ipsters." Can one even use the word properly without a voice dripping with disdain? Once a term of respect, 'hipster' has recently been co-opted as an (ironic!) insult, a catchall term for those, as Robert Lanham's Hipster Handbook defines it, "who [possess] tastes, social attitudes, and opinions deemed cool by the cool." But if it's so cool to be a hipster, why all the backlash?

The second part of the Handbook's definition provides a possible illumination. "The Hipster walks among the masses in daily life but is not a part of them and shuns or reduces to kitsch anything held dear by the mainstream." Kitsch aestheticizes what once had a semblance of genuine meaning—Jesus dashboard figurines, Poison T-shirts, oversized plastic sunglasses—and, by altering its context, empties the object of the aura it once held. Lanham uses 'kitsch' in a specific sense (for little in modern culture isn't aestheticized to one degree or another). There is a political dimension—a sort of hierarchy set up between those that aestheticize and those that are aestheticized. There is little defense against such blasphemy. Except fighting fire with fire.

What tomes such as Lanham's (alongside anti-hipster forces in universities, concert venues, and the Internet) effectively do is aestheticize the Hipster. Kitsch eats itself (and can Ironized Hipsters be far behind?). Objectification and categorization are methods of power, a way to collate infinite permutations of existence into groups with rules and codes. Categorization makes dominance of nature possible through technology; with hipsters it deflates the cooler-than-thou persona so inimical to many.

Thus the hipster lifestyle is reduced to a pose, a pretense hated by supposed anti-elitists. "You graduated from a liberal arts school whose football team hasn't won a game since the Reagan administration… You have kissed someone of the same gender and often bring this up in casual conversation… You own records put out by Matador, DFA, Definitive Jux, Dischord, Warp, Thrill Jockey, Smells Like Records, and Drag City"—items of a hipster costume, worn to appear "cool." As the Cool never try to be cool, the internal contradictions of Hipsterdom are exposed and once again we are free to live in a social environment free of trivial hierarchical distinctions.

Yet, it doesn't quite work this way. Naming gives the object a certain power too. It defines the method of discourse around the object—Hipster Or Not? And this is where the pitched battle against hipsters becomes insidiously irrelevant. As is every genre distinction, 'Hipster' is far too vague and broad to have any semblance of essential meaning, and hipster witch-hunts are easily exposed as little more than the thinly disguised airing of petty personal insecurities. This would be easy enough to ignore if it didn't bring down many of the best parts of modern culture (especially youth culture) down with it.

A recent issue of the Chicago weekly Red Eye features an interview with the band Pelican. The entire interview revolves around figuring out the appropriate social circle for the group—questions involve talk of critical acclaim, audience make up ("indie rockers AND metal heads!"), and genre terms. The music is largely ignored by the interviewer. Although the word 'hipster' is never used (the hideous 'scenester' is, however), it lurks in the background, casting a shadow over the entire article. It's an attempt at a sort of cultural shorthand, playing Hip or Not with some people who probably just want to make music. And so the whole endeavor is called into question if Pelican can be exposed as Hip.

Similarly, certain tastes are reduced to kitsch by anti-hipster forces: Rothko, Delillo's White Noise, Puma shoes, thrift store t-shirts, and records put out by Matador, DFA, Definitive Jux, Dischord, Warp, Thrill Jockey, Smells Like Records, and Drag City. Never mind if the painting is emotionally stirring, the novel revelatory, the shoes comfortable, the t-shirts cheap, or the records good—they are no longer qualitatively judged. They can be avoided or ignored as parts of a pose, as mere accessories for shallow white kids with trust funds.

To get out of this spiral of youth culture laziness and negativity, simply never, ever use the Word. Irony is an important tool, but it can also be a crutch. Genuine passion is infinitely more compelling than battles of who's got the more detached viewpoint, whether that passion is about Bret Michaels or Dizzee Rascal. After all, the true Anti-Hipster is the one who doesn't waste their time with this sort of claptrap.