why students are often the best targets for the aggressive beggar. I see it in Manhattan every day. A seasoned panhandler need only play cool, and by proxy can make the backpacked undergrad feel cool too, and that quickly separates the kid from his dad’s dollars. The panhandler walks away with money for dope, and the young dope walks away feeling good about himself, without ever wondering how that money made it into his pocket in the first place. That’s the essence of modern capitalism for the cool: “I give you something, yet I have no idea where that something came from.” It’s an economy based on the tooth fairy.
It’s this misguided view of charity that has replaced real charity. As our government pretends to offer handouts, it’s really just spreading the wealth around, without wondering where that wealth has come from. In the end, redistribution kills ambition, saps the energy that fuels the American dream, and makes all of us poorer each passing day. Our consciousness may be raised, but our options for wealth and success dwindle. (Which is why I really need you to buy two copies of this book. My hormone treatments aren’t covered by Obamacare.)
YOU PRAY, THEY DECAY
Let me ask you this: If you were to designate who was cooler, who would it be? Phil Lynott or Mitt Romney? It’s pretty easy. Lynott—hands down.
Lynott was the lead singer who fronted the great Irish band Thin Lizzy, known for chord-crunching nuggets like “The Boys Are Back in Town” and “Jailbreak.” If you don’t have their great live album, you’re probably an awful person. Anyway, Lynott died of a drug overdose in January 1986. He was a great-looking, talented, black Irish—but also a junkie. A dead junkie, now.
Back in September 2012, a couple of months before the last presidential election, both Lynott’s widow and mom raised objections to Romney’s use of “The Boys Are Back in Town” during his campaign. They were opposed because Mitt opposed gay marriage, and they assumed Philip would have been pissed about it, if he hadn’t overdosed twenty-five years prior.
They have every right to object. If it were me, and my music were being used during the campaign of someone I disagreed with, I’d say something too. The only candidate I’d allow to playmy music would be Bigfoot and, unless we’re talking about foraging for squirrels, he’s notoriously apolitical.
But viewed through the prism of cool versus uncool, another
Young people don’t know where money comes from . To them, it comes from Dad’s bank account. Press them further, and you might as well ask them how to build a Hadron Collider. Sadly, no one bothers to educate the cool kids about money. Have you ever read an article about a penniless rocker who calls his mom to borrow cash so he can put money in his van’s gas tank? No, you just read about his “dark soul.” For some reason, the “cool” exist without the machinations of money; stuff just appears when they need it, like Easter eggsin April or Democratic voters in Ohio. It’s far easier for them to understand “divestment on campus” than “investment in stocks.” This is why students are often the best targets for the aggressive beggar. I see it in Manhattan every day. A seasoned panhandler need only play cool, and by proxy can make the backpacked undergrad feel cool too, and that quickly separates the kid from his dad’s dollars. The panhandler walks away with money for dope, and the young dope walks away feeling good about himself, without ever wondering how that money made it into his pocket in the first place. That’s the essence of modern capitalism for the cool: “I give you something, yet I have no idea where that something came from.” It’s an economy based on the tooth fairy.
It’s this misguided view of charity that has replaced real charity. As our government pretends to offer handouts, it’s really just spreading the wealth around, without wondering where that wealth has come from. In the end, redistribution kills ambition, saps the energy that fuels the American dream, and makes all of us poorer each passing day. Our consciousness may be raised, but our options for wealth and success dwindle. (Which is why I really need you to buy two copies of this book. My hormone treatments aren’t covered by Obamacare.)
YOU PRAY, THEY DECAY
Let me ask you this: If you were to designate who was cooler, who would it be? Phil Lynott or Mitt Romney? It’s pretty easy. Lynott—hands down.
Lynott was the lead singer who fronted the great Irish band Thin Lizzy, known for chord-crunching nuggets like “The Boys Are Back in Town” and “Jailbreak.” If you don’t have their great live album, you’re probably an awful person. Anyway, Lynott died of a drug overdose in January 1986. He was a great-looking, talented, black Irish—but also a junkie. A dead junkie, now.
Back in September 2012, a couple of months before the last presidential election, both Lynott’s widow and mom raised objections to Romney’s use of “The Boys Are Back in Town” during his campaign. They were opposed because Mitt opposed gay marriage, and they assumed Philip would have been pissed about it, if he hadn’t overdosed twenty-five years prior.
They have every right to object. If it were me, and my music were being used during the campaign of someone I disagreed with, I’d say something too. The only candidate I’d allow to playmy music would be Bigfoot and, unless we’re talking about foraging for squirrels, he’s notoriously apolitical.
But viewed through the prism of cool versus uncool, another
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