A few weeks ago, my friends and classmates at Regent College in Vancouver were taking a test. No, it wasn’t a Koine Greek quiz, or an exam on Sacramental Ontology. Rather, it was an online multiple choice test geared towards a very important question: ‘are you a Christian hipster?’

It turns out that I –– a middle class theology grad student that occasionally wears Nudie Jeans, listens to Broken Social Scene derivatives, drinks boatloads of fair-trade coffee and likes to sharpen his “sardonic wit on the whetstone of apathy” (to quote hipster hero Kalle Lasn) –– am known, to the wider Christian world, as a Christian Hipster: like this guy (below).

Moreover, according to the author of the blog and upcoming book Hipster Christianity Brett McCracken, this is not a good thing.

This coming from a guy who twice features Sigur Ros in his ‘top 100 worship songs of all time.’ (Other notables include Explosions in the Sky, Sufjan Stevens, Radiohead, and Coldplay. Twice). He also features a ‘ recommended artists/thinkers list’ which includes Terrence Malick and Heidegger. If this isn’t an example of the pot calling the kettle a skinny jeans wearing sellout, I don’t know what is.

Honestly, I’m not sure whether to call him a hypocrite, or a man after my own heart.

His chosen topic of discourse, however, does present an interesting conundrum: to what degree have you or I or we as young people sold out our beliefs and values to become more noticeable, more popular, and more “authentic”?

It’s something I should probably ask myself more often. So when his book comes out Aug 1, I’ll try to find myself a copy. Till then, I’ll order another Grande dark roast, push play on The National, and open up one of my well-worn Chuck Klosterman books, just hoping some cute hipster girl will notice how cool my jeans are.

Question for discussion: aspiring to be a ‘cool Christian’ – bad? awesome? really awesome? go!

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Every weekend, I’m going to try to post a quick, off the cuff list of things going on in the world of pop culture, and my reactions to them. Or something like that. Here we go, week #1:

1 – Why aren’t there Vampires in the Bible? Will Smith is involved in a project which believes there should be. His next project sees him playing “the original bad boy,” Cain, in The Legend of Cain, featuring the story of Cain and Abel, but “with a vampirific twist.” From the book that brought you angels of death, evil spirits, demons, and the Devil himself, it’s a simple question, doctor:
why no vampires? This question has bothered me for some time. Thanks, Fresh Prince, for helping me resolve this pressing issue, though your reputation of being the go-to family friendly action hero might suffer a little as your film and subsequent career will be no doubt blacklisted amongst the entire Christian right.

2 – How do you make the children of an entire city cry? Two words: ‘South Beach’

3 – Watched Despicable Me the other night. Actually laughed at a fart joke. Somebody please get on a bus, come to Vancouver, find me at Starbucks, and bitch slap me. I deserve it. The movie was full of cliches and cutesy, shameless appeals to children, and still, I kinda liked it.

4 – How come nobody invites me over for Rockband parties anymore? Is the Rockband phase over? (blog entry on this very idea coming soon!)

5 – After listening to a world-class pianist perform this piece by Claude Debussy, I was drenched with a sadness at how far our addiction to angsty, auto-tuned pop music has ruined our ability to appreciate the truly beautiful. Give it a try.

p.s. “what’s your favorite planet?…. Mines the sun. It’s like the king of planets…. when that thing burns out we’re all gonna be dead.” (confused? click the link above – ‘its a simple question’)

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Back in December, I read my favorite writer’s new book, Eating the Dinosaur. There I hoped to find another round of hilariously insightful material as was present in his earlier ‘low culture manifesto’ Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs . As memory serves, it didn’t live up to the hype. But I picked it up again the other day to reread his essay on Canned Laughter, or laugh tracks, and what they say about us poor, insecure morons that watch entire episodes of Two and a Half Men because we’re just. that. bored.

This essay alone was worth the price of admission. Not only does he comment on how laugh tracks have infected our daily conversations and relationships, but he even breaks down the formula for pretty much every Friends episode ever made, which is pretty awesome. As well, he explains that every time you hear a laugh track, at least one of the people laughing is probably dead, which is creepy, but not as creepy as the fact that we need signals to tell us when to laugh at Seinfeld. Here’s a couple of quotes for you to chew on:

“When paying for food in Leipzig, I was struck by how much of my daily interaction was punctuated by laughter that was totally detached from what I was doing. I would buy some beer and cookies and give the clerk a twenty-euro note; inevitably, the clerk would ask if I had exact change, because Germans are obsessed with both exactness and money. I would reach into my pocket and discover I had no coins, so I would reply, “Um-heh heh heh. No. Sorry. Ha! Guess not.” I made these noises without thinking. Every single time, the clerk would just stare at me stoically. It had never before occurred to me how often I reflexively laugh; only in the absence of a response did I realize I was laughing for no reason whatsoever. It somehow felt comfortable.

Now that I’m back in the U.S., I notice this all the time: People half-heartedly chuckle throughout most casual conversations, regardless of the topic. It’s a modern extension of the verbalized pause, built by TV laugh tracks. Everyon in America has three laughs: a real laugh, a fake real laugh, and a “filler laugh” they use during impersonal conversations. We have been trained to connect conversation with soft, interstitial laughter. It’s our way of showing the other person that we understand the context of the interaction, even when we don’t.

This is not the only reason Germans think Americans are retarded, but it’s definitively one of them.

(p 166)

“It’s possible the reason people in New York laugh at everything is because they’re especially polite, but that seems pretty unlikely. A better explanation is that New York is the most mediated city in America, which means its population is the most media-savvy––and the most media-affected––populace in the country. The more media someone consumes (regardless of who they are or where they live), the more likely they are to take their interpersonal cues from external, nonhuman sources.
One of the principle functions of mass media is to make the world a more fathomable reality–– in the short term, it provides assurance and simplicity. But this has a long-term, paradoxical downside. Over time, embracing mas media in its entirety makes people more confused and less secure. The laugh track is our best example. In the short term, it affirms that the TV program we’re watching is intended to be funny and can be experienced with low stakes. It takes away the unconscious pressure of understanding context and tells the audience when they should be amused.
But because everything is laughed at in the same way (regardless of value), and because we all watch TV with the recognition that this is mass entertainment, it makes it harder to deduce what we think is independently funny. As a result, Americans of all social classes compensate by living like bipedal Laff Boxes: We mechanically laugh at everything, just to show that we know what’s supposed to be happening. We get the joke, even if there is no joke.
Is this entirely the fault of laugh tracks? Nay. But canned laughter is a lucid manifestation of an anxious culture that doesn’t know what is (and isn’t) funny.” (p 174)

“Build a machine that tells people when to cry. That’s what we need. We need more crying.”

(175)

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This summer, Inspiration Cruises is offering you the chance of a lifetime: to embark on a cruise, to Alaska. However, instead of being entertained by the usual hypnotists and Elton John impersonators, you get the chance to cruise with a Michael W. Smith impersonator. And who better to impersonate early 90′s Michael W. Smith than 2010 Michael W. Smith? Imagine the possibilities.

It’s a well known fact that all Christian Hipsters hold a secret love for Mr. Smith, having been reared on his Go West Young Man album. I can still sing along with every word to ‘Place in this World.’ Indulging in one night of MWS nostalgia at a concert is one thing. However, attending a cruise with daily Smith concerts and meet and greets would be decidedly different. A part of me would love to hang with this guy for a week, reminiscing about the 80′s and figuring out what it’s like to be a Christian pop superstar.

Unfortunately, I believe my credibility as a Hipster would take a serious hit from such a trip. I would have to explain that it was for purely ‘ironic’ reasons, though I’m not entirely sure what that would mean. Can you eat at a buffet, ironically?

I’m not sure I could convince my peers of the benefits of utter indulgence in not only in a hedonistic lifestyle dressed up as ‘Christian’ because of mandatory Chapel and bible studies, but also its adoring praise and of a massively entertaining CCM superstar. … .. Pass.

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