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Hipstercrite Life

Hipstercrite Life, Writing

Should We Punch Nazis?

Let me start off by getting this out of the way:

  1. I’m a liberal, an activist and a pacifist
  2. I’m also Jewish
  3. However, I admit that I don’t know the correct answer to “Should we punch neo-Nazis?”
  4. Therefore, this essay will have more questions than answers
  5. And it’s not about the ethics of punching a neo-Nazi, or if a neo-Nazi deserves to be punched or not (they do), but rather a study on whether or not punching them is the best method to bring about positive change
  6. P.S. I hate neo-Nazis

Inlight of the events in Charlottesville, I’ve seen a large uptick in support of punching neo-Nazis.

This support is coming from thoughtful, intelligent thinkers I respect on the left and it’s got me questioning whether or not we’ve arrived at violence being the only way to achieve peace.

But as a pacifist, writing the above sentence makes me cringe; it feels like the ultimate oxymoron.

How can violence be the answer to peace?

We hold up our non-violent leaders — Martin (more…)

Hipstercrite Life

Please Remember: Love Will Outnumber Hate

Words have escaped me lately.

This is, in part, due to the rapid fire of unfortunate, heartbreaking, terrifying events that have plagued America recently. Like many others, my brain is in a frenzied state and is having difficulty keeping up; every day is a fight not to go down a path of self-preservation numbness to what is going on. I know that inaction is not the answer, but damn, some days it just feels so unbearably hopeless.

The other reason words have trickled out of my brain, through my ears and down to the ground is because I’m tired of being told how I’m supposed to think and feel by the online masses in times of turmoil. As a writer on the web, I do not want to pretend I’m an expert on individual emotional reaction to catastrophe; I will not tell you how you’re supposed to act right now.

But with that being said, there is one thing I want to share in hopes of providing comfort, and as a reader, please feel free to take it or leave it.

During these times when I feel (more…)

Austin, Hipstercrite Life

I Will Trim Your Trees at Night

 

Once in awhile, when darkness falls, I will sling my trusty hedge trimmers over my shoulder and march up and down my street looking for neighbors whose brush encroaches on the sidewalk. I will snip, snip, snip as fast as I can and scurry off to the next offender.

Before you think I’m that one weird-ass neighbor every has, let me explain.

A handful of my neighbors do not regard their lawn as something that deserves care or maintenance. Fine and dandy. It’s their property to do what they see fit. However, when their overgrowth overtakes the sidewalk, it’s a slap in the face of all neighbors. When elderly people and children are forced to walk in the street, it’s downright villainous. VILLAINOUS, I SAY!

But day after day, no neighbor comes forward to speak to the offenders and the growth continues to expand.

Except for me.

I’m coming forward, mother f’ers.

I realized that in order to take care of business, there were a couple avenues I could pursue:
1.) I knock (more…)

Austin, Hipstercrite Life

Yesterday a Homeless Friend Gifted Me Lunch

 

I have a friend.

His name is Tyrone.

Tyrone is homeless.

We’ve been buddies for years now, and we have each other’s backs.

Our favorite pastime is to hang on my front porch, chewing the fat on the troubles and joys of this beautiful and sometimes hateful world.

I could write a novel on our relationship — like when he and I pooled our resources to buy him a van to sleep out of, or when he wanted to heal the stye on my eyelid with a needle and whiskey — but I don’t feel it’s appropriate or necessary to write about it in a public way. Maybe one day.

However, there is one thing I want to share:

Two days ago, my boyfriend mentioned to Tyrone that I lost my job.

Yesterday Tyrone came by my house to gift me lunch.

Tyrone, who has no home, no steady employment and who struggles to find healthy and satiating meals on a daily basis, brought me lunch because I lost my job.

I love Tyrone.

And I’m thankful for his friendship.

(Note: I used Prisma to obscure Tyrone’s face to respect (more…)

Hipstercrite Life

The Little Cat That Could

                                                                 FatFace before and after

One year ago, everything changed.

A filthy, ragged feral moved into my home.

She was apprehensive at first, and so was I.

Having lived on the street for all of her life, I wasn’t sure how she’d take to her digs.

Would she shred my face while I slept?

Would she hide under the bed for the rest of her existence?

Would she beg to be released back into wild world she was used to?

None of those things happened. Instead, we began developing a bond so strong that I, a self-proclaimed cat non-enthusiast, found herself utterly and completely head over heels.

(I must tell you that as I type this, my cat’s head rests less than two inches away from the keyboard, her butt is under my chin, and she’s intently watching the letters dance across the screen. Dammit…she just put her claw on the space bar and keysaaqwjefprgn kbfldblhldf (more…)

Hipstercrite Life, Pop Culture

Why I Can’t Focus on Anything But the Fight

Since Donald Trump’s inauguration, I’ve had difficulty finding words.

Words are my job, but when I sit down to my computer, all I want to write is FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK over and over.

In fact, I do write FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK over and over, but then I delete it, and I stare at an empty computer screen.

Right now nothing feels as important to me than writing about what is currently happening in America, and even then, I cannot construct a sentence that adequately conveys my anger and fear.

Every morning I have to fight the urge to not throw away my work — I’m a freelance copywriter who also has a blog and is working on a book proposal and screenplay — to become a professional activist. I’m only grounded when I remind myself that I need to make money in order to survive.

Many of my friends in writing and film have said the same thing: Making art not pertaining to what is going (more…)

Hipstercrite Life

To the Woman at the Diner, I Saw You

diner

I saw you walk into the diner with your husband.

Your back tired from years of living; your face pointed to the ground.

I saw you walk into the diner and I thought to myself I don’t want to get old.

I don’t want to sit across from my love and sit in silence because I cannot hear, I cannot see.

I saw the cataracts floating in your quiet eyes.

I saw your knuckles rising like mountains through the terrain of your hands.

I saw the permanent scowl you never asked for.

I daydreamed about your life, your marriage, about the emptiness you might feel right now.

I watched you from over my love’s shoulder, sitting in silence, staring at the table, lost in your own thoughts.

I also watched as you picked up your straw and blew the wrapper into your husband’s face.

And I watched as you clapped your hands and laughed until tears formed in your no longer quiet eyes.

Hipstercrite Life

The End of the Year Seems Like a Good Time to Let Go of the Rage

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I try to be a nice person.

When discussing controversial topics, such as the 2016 election, I ask questions so I can hear all sides of view.

I never say “F you!” to anyone, online or IRL.

When I don’t agree with someone, I smile, I listen and I try to understand.

All this means that I have a lot of mother-fucking rage built up.

After 12 months of trying to be a wholly empathetic person, it finally caught up with me, and now I’m going to release all my rage in this blog post.


To my fellow people on the left: Stop fucking attacking each other. We have bigger fish to fry than lambasting folks on our own side. You know how the right calls us delicate snowflakes and shit like that? It’s because we’re triggered by every goddamn thing and go on the offensive like it’s our job. Fighting for human rights IS our job; being a jerky-dick is not. When a fellow leftie criticizes the Democratic party, and any leader it, it doesn’t mean they’re a Trump-loving racist (more…)

Hipstercrite Life, Thirty-something

Your Mother, Wife or Daughter Has Experienced Harassment or Assault

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Inspired by Kelly Oxford’s tweet, I asked my friends and family to share their stories of assault. I was not prepared for the answers I received.

In order to protect the identity of those who were brave enough to share their stories on my Facebook status, I will not share their comments, but I will tell you that within a few hours of asking my peers if they’ve experienced sexual harassment or assault, 50 women responded.

These 50 women wrote of being raped by loved ones, people they trusted.

They wrote of being groped by medical professionals or bosses.

They wrote of having their breasts grabbed or their vaginas or buttholes fingered by friends at school or strangers at a bar.

They wrote of being harassed “too many times to count.”

A few women shared their stories for the first time.

Some shared their stories with me privately.

The stories came from women ages 20 to 70, and they were all difficult to read. However, their responses reconfirmed several truths including (more…)

Hipstercrite Life, Writing

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