That’s The Type Of People I Hate

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I know, I know. Indulge me.

I consider myself to be a people person. I have always been a floater, so I’ve never been bound to any particular group. I like all types of people. These days, though, I’ve become increasingly annoyed with certain segments of the population.

Some have tried to place the blame of said annoyance on me moving to LA. I disagree, because it excludes the fact that the biggest generator of self-important jackasses these days can be found on the Web, not Hollywood.

With that said, indulge me in my list called, “You Make Me Want To Start Handing Out Birth Control On The Street.”

1. The hipster, the blipster, the whatever you call the people who dress like 1983 but think on the level of someone born in 1810 B.C.

I am very happy that now more than ever Black men and women don’t feel bound to dress a certain type of way. I’m not Marc Jacobs, but I can appreciate individual style when I see it. It’s honestly refreshing.

Now, having a sense of style doesn’t necessarily make you Andy Warhol or Donatella Versace. Sadly, that fact is lost on far too many people who seem to be legends in their own mind. These days everyone wants a title, their own particular brand, or whatever they think will make them seem “different” and thus “important.”

More times than not, these sort of folks looking to be christened the next whoever don’t really do anything other than dress up, walk around, and write two sentences about how haute they are.
That may earn them a little bit of attention via a blog, it may even boost them to the G-List or innanet famous status, but does it really translate into anything credible insofar as money and the mainstream attention that they undoubtely crave?

Perhaps it does and maybe I’m just late boots (I’m learning the lingo, bear with me), but it typically reads to me as the sort of attention that leads on to “famous for nothing status.” That’s cute when you’re a Kardashian, Hilton, or Richie, because you have money from the jump and ties to parents with actual talent. It works for them because the weight of their last names, but if you’re not on that level and you’re just on a blog, well, you’re just on a blog.

And now more than ever are so many people trying desperately to out do each other in the race to appear “different.” They all end up looking the same, then have the nerve to try and be obnoxious about it.

I’m not going to even pretend I’m where I want to be professionally. I am not, but I work hard and I will get there. Fortunately, I’m not even there yet but I can spot a pretender a mile away.

I look at blogs, I see tweets, and I pick up on folks bragging on events that anyone in their 20s working in media with a gap not too distractingly wide can get into. If you’re sense of self-worth is based on wearing something by a person who likely cares nothing about you to attend a party full of folks who aren’t as pressed about the event as you appear to be go read a book.

Speaking of which, I would like to think that the generation out now with their sense of style and go get ’em attitude mirrors those in the Harlem Renaissance. Yeah, hell no. We’re not even in the league of those in late 80s/early 90s. Why? Because a lot of us don’t read.

Being fly is not an excuse to be stupid. Put it on a button or pay Pharrell to say if that’s what it takes to get the message across.

I’d cut for someone who could dress and thought they were more important than they actually are so long as they could formulate a coherent sentence. I really would. A lot of people are assholes, but insight is insight. So many people in my age group are ridiculously vapid. There’s no depth, no real sense of creativity. Just a desire to become a celebrity (or something close to it) because they’ve fallen into the trap of celebrity worship.

Which leads me to Type 02.

2. The person who writes about celebrities thinking they’re one, too.

This isn’t directed at any particular blogger. It really isn’t. But, I will say I think sometimes this obsession with celebrity our society produces way too many confused people. I don’t actually mind the wave of bloggers changing the media game. I think it in many ways, it was necessary. However, I do think [most] journalists (not all, even they suffer, too) are trained to realize that they are to tell the story, not try to insert themselves in it.

There is a line that shouldn’t be crossed, but far too many people jig up and down through it because they’re trying to get famous themselves.

If that’s the case, get off the blog and go learn to play the piano, or take a pole dancing class. Hell, you’re a blogger: Go find a rapper to slurp and get a lit agent. That seems to work well, too, these days. Whatever you need to do, go do it. That way you can stop wasting cyberspace talking about yourself when you know damn well people clicked on the link to read about what contact solution their favorite celebrity uses.

3. You Trapped In The Closet People

This is dedicated to the men and women who are walking vaccum and carpet cleaners late at night or in my inbox, but fake breeders during the day. I would go on, but if I did it would turn into my first book or something.

4. No Wait, The The Pretentious People Really Do Irk Me

I think this whole entry is really dedicated to them. I’m trying not to sound like a hater. There’s a difference between constructive criticism and hate. Hate would suggest jealously, but I don’t want to dress like Carlton Banks and Cruella Deville to earn a feature in a magazine that will likely be folded in three days.

I just want people to stop trying to convince me that they’re cool, that they’re fly, that they’re meant to be a celebrity and just BE.

How much more fun are people when they’re just being versus projecting all the time? Stop it. Some people may love me, other people may think I’m nuttier than a Snickers, but I am me. All the time.

5. The Folks Who Would Give Themselves Fellatio If They Could

There’s self-confidence and then there are people who I feel like have themselves on their breath. It’s OK, we know you know matter. Don’t all of God’s children important or something like that? Yeah, we got it. Now sit your happy self-congratulating ass down somewhere.

And: Bloggers who don’t update their damn blogs.

With my punk ass, right?

Wait, wait, almost forgot: The Bougie Black Brigade

I don’t know what post-Blackness is supposed to mean, but it comes across as another way for privileged middle class Blacks to separate themselves from their poor brethren. This isn’t as prevalent in my generation as it is in the previous one, but they’re still the ones getting most of the camera time.

I think every faction of the Black community deserves their voices heard, but it irks the hell out of me so many of this group turn their noses up at other Black people. Trying to live up to some white standard is passe, and as cold as it may sound, I look forward to the day that the generation still clinging on this to this us vs. them mentality passes on.

Despite are recent triumphs, Black people are suffering now more than ever. The last thing we need is some saddity colored regurgitating some bullshit from the yestercentury.

That’s it. My rant is a complete. Call me a tacky hater if you must. I am not, but hey, since I pulled out the shovel no sense of stopping other folks from digging in.

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