At Urban Monarch headquarters, there is no shortage of hipster propaganda and media lurking about.  Whether it be the Death Cab for Cutie tracks taking up plenty of space in my party shuffle, or the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Garden State DVDs littering Greg’s bedroom , there’s far worse things we could be called than ‘hipster’.

One of Westword’s writers, the always hilarious Adam Clayton Holland disagrees, and makes some good points in favor of retiring the term permanently.

“Hipster” is a word that mysteriously entered my vocabulary a few years ago, without me knowing how or when, and somehow became attached to my descriptions of people who possess an affinity for certain superficial tendencies, such as wearing thrift-store clothing, donning Castro caps and occasional throwback mustaches and, above all, being judgmental.

Some of the references in the article are very Denver-metro-area specific, but feel free to insert your own local brit-pop, scooter laden, art student heavy neighborhoods in their place.

I can imagine a tranquil evening at Sputnik, with everyone discussing Ted Leo and sipping Stella, when all of a sudden, a panicked hipsteroo sprints in the door and screams, “Hey, everybody, they’re on to us! There’s so many of us now that we can no longer be the outsiders! We have become the mainstream!”

And then the entire Baker neighborhood explodes in a gigantic mushroom cloud.

“They’re the nerdy, pretentious fucks who used to get slammed into lockers and now exact their revenge through out-and-out smarminess,” one friend told me.

“Messy hair, trendy fuckers you see at Lipgloss every Friday night,” said another.

Don’t miss a drop of the sardonic goodness, here.

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