“Shadows Under Hexmouth Street” is my Joe Mitchell in Lankhmar story (mixed in with bits from my late aughties day job at an architectural preservation company).
Joe Mitchell was a 1940s New Yorker writer. That’s him over there on the left. He specialized in urban pieces about kooks and weirdos. Lankhmar’s a massive fantasy city created by Fritz Leiber. That’s it in the middle as drawn by Mike Mignola, the Hellboy guy. In the early 1970s Leiber published Our Lady of Darkness, there on the right. It wasn’t set in Lankhmar, but it featured a magic system called polisomancy. Polisomancy’s all about capturing urban elementals born from construction materials and was practiced by kooks and weirdos in cities.
My story’s about that.
Hipster’s come to be a meaningless insult. It’s become one of those vague words no one has a clear meaning for, but still a desire not to be called. A bit like what happened with the word “sentimental”.
“I freakin’ hate hipsters!” said by 42-year old exurban Ohio resident inside a Starbucks in reference to every 20-to-40 year old living in a metropolitan area.
“I freakin’ hate hipsters!” said by 27-year old Brooklyn resident about everyone who reads home design blogs.
“I freakin’ hate hipsters!” said by 31-year old Seattle resident, and home design blog reader, about home design blog readers that make fun of people who buy Ikea furniture.
Of course you want to shout, “Get that last guy! He’s a hipster!”
But really, he’s just an asshole.