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Toward a Hipper Ricochet
Folks, Ricochet has an image problem. The political Right has long been seen as a bunch of old fuddy-duddies who wouldn’t know a B3 (blah, blah, blah) from a BIH (burn in hell). If you were young and hip, would you want to join such a square web site? Bro, get real!
So what we’ve got to do is change our image. I am hipper and doper than you, so I can tell you what we need to do.
First, we need to adopt hipper names and pseudonyms. She, your new Ricochet name is Cis. Ms. RightAngles, you’re now Ms. LeftAngles. Nanda Pajama-Tantrum, you need something shorter and snappier, perhaps The Pajama Man. Susan, you’re now Quinn the Eskimo. Kate, you’re Shaneka Brown. RushBabe, you’re The CheBabe. Arahant, from now on you’re merely Jose. Front Seat Cat, you’re Shotgun Cat. My new name is I’ve Got a Tat on My Neck. Midget Faded Rattlesnake and Boss Mongo, you two can keep your names. They’re cool enough as it is.
The rest of you: Come up with your own hip name. I can’t do everything for you.
Next, we need to update our language. Right now it smacks of nerdiness and linear thinking. We can do better than that, posse, perhaps by gratuitously inserting the phrase “I’m hip to your groove” every now and then. Wait, that sounds like it comes right out of the sixties. I’m going to have to Google this.
Ok, I’m back again. Here’s a cool phrase I found: “Bible, my squad is phat and faddy.” Translation for the squares: “Truthfully, my friends are hot and and up-to-date.” So from now on, please insert “Bible, my squad is phat and faddy” every now and then. If it matters to you where in your discourse you place the hip phrase, that only means you’re still thinking in a linear mode. Chill out, squad.
In the Ricochet biographies, you can no longer say that you’re from Kansas or Iowa. That’s Flyover Country, guys. From now on we’re from San Fran, La La Land, or Tribeca.
We also need to change our avatars. Here’s a photo of an anonymous hipster, suitably androgynous. We can all use it until we can 
come up with new and hip avatars of our own.
Listen, it’s not like I’m asking you to get a tat, wear your hair in a bun, or sport a pork pie hat—though if my suggestions in this post don’t work, you may have to do those things.
In the meantime, if we put into effect my suggestions, Ricochet will be attracting crowds of Millennials, Gen Z’s, Centennials, Bicentennials, and Nanocentennials. Our site, Bible, will then be phat and faddy.
If you can think or other ways to attract the young and cool crowd, I’d like to hear them, though I seriously doubt that you’re as hip as I am, so your suggestions will probably be as square as you are. (If you doubt this, look at the clothes you’re now wearing.)
Endnote: As usual, I submitted this post to my wife Marie for her approval. She said, “Kent, it’s not all that clever.” I think she says things like that to crush my spirit.
Published in General
My lawn, not his lawn.
Don’t tell my mom tho.
Glad you said that one, Gary. Although, I have occasionally done it with guys whose hair was only slightly shorter than mine. The best reaction was this guy working in a restaurant in Traverse City. He started to apologize, “Well, yeah, I know I should…” and then he looked at me and really saw me, “Hey, wait a minute!” It’s always great for a laugh.
Another time I walked into the local 7-11, and there was a couple at the register. The guy had long hair and a beard, so I said, “Get a haircut, hippy.” He turned around ready to be offended, and instead was rolling on the floor. His wife said, “You two could be twins!”
Still, I’ll leave it for you to tell Kent.
Me and ma boy @kentforrester are from the same dope Hipster Heaven (well close – Tigard v Beaverton). I’m down with all the foodie haunts around named after parts of the house. The Screen Door, The Fireside, Irving St Kitchen. We should come up with a hot new soup stop and call it The Toilet Seat. Whaddya think?
Gary, your comment is so non-controversial that I think you’re safe, for the time being, from the Ricochet crowds who usually want your scalp.
When Quinn the Eskimo gets you . . . nope.
@quinntheeskimo, if we’re going to keep mentioning, we might as well do a life check on his account.
Given my lack of hair, it would be difficult to get my scalp.
BTW, what my new hipper name be?
Susan, I’m perplexed (my usual state these days). Why is the entire sentence, except for the last word, in italics? And, what does the sentence mean? And what does “nope” mean?
What’s going on, Susan? The OPer wants to know.
Reagan’s Razor
Gary the Gangsta. Doesn’t make a lot of sense, but it’s sorta hip-hoppy, it alliterates, and it almost fits your last name.
I have been down with my bad self since dirt, daddy-oh, so I’m already too cool for most of your advice.
I will, however, be even more assiduous about using proper punctuation. I know the kids appreciate that.
You are now FlyBoy Slim. Fo’ sheezy. my neezy.
I love it! It is positive and optimist, without reflexively attacking Trump.
My avatar on Facebook is Trump’s name surrounded with a red circle, and red slash (🚫). I think that that avatar on Ricochet would be needlessly incendiary.
Any other suggestions for a new name for me?
Also, should I change my avatar from a picture of me to the classic smiling picture of Reagan in a cowboy hat?
Not cool to mention Reagan on the street, yo.
How about “Flounder?”
Kent you are a gifted humor writer.
Why thank you, Ms. Angles.
Actually I kind of like you perplexed. It was a play on the lyrics–When Quinn the Eskimo gets here. . . I threatened he/she gets you. Clearly too subtle . . .
“Nope” was no, I am not hip. I like me just the way I am.
I don’t really see how my pseudonym could be any hipper.
I suggest we also add a “How do you do, fellow kids?” banner to the home page.
Hip is being ahead of the curve (think AirBnB and/ or WheelTug for example) because that is where you live – 24/7. It does not mean that you have to forget all forms of punctuation and investing.
Speaking of which, recent field tests indicate that younger women are discovering that dudes who know a thing or two about life and who can do a thing or two with their hands are hipper than those who don’t/ can’t/ won’t.
you limp walk cuz it’s hip
yeah, you kids are looking so fine
I do it cuz it’s hip too
yeah, because I broke mine
Get a haircut, and get a real job. Sometimes when dealing with juveniles that were breaking curfew I’d tell them; Go home and read a book, and no kid, Hustler is not a book.
https://youtu.be/Adz1aWRsDw8
Thanks for the laughs.
I paid for the Marshall Plan!
I have a zero scaped lawn. Takes no water. It’s not cool to rape the earth man.
Don’t let the old lady harsh your mellow or splat your mojo. Word.
PITizens can ignore because they already know this, but I met George Thorogood one night when he was playing in Chicago and he spent his break with me at my table telling me about Tai Chi!
How quaint. It’s “grrl” power.
Yes, they become you and obscure the real you.
So I suppose those of us who were “squares” the first time it was hip to be hip (I was so square I wore button front shirts, creased slacks, and leather-soled shoes in high school in the 1970’s) are hopelessly doomed forever?