Vampire Weekend Is Contra Closed-Mindedness

A found poem from the November 12, New York Times article “Generation Sell” by William Deresiewicz

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For hippies, the emotion was love.
Beatniks aimed at ecstasy,
punks were all about rage and
slackers, apathy and angst,

but where do we the real bohemians—
the hipsters, in other words,
with our skinny pants, retro hats
and wall-to-wall tattoos — fit in?

We’re vicious, anonymously,
on the comment threads of public websites
but when we speak in our own names,
on Facebook and so forth,

you see the bland, inoffensive,
smile-and-a-shoeshine, stay-positive,
I’ll-be-who-you-want-me-to-be-personality.
We’re all in show biz now.

We make, sell or serve what the bobos buy:
See our food carts, urban farming-supply stores,
boutique pickle companies and techie start-ups?
See our wallets made from recycled plastic bags?

We are a post-emotional generation:
no anger, no edge, no ego.
No, we are little businesses always selling ourselves
and relentlessly tending our customer base.

We are the real. Millennial. affect.
bohemia merging imperceptibly with the bourgeoisie,
with dreams of hip social entrepreneurship,
starting companies to make money and give it all away.

Try to picture Allen Ginsberg having a chat
with Don Draper at the local coffeehouse
about the latest Lady Gaga video,
and you’ll realize how far we’ve come.