ON HIPSTERS AND HUNTING

Posted: 07/11/2012 in Archery, Hunting, News
Tags: , , ,

From Realtree.com

Published by Will Brantley | June 11, 2012 | 0 comments

The Trendy Urbanite. He often refers to himself as a “hipster,” and is as foreign to our camo-wearing crowd as we are to his skinny jean crowd. Take Matt Stopera, for example. He works as an editor for BuzzFeed.com, a popular and innovative site with such ground-breaking features as the “WTF” button. Stopera, noted for his witty commentary, fits the hipster mold quite well.

Over the course of a road trip from New York to Tennessee (for Bonaroo), Stopera took in the sights, posting his photos and thoughts along the way. One of his first stops was a Cabela’s store, evidently the first he’d ever seen. Here’s how he summed that up:

“Cabela’s, otherwise known as the High Temple of Taxidermy, is a GIANT 250,000 square feet camping store 2 hours away from New York City. It’s basically the Walmart of camping equipment with A TON of dead animals. I’ve never been anywhere quite like it.”

He then went on to list “23 Things You Do at Cabela’s.” I read all 75 words (not counting repeats of the phrase “dead animal”) and detected a hint of smug smartassery. Click here to read it for yourself.

In his defense, when hipsters don’t understand something, their standard response is to mock it and feign intellectual superiority. I mean, you can’t expect Stopera to walk out of that Cabela’s, enraged at all those dead animals, and write up a post challenging us rednecks to a week of woodland survival.

But, like a big portion of the many people who commented on it, I didn’t see the intellectual superiority in Stopera’s post. On the contrary, I just saw ignorance.

I really can’t blame him for that. Stopera lives in New York City, otherwise known as the High Temple of Hipsters. I can assign that title because I lived in NYC myself for a couple summers while interning at Outdoor Life magazine in college. My apartment was down in Greenwich Village, and I fit right in. Sometimes, I’d visit the coffee shops (those are sort of like Hipster food plots) and buy myself a latte—minus the caffeinated drink, of course. All I needed was the cup for my tobacco juice.

Read the rest at Realtree.com

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