New Emp
From this day forward, Emp House is on Dodecatuple-Secret Probation.
I am dead.
Ballkicks: (+392 / -180)
Posts: 2981 (0.44)
Reg. Date: Dec 2001
Location: Ithaca, NY
Gender: Male |
(Originally posted on: 09-14-04 12:37:07 AM)
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Hi everybody! It's great to be back here on the INTL, and it's wonderful to be in New York, too. During all that time I was gone, I've been busy sharpening my hurricane-related observational humor and trying desperately to find hip emo friends in Ithaca so we can make sarcastic remarks with each other and drink coffee and smoke and LiveJournal together because it's cool. (Update on that: Mission accomplished!)
Now, I know a lot of you all are skeptical about the prospects of me coming back to the INTL. And that's reasonable, considering I've personally ruined a lot of your lives. But remember the good times we had. Like when a Mo Rocca fanjournal crowned me an emo god. Or when I pretended to be nice and boring and people believed it. Or when I tried to sell Brittany on eBay. Those were damn good times!
For my opening salvo to you all, I have prepared a brief photologue. See, I recently attended a musical concert, and while waiting for the show to start, I killed time by taking photos of my emokomrades. Here are the results. Their narrated, so you can understand it better.
I must say, that 80s-style, Flashdance-chic white headband uniquely compliments those thick rims.
This guy was here with some indie-music comrades pretty early, and right off the bat, I knew he was the Alpha Emo. Honestly, I felt the urge to prostrate before him and recant my sins.
Box glasses, though otherwise wore the clothes of a normal.
"Emo? Why yes, I am emo!"
Thick glasses and converses with shorts and no socks. Longish black hair flowing back on a quasi-oriental. This is some solid emo.
Now, a lot of you might think that this is a misfire, that ol' Emp made a mistake, hit "capture" too soon, and is now bullshitting you by trying to feed you what is obviously not an emo. Well, this would be a tough call for a lot of guys, but I had it down easy.
For starters, no, a strait-laced country boy wasn't attending this concert on the green to see what all the ruckus was about.
Although not exactly discernable from this photograph, this man had the thickest rims here. Disregard the crew-cut (yes, by the way, his stern countenance matched the haircut): this is a clear example of extreme irony. Besides, would West Point have the physique of a vain, mentally-disturbed 14-year-old girl? This kid is definitely emo.
(For those of you who couldn't tell from just this photo, note that I also had the benefit of observing his awkward, anti-social, internally-depressed behaviour at this affair.)
(Update This kid's in my government class, and he makes a point to sit next to me each lecture. Is he gay or something? Help please. :-()
I had to take another photo of my favourite subject. Here, we can clearly see his strikingly beautiful emo sweetheart, clad in an ironic top and powerful Converses. And just look at their matching androgynous haircuts! Clearly, these two deserve to be on the cover of every magazine ever.
Sorry for the poor shot, but suffice it to say this girl was emo. She had thick frames, and, appearing to be some sort of mulatto, a tres emo haircut. Her mismatched clothes, including red sneakers and red suspenders, serve as more evidence to the fact.
Thick rims, low converses, ironic polkadotted skirt (brings a certain Brittany to mind), and hair like Janet Reno. Also, very milky skin, no doubt from being self-sequestered inside windowless rooms, listening to the same Bright Eyes track six over and over again while crying just a little each time.
You are emo.
Thick rims are a check, pink low converses are a check too. Not much on ironic or faux-preppy fashion, however. And a somewhat reasonable haircut. As the photo indicates, this girl has attitude. But that's still not enough for her to escape the emo orbit. She's not yet an individual--she's still an emo.
Can't hear what they're saying? Allow me to fill in the bubbles.
Emoboy: So I'm thinking about writing my graduate thesis!
Emogirl: On what?
Emoboy: My sheer intellectual power and good taste!
Emogirl: Thus I am yours forever!
Emoboy: [takes a small drag and coughs]
(N.B. -- the girl had wire rims, and they're both wearing sandals. However, the smoking, the hair, and the dual emo-association stick them both on the emo side of the border.)
YEEEEEEEE-HAW! Now that's an emo! This crazy bastard was one of my best finds of the afternoon.
He is a highly typical specimen. The haircut, the wire frames, the fucking converses, the polo shirt with the sunglasses clinging to the collar, and the the airband and bracelets to which he attaches meaning deeper than you or I or any other mere mortal could comprehend. (Just kidding of course, I can still comprehend the depths of his meaning.)
And I was so fortunate to get him in such a distinctive pose, a stance of hesitation and faux-apathy, a position of palpable unease and anxiety.
Who wouldn't care to spend an evening in a cigarette parlour with this man, delving into why his ex-girlfriend should take him back, or how he bought his watch at the mall, which he went to once with his ex-girlfriend? Or maybe it wasn't that same particular mall, but he did go to a mall with her once, and that's what counts.
ohhhhh yeah
--
After taking photos of all the emos I could reasonably capture, I still had some space left in my camera, so I took some photos of some guys on a stage.
(On this song, the fat one started bouncing up and down while the anaemic one chattered about birdhouses.)
That's all for now! Stay tuned for next week, when I take more photos of emos and make fun of them while being an emo myself! Good night!
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