Man, I’m sick of hearing the word “hipster.” If I hear that word just a few more times, I think my ears will explode and blood (and ear bits) will spray all over the walls and onto anyone who happens to be standing within … earshot.

Now let me be perfectly clear. I’m not necessarily sick of actual hipsters (although, if I see one more twenty-something guy walk by sporting a beard, a mustard-yellow button-up sweater, and a pair of women’s sunglasses, I’ll probably give them a good, solid face-push). No, I’m sick of people talking about hipsters. It’s just boring.

There is nothing left to say about what a hipster is, what they do, how they look, what music they like, or how tight their skinny-leg pants are. No one who talks about hipsters is praising them. It’s all insults, and it got old a few years ago. The word “hipster” has been an insult since the very first time it was used to describe anyone who lives The Life Ironic. And, while I love making fun of trivial subcultures as much as the next guy, I’m done.

Bashing hipsters is just like bashing goth kids or emo kids or Young Republicans. People do it because they’re easy targets. Yes, pretentious people should be knocked down a peg. Yes, people with whacky-ass haircuts must be ridiculed. And yes, people who attend a friend’s wedding wearing leather slacks, LA Gear hightops, a Big Bud’s Hometown Auto Supply T-Shirt, a white tuxedo coat, and a purple Trucker’s cap need to be shot into space. But come on, people. Let’s challenge ourselves. We also need to be more careful about what we’re criticizing.

Hipsters are so widely mocked that a number of truly good cultural activities have felt the sting of the backlash. I’m baffled by how many other sub cultural activities – biking, gardening, knitting, eating local, etc. – have been sucked beneath the hipster label. These things are casualties by association, but they’re not inherently hipster trends.

    More and more people are getting into this stuff (and have been for a very long time), and personally, I think the majority of people doing these things aren’t doing them ironically or for show, no matter how many D.A.R.E. to Keep Kids Off Drugs T-shirts they own. They honestly like having a backyard garden, supporting local people and businesses, and riding a bike. And it’s my hope that someday – long after the super-tight pants, the mismatched knee-high socks, the empty Pabst Blue Ribbon cans, and the creepy French moustaches are thrown into the attic – these young adults will still be doing these great things because it’s just what they like.

A lot of people think everyone involved with Volume One is a hipster, to which I say, stop by the office sometime and feast your eyes upon our brand name footwear, Kohls-bought cargo pants, Lean Pockets and our Diet Mountain Dew, and our hand-painted pictures of Guns-n-Roses album covers. Peer within our iTunes playlists to discover track after track of Rush, Christina Aquilera, Tom Petty, Sugarland, and maybe even a tune or two by some songstress named Avril Lavigne. How much pretension can you find in our Broadway show tunes and our Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVD sets? Like most people, small things like this do not define us. They’re just some stuff we like and not some kind of statement about humankind.

To all you hipster-haters, I say this: At the end of the day, a hipster – by his or her culture-defining detachment from the mainstream – is not pushing any kind of agenda on you. They’re probably not even sitting around making fun of you, the way you are of them. At least, not as much. So, who’s the jerk now?

OK, now I’m finished with this. If I so much as even type the word “hipster” one more time, my fingers will probably explode.

Ow.