Gun-totin', Chronic-smokin' Hearse Initiator (ludickid) wrote,
Gun-totin', Chronic-smokin' Hearse Initiator
ludickid

He's just a stereotype, he drinks his Boone's Farm

As longtime readers, friends, and people who have to sit next to me in bars know, I hate stereotyping. As longtime r., f., and p. who have to s.n.t.m. in b. also know, I myself engage in near-constant stereotyping, much to the chagrin of my brain.

Here's an example. On my way back from St. Paul in the zippy little rental I acquired at the Mpls. airport, I found myself cruising alongside a dude in an old beater. He's youngish, maybe mid- to-late-20s, big guy, shaved head, lumberjack beard tied with rubberbands near the bottom a la Rob Zombie, and traveling with a hip gothy-looking girl who bore a slight resemblance to tamisevens. (I was able to notice all this because there was a huge traffic backup near Wisconsin Dells and we were just sitting next to each other, stalled, for about 10 minutes.) And there's two elements to his old beater I find slightly incongruous: on his back window -- the only decoration on his whole car -- there's a huge, banner-style Nine Inch Nails sticker; and, on top of the car, strapped to the roof, is a whole bunch of canoeing gear. He and his girl (wife? friend? sister?) were clearly on their way back from a canoeing trip to Wisconsin Dells.

Now, I don't really get NIN. I don't like them very much and I never really saw their particular appeal. (Possibly prettykate would be able to explain away this whole entry, but she doesn't read my LJ and at any rate she just had a birthday and went to France, so I'm sure she has better things to talk about.) But to my unfortunately stereotype-prone mind, the kind of person who likes Nine Inch Nails -- certainly the type of person who likes them SO MUCH that they put a three-foot-wide sticker on their back window to show how much they like them -- is not also the kind of person who likes going on canoeing trips. I mean, I'm obviously wrong, here, because the proof was right there in front of my eyes, but it's hard for me to picture a guy listening to "Fist Fuck" or "The Beauty of Being Numb" and then saying 'Hey, honey, you want to drive up to the Dells, do some canoeing? Maybe hit the Tommy Bartlett Water-Ski Fun Show?"

But who am I to judge? No one. I contain multitudes. I spent half of yesterday talking to myself in the car in a Russian accent*. I have no moral position from which to ask impertinent questions. You go, wrestler-lookin' NIN-fan canoeist!

*: For some reason, the cigarette lighter in my rental car was disabled, so I couldn't listen to my iPod on the way home, and thus it was either silence or religious radio most of the way home. In one of the latter cases, I heard a guy from the Institute for Creationist Research talk about how the big bang can't be true, because all the stars look exactly the same as they would have thousands of years ago -- there are no young galaxies. (How do we know that's true? Because he said so! On the radio!) That 'supports' the creationist 'theory' that God made the universe exactly as it is now, (a) "for His own glory" -- some ego on God!, and (b) to amuse mankind. (Apparently we would be unamused by new stars.) YOU CAN BELIEVE THIS MAN, PEOPLE! HE IS A SCIENTIST!
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