Tuesday, November 20, 2012
You Wasn't With Us Shootin In The Gym
living without irony, truth telling about Brooklyn's restaurant scene, re-defining a renaissance as pastime, and of course every Huang's favorite topic of discourse: immortality. This is just another day in 2012. I get why people would say... Irony is a defensive maneuver; White Brooklyn is overrated; and immortality is within our clutches because I live in 2012, but the thing we have to remember is that we will disagree with all of this in 41 days because it'll be 2013 and in this generation, that's 369 million views of Gangnam Style. As I sit here listening to Nellie Lutcher's "The Song is Ended... (But the Melody Lingers On)", reading Josh Ozersky impress the White Brooklyn experience on the whole of the borough, drinking a hot soy milk I ordered on my cell phone from my own restaurant, smoking some shit called Durban Poison x OG Kush, I realize that we have every thing and nothing all at the same time. "trapped in his father's time machine", he is an inspiring boring centrist half-black President who will never make anyone happy because the trademark of this generation is not entitlement but EXPECTATION. We are drunk with the weight of expectation. Yes, this is our generation: a hyper ambitious lot that's running around like a chicken with no head being portrayed as irreverent, nihilistic, and ironic, but actually trying really fucking hard to live up to the expectations. A place in time where cats chase dogs, girls run the world, and Brooklyn is overrated. When every thing is at our fingertips, it all seems so far away. I don't see my friends, I don't hear my friends, but no matter how much I text, tweet, email, and skype, I miss playing Marvel v. Capcom with my friends on a couch eating cookies from this farm called Pepperidge which I don't believe was actually a farm at all. I go to Katz, I go to Russ & Daughters, John's on 12th, Rao's, and read Andrew Zimmern wax poetic about Uncle Tai's, but what do I know about 1970s New York? Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. I like it better because I wasn't there. And people shit on irony, or Brooklyn, or Kobe because they weren't there with a mother fucker shooting in the gym. But we are... We're here. So own up to it mother fuckers. Broke don't look good on nobody. We want to be rich. We want to ride chrome. We want to leave our mark. So when people tell us it used to be better or Josh Ozersky tells Brooklyn it's delusional or Wampole tells you to live without irony, tell them to suck a holographic bag of dicks because it's 2012 mother fucker and we don't give a fuck, except when WE decide we do.