Under A Roaring Ocean Covered In Darkness

Once upon a time, pre the internet, there were two kinds of smart. Book smart, and street smart. There were those who drowned themselves in scholarly pursuits, and those who struggled to keep their heads above water in the crowded Hipster Sea. Every once and a while, someone would kick on by in full form Australian crawl, choking on the water they just inhaled when they laughed at their floundering friends, and this person was the true paragon of humanity.
Someone sharing his shadow with the elusive presence of Validity.

An individual who could bounce brains with the best of them, yet still took enough time away from the counting frame to delve deeper into the subtle arts of dress, and indulge in the alterior sounds of the streets they walked upon. This was not easily achieved, and a human willing to lend themselves to the task even rarer.

Safe to say that today, with the onset of such magazine/blog/wiki culture, "knowledge" is readily available. It is a talentless act to adopt ideals, looks or apparent smarts from the plethora of texts that Generation Y seems to produce at a speed barely rivalled by pre-contraceptive birth rates. The last time something worthwhile came from these youth orientated publications i was probably unable to talk. Zines are meaningless unless your into lo-fi humour or animal cut outs, and everything else is more concerned with heralding the return of times gone by rather than embracing a little thing some of you may know, The Future.

The concept of progression seems almost mythical this day and age, self improvement concerns thrown out in the teeth of the bathwater baby. It's time to progress and it's time to embrace tomorrow. If this means you need to burn your wardrobe or spend the next two weeks pay on some good books, then so be it, because your boring and you know it.

Charles F Kettering - My interest is in the future because I am going to spend the rest of my life there