My bullshit detector broke

I watched Richard Linklater’s “Slacker” on DVD a few nights ago, curious to see it again after living in Austin for five years. I’d seen it twice before, in Nebraska, so I watched it this time not for its content, but for a chance to check out the landscape of a city nine years before I lived in it. It didn’t fill me with envy, to say the least. Sure, there’s lots more traffic now, and a lot of bars and clubs used as locations are now Starbucks, etc., but is 1989/1990/1991 Austin somehow aesthetically superior to 2005 Austin? I have absolutely no authority to answer this question, having only lived in Austin since 2000, but I have a sneaking suspicion I’m right, so I’m going to answer the question anyway. The answer is no. Old Austin is not better than New Austin. And, judging solely from the predominance of white-man dreadlocks, horrible fashion choices, and lack of hygiene on display by many cast members, I’m going to have to say that New Austin is hugely superior to Old Austin. But that’s because I’m part of the problem, right? I’m one of the assholes who had the audacity to move here and help ruin things for a lot of aging hippies and punk rockers who never leave their fucking houses anyway. Yep, I’m one of those pieces of shit who destroyed this odd little college town, poisoning its feisty independent spirit, helping to turn it into, may God have mercy on my soul, a MEDIUM-SIZED CITY!???&*!!!! What a complete piece of shit I am. How dare I? How dare I, indeed?
In all fairness, it wasn’t “Slacker” that caused this irritation, but an extra on the disc, a ten-minute trailer for a documentary about a beloved restaurant/bar near UT’s campus, Les Amis, that is now a Starbucks. I can feel sympathy pains. I hate that independent, Mom and Pop stores are dropping like flies, Wal-Marts and Best Buys and Starbucks and Barnes and Nobleses taking their places. I fear that in 100 years the entire Northern half of the U.S. will be one continuous strip mall, from coast to coast, and the entire Southern half will be a parking garage for the strip mall. But that’s not what this documentary, or at least this trailer, was really about. Sure, that was its supposed pretense, but the utter fucking whinefest about Les Amis’ demise was really a bunch of aging hipsters’ crybaby tantrums about not being 23 anymore. Boo hoo, this bar I really liked is not there anymore, though even if it was still there, I’m too fucking old to be there since it’s located two blocks from the fucking university. Boo hoo, I have a beer gut, I’m balding, and I have teenage kids. Boo hoo, I’m not fucking cool anymore. That must mean that Austin sucks now. Boo hoo, I sit on my couch, smoke pot, and watch TV all night, every night. That must mean there are no more bands that are any good, no more clubs worth a shit, nothing left in Austin to do. This town’s been picked clean by scavengers from California and the Yankee states (a common complaint that makes no sense. In the five years I’ve spent in Austin, most of the out-of-state license plates I’ve seen are either from New Mexico, Oklahoma, Louisiana, or, would you believe, Nebraska. The next person who bitches about Californians ruining Austin should picket in front of my apartment. I see at least ten Nebraska plates for every California plate). I’m sure every city has a tired group of morons ranting about how cool it used to be. “You should have been here in 1926. This town was really somethin’ then.” In Austin, it’s an epidemic. In my opinion, a city is defined by its people and its landscape, not its places of commerce. P.S. Louis Black is an insufferable blowhard and the Austin Chronicle sucks.

Here’s some more idiocy. My wife received this piece of junk mail yesterday, junk being the operative word. I quote:
“If ‘sexy high-heel shoes’ are four of your favorite words…
If you believe a girl can never have too many handbags, dresses, t-shirts, or lacy underthings…
If you know that shopping is one of life’s most fabulous pleasures, then…
YOU ARE VERY LUCKY!
Announcing Lucky.
The Magazine About Shopping.”
I’m not going to get into why this is so terribly revolting, because it’s fucking obvious, but if this sounds like a great magazine to you, I hope your death is terrifying, painful, and slow.

The idiocy never stops. I was in Fredericksburg, Texas yesterday with my wife, her sister, and her parents, so her dad could do business with a trucker (he designs truck trailers). First, we went to Enchanted Rock, which is awesome. I won’t go into why this enormous rock formation is awesome, for fear of sounding too much like some Zen-hippie-glory of nature asshole, but it’s great. Fredericksburg’s Main Street is another story. The town was founded in the 1800s as a largely German settlement, and the architecture is predominantly Germanic. This means Main Street is historically interesting, pretty, but full of tourists and touristy shops selling touristy knick-knacks. There is even a store that sells Christmas stuff. Year-round. I find this unsettling. Also, I hate knick-knacks. However, this wasn’t what disturbed me. What did disturb me was the amount of pro-vigilante gun violence knick-knacks nestled amid the folksy, cutesy items. Examples: In a candy store, predominantly filled with kids, stood a rack of jokesy bumper stickers. The most prominently displayed sticker featured a man lying dead in the street, covered in blood, another man standing on his porch, smoking rifle in hand. The sticker read: NEIGHBORHOOD WATCH. At a coffeehouse/smoothie/sandwiches shop furnished with folksy Old West décor, a real gun, albeit trigger-less, hung above the register with the legend: WE DON’T CALL 911. Is the tiny city of Fredericksburg, tourist trade notwithstanding, really such a hotbed of crime? What is wrong with these people?
In other idiotic news, there will be no new posts for a few days, because I am going back home to attend my father’s wedding.

Listening to: Lou Reed – Berlin
Roxy Music – Country Life
I guess I’m just in the mood for Germanic-influenced art rock tonight, possibly influenced by my trip to Fredericksburg. “Both albums are the aural equivalent of Phil Spector, Kurt Weill, and Rainer Werner Fassbinder playing got your nose” – Robert Christgau, The Village Voice*
Also, I like the partially nekkid ladies on the cover of the Roxy Music album. Tee hee.
Silver Jews - Starlite Walker

Currently reading: The Woman Chaser by Charles Willeford

*not an actual quote, but Robert Christgau is almost as pompous as Louis Black