This blog will be presenting a four-part series examining the domination of the lit-world by elitists and their sheep-like demi-puppet followers. I can't call this crowd hipsters-- they're really not (though they pretend to be)-- so I'm calling them instead the Blandsters. This includes the lot of them; all the fakes-- from Jon Franzen to Vanity Fair's Elissa Schappell and plutocrat Rick Moody to Moody-wannabes Eggers and Bissell to Maud, Lizzie the Poet and the other yuppy-scum lit-bloggers.
I've given these zero-charisma people their own theme song.
Yuppy kids so hip and cool,
The Blandsters, The Blandsters,
Play the game, get A's in school,
The Blandsters, The Blandsters!
School for them will never end
Always being the teacher's friend,
Call them just The Blandsters.
Faces eager, noses brown
polishing apples, going down
sucking-up without a frown,
Don't ya know that they conform
Because they're The Blandsters!
Certain they can get ahead
parked beneath the publisher's desk
New thoughts from them are never found
Traveling soon from town to town
Our literature's geeky world of clowns!
la la la la la la la here they come,