In light of the NewSouthBooks edition of Huckleberry Finn, replacing the n-word in its many usages throughout the text with "slave", Gothamist has a great article about Richard Grayson's satirical hipster-ized version, noteably replacing NewSouthBooks' "slave" with hipster. A taste:
"Jim was monstrous proud about it, and he got so he wouldn't hardly notice the other hipsters. Hipsters would come miles to hear Jim tell about it, and he was more looked up to than any hipster in that country. Strange hipsters would stand with their mouths open and look him all over, same as if he was a wonder. Hipsters is always talking about witches in the dark by the kitchen fire; but whenever one was talking and letting on to know all about such things, Jim would happen in and say, "Hm! What you know 'bout witches?" and that hipster was corked up and had to take a back seat.
Jim always kept that five-center piece round his neck with a string, and said it was a charm the devil give to him with his own hands, and told him he could cure anybody with it and fetch witches whenever he wanted to just by saying to it; but he never told what it was he said to it. Hipsters would come from all around there and give Jim anything they had, just for a sight of that piece; but they wouldn't touch it, because the devil had had his hands on it."
"During a spina bifida corrective procedure at twenty-one weeks in utero, Samuel thrusts his tiny hand out of the surgical opening of his mother’s uterus. As the doctor lifts his hand, Samuel reacts to the touch and squeezes the doctor’s finger. As if testing for strength, the doctor shakes the tiny fist. Samuel held firm. At that moment, I took this “Fetal Hand Grasp” photo"
, snowI can't sleep because some rando roofing company just set up enough ladders against my house to storm the Bastille. Thanks for the heads up, landlord.
Is it weird that, since I have absolutely no clue what they could be doing, my mind immediately imagined them painting some big, red letter on the side of our house? That, or they could very well be posting an over-sized novelty eviction notice. I blame no sleep for these unlikely and bizarre conclusions.
This reminds me of a time in college when a friend and I roamed around Christopher St., pretending we spoke only French and German respectively and trying to get directions to the metro from pedestrians. You wouldn't believe the number of phone numbers two fake foreigners can get wandering around without a grasp of the English language in the West Village.
