It's utterly hopeless for me to pretend to be a young hipster anymore. No, it's all over, I am that pathetic thing: an aging, graying hipster with youth pretensions. Tonight I went after work to meet a friend at a nearby (had to be nearby; it's horrible out) dimly lit hipster bar and, since she was late (it's horrible out, which is the international signal for Hey, Assholes! Drive Around In Circles! Day) I tried to read the paper whilst nonchalantly sipping my beer and smoking. It's tough to look hip when you're holding a newspaper as far away from you as humanly possible and angling it in a sort of hopeless, doomed attempt to catch some ray of nonexistent light. I mean, I will never know what my horoscope said, people.
Fortunately, the good people at the daily Asheville paper have addressed this issue with their recent redesign of Take Five, their weekend section. They've designed it either for the very old or the very young: it's unclear which, but the shrieking 16 point type, lots of (bad) pictures, multiple exclamation points, words of one syllable and random locals spouting paragraphs about subjects they know nothing about will clearly be a big draw to both the preschool and the senile demographics. I kid because I love, y'all - but really, what were you thinking? I grant you that the old Take Five was not going to win any prizes, but, uh, baby? Bathwater? This new thing is heinous. Actually, while I have the soapbox: please, please stop trying to be hip, oh Citizen-Times. It becomes you not. You are a daily newspaper, the very definition of an eminence grise; a paper of record, a (okay, I'm exaggerating here) journalistic source. Attempting to become a really horrible free weekly is beneath you. And if you must be a free weekly, could you at least include some comics and some Ann Landers? I miss me some Mary Worth.
It even uses outdated slang terms, and you know it's outdated when I think it's outdated, because I am the Woman Who is Officially Too Old To Keep It Gangsta, as conveyed by my children. Hell, I'm forbidden under pain of death or at least long drawn out sighs to even utter the words "True Dat" or, god forbid, "What up, mah peeps?" which has, you know, put a serious crimp in my conversational style. You've never seen anything in this world until you've seen 14 year olds in a carpool react to a mother saying "YO! Whuzzup, ma peeps? The shizznit iz in the hizzouse now, true dat!" I recommend it highly.
Showing posts with label newspaper. Show all posts
Showing posts with label newspaper. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Jesus H. Christ on a Pogostick
I am weeping and wailing and gnashing my teeth today because of the Asheville Citizen-Times. Not because of their fearful editing or horrible writing or overall Gannet-ness and not even because of Susan Reimer, whose determined perkiness gives me hives, but because of the two stories on their front page.
First of all, they're selling Chimney Rock. Chimney Rock is a tacky wonderland, it is true, but it's also a glorious anomaly and I love the rickety staircase to the top of the mountain, the crazy elevator and, of course, the views. Kiss those views goodbye, because it's all going to be condos soon. Ridgetop development, the latest wonderful craze to hit our area, which destroys ecosystems from the top down and, in the process, ruins everyone's views. Hundreds of developable acres near Lake Lure, now on the market: you know they're salivating, champing at the bit to further clog the narrow roads, overtax the infrastructure, destroy the quality of life and market all of WNC to people with way more money than taste or sense. Because we need more assholes - the kind of assholes who will move downtown because it's scenic and cute and artsy, the kind of assholes who spend $2 mil on an apartment because they can and then, also because they can. . .
they complain about the noise and get the drum circle kicked out of downtown. The drum circle, which has been there for years, which livens up downtown on Friday nights and makes me happy to live here, has come into inevitable conflict with the wealthy downtown residents who moved here because Asheville was so different and now want it to be much more, you know, restricted. And genteel, and quiet and would all these strange hairy people please go away because they're lowering our property values and really, we'd rather just see people like us, which is to say Floridians and New Yorkers and occasional Californians who are over 55 and worth more than $4 million and who sold their old house and business for lots and lots of money and want to retire to downtown Asheville because it's so quaint and charming and all, but they don't want to interact with any Ashevillians unless said Ashevilliens are handing them their dinner. After their dinner shift, those Ashevilliens should take their $8 an hour and get on a bus back to guarded work camps in Candler. Because why should the new residents of Asheville, who have so much money and prestige, be troubled by the old residents, who have neither, and can't afford to live here anymore anyway, since the buildings that were moderately priced apartments are now multi million dollar "lofts"?
God fucking damn it. Is there any place on earth that humans won't spoil once they get a chance? Is there no way to stop the greed parade, the wretched excess, the vulgar assholes from ruining everything? I can't stand it.
First of all, they're selling Chimney Rock. Chimney Rock is a tacky wonderland, it is true, but it's also a glorious anomaly and I love the rickety staircase to the top of the mountain, the crazy elevator and, of course, the views. Kiss those views goodbye, because it's all going to be condos soon. Ridgetop development, the latest wonderful craze to hit our area, which destroys ecosystems from the top down and, in the process, ruins everyone's views. Hundreds of developable acres near Lake Lure, now on the market: you know they're salivating, champing at the bit to further clog the narrow roads, overtax the infrastructure, destroy the quality of life and market all of WNC to people with way more money than taste or sense. Because we need more assholes - the kind of assholes who will move downtown because it's scenic and cute and artsy, the kind of assholes who spend $2 mil on an apartment because they can and then, also because they can. . .
they complain about the noise and get the drum circle kicked out of downtown. The drum circle, which has been there for years, which livens up downtown on Friday nights and makes me happy to live here, has come into inevitable conflict with the wealthy downtown residents who moved here because Asheville was so different and now want it to be much more, you know, restricted. And genteel, and quiet and would all these strange hairy people please go away because they're lowering our property values and really, we'd rather just see people like us, which is to say Floridians and New Yorkers and occasional Californians who are over 55 and worth more than $4 million and who sold their old house and business for lots and lots of money and want to retire to downtown Asheville because it's so quaint and charming and all, but they don't want to interact with any Ashevillians unless said Ashevilliens are handing them their dinner. After their dinner shift, those Ashevilliens should take their $8 an hour and get on a bus back to guarded work camps in Candler. Because why should the new residents of Asheville, who have so much money and prestige, be troubled by the old residents, who have neither, and can't afford to live here anymore anyway, since the buildings that were moderately priced apartments are now multi million dollar "lofts"?
God fucking damn it. Is there any place on earth that humans won't spoil once they get a chance? Is there no way to stop the greed parade, the wretched excess, the vulgar assholes from ruining everything? I can't stand it.
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