I enjoy (I was going to say “love” but let’s keep things realistic here) Chuck Klosterman for the same reasons that I like Project Runway and True Life: it’s still pop-culture soma, but I can quite readily convince myself that they have more substance than their more populist analogues (Project Runway:Top Model::Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs:I Love the 80’s1); I still wouldn’t publicly announce2 enjoyment of Klosterman’s fat-free cultural criticism–I mean, the index of …Cocoa Puffs is little more than an alphabetized summary of Gen X trends (not that I am disparaging of Gen X; at least they comprise some sort of a coherent whole as a generation; my contemporaries and I are binded by little more than a misunderstanding of true irony) falling upon axes of high/low brow and…oh, heck-blahblahblah, I’ll just stop here with the meta-though-still-fat-free criticism because my Klosterman-worship is quite simple: he is an accessible vehicle for my long held fascination with pseudo-intellectual white boys3.
- It took me a moment to come up with this analogy and I am quite satisfied with it, and am convinced that it is far better than anything the College Board ever came up with.↩
- This blog does not count as public until someone reads it. Until then, it is but a noiseless tree. ↩
- See also: my obsession with Rushmore-which will no doubt be the topic of a run-on sentence in the near future-and, well, every boy I’ve ever dated ever (*sigh*). ↩
Be mean. Keep it dirty. Stay off topic.