32. Now that I'm way old, I'll be reporting on the wacky antics of the young and young at heart.
Enjoy some mushed peas, turn on the Wheel of Fortune, and prepare to hear about the crazy things young-uns are doing in our neighborhoods and across the globe.
Man do I hate hipsters and this shit reeks of their infernal meddling:
Hipster Uno: Dude, how totally sweet would it be to get a bunch of people in a public space wearing our i-Pods ... (inhale gurgle gurgle exhale) ... and like totally all of us dance to our own music, right there in the freakin' subway stop dude!
Hipster Dos: Sweet, dude. Pass it.
Hipster Uno's Girlfriend (Probably named Moonbow): Wow, that's a great idea. It's totally transcendent, merging the public and private, the corporate and the celebratory...
Flashmobbing apparently has it's roots here in New York City, very likely in Moonbow's apartment where Hipster #1 is crashing while he works out the idea he had for his graphic novel. You know. The graphic novel about the robot samurai who totally kicks ass with the katana given to him by the first robot emperor of Japan? What do you mean I haven't told you about it? Oh shit, dude. Sit down. I gotta tell you this idea I had. It's going to blow your mind. I'm totally working it out lately. Like really putting some good ideas down on paper and stuff.
Exactly. One of those brands of hipster. Hate them. I'm so off-topic right now.
Anyways, flashmobbing has migrated to the London underground scene, literally. Hundreds of lonely people (and Jimmy Carter) descended upon the London subway to listen to their MP3 players and dance while mildly amused commuters meekly asked to be let by.
Of course the celebrants were wearing headphones, so they ignored them in the same way we all ignore the pleas of the homeless when we're wearing our headphones on the New York subway. So fair enough.
I only assume the flashmobbing craze is the United States' retaliation for the Spice Girls.
You could not get away with this crap in New York City. My pulse quickens simply thinking of pushing my way through throngs of weirdos dancing in silence during my afternoon commute. Seriously, I need a Fresca to settle my nerves down.
And how the hell do they get away with this in London of all places? Don't the London police, like, shoot people on the subway?
Said one observer, "It was entertaining, if strange to see all these people gyrating to their own beat. It was the Soul Train arriving at platform one."
Oh. So. British. I've seen Soul Train, madam. That's not Soul Train. That's train wreck.