This weekend I found myself unexpectedly eating brunch at an exclusive country club, the type of establishment in which I do not typically find myself. When I was not amusing myself guessing how many people there were named Brad or watching the wait staff who were killing time until the trust fund kicks in, I was observing the other diners. It soon dawned on me that the only thing that separated their conversations from the one that was occurring at my own table was the haughty tone. As a service to my readers I present the following guide to help you skip past the Ivy League education and get right to having superficially deep discussions with people who have a Roman numeral as a suffix to their name.
- The Art of Skimming (Don’t Read This Whole Section): So much has been written about such a myriad of subjects that there is no way one can read, absorb, analyze, and carefully critique without losing valuable cigarette-smoking time. This is where your friend the caption comes in. Subscribe to The New Yorker so that you can leave the last few issues conveniently within eyesight of company. Don’t bother reading the articles. Read the captions underneath the pictures and the highlighted quotes and form an opinion based on the gist you get. Also do this with newspapers. Pretend to have read books that you only skimmed the reviews for. In no time, people will think that you’re a Harvard grad who certainly didn’t spend your college years drinking tequila shots out of the taut bellybuttons of co-eds.
- Have an Outrageous Opinion (But Not Too Outrageous! ) : While sticking to the prevailing critical opinion will be helpful, make sure to throw out a contentious judgment to throw people off your scent. Take a sacred cow to task. Refer to The White Album as “elevator music.” When asked of your tastes in art, say something along the lines of, “ten monkeys working for ten minutes will produce the entire works of Jasper Johns.” Doing this will make you appear intellectually superior because you have standards that are almost impossible to meet. Under no circumstances should you look at a Warhol and say, “so what?”
- Obscurity = Credibility: If you express an opinion about something people might possibly know about, such as Beethoven or Charles Dickens, you run the risk of them being knowledgeable on the subject and thus being able to expose your sham. Besides, Beethoven was so pedestrian. Your favorite composer in a Croatian jazz musician who recorded one album before he died. If your favorite artist works in a medium that involves paint or sculpture, you’re not getting the point. Make up a vaguely European name, slap the label ” papier mache futurist” on him or her, and you go from zero to cultured in 10 seconds.
- Fashion is a Passion: Of course, since you’ll be among a circle comprised at least partly of people as shallow as you, clothes are of the utmost importance. The trick is to dress like everyone else, but try and do it before they do (or at least convince others that you did). Of course, since not everyone is a pioneer of style, there is a trick to this part. While it may be expensive, subscribe to weekly UK music rags like NME and Melody Maker . They may be sensationalistic, gossipy, and poorly written, but you’re not buying it for literary quality. Look at the British kids in the live concert photographs. Since fashionable Americans simply dress like the Brits did six months ago. Soon you’ll be able to tell your friends that you had bangs or vertical stripes or archaic sneakers months before they did. Not only will you be seen as an individual that forged a new way, you’ll be able to stay one step ahead of the herd while still being able to be part of them. Let’s face it; you’re cooler if you like a band before someone else does, so why not with clothes? People judge you on appearances, so by being able to copycat the correct nationality, you’ll always be the hippest chameleon in your elite clique.
- Condescending Humor: Make “jokes” that are merely thinly disguised name-droppings. Try guiding the conversation so that you may make a joke about James Joyce’s Ulysses , not so much that you have anything particularly funny to say on the matter, but just to make it appear as if you are one of the handful of human beings who have successfully slogged through Ulysses . Once again, the strategy of making up names comes to our aid. You should be able to make statement like the following at a moments’ notice: “If Victor Hollogarde were any more laconic, he’d be like Burton Fisil on even more barbiturates!” Afterwards, smirk to yourself knowingly. Those in your group will laugh nervously, not wanting to seem like they don’t know who you’re talking about, their accomplishments, and personal habits. If anyone dares to ask who you’re referring to, snort loudly and look at the others in the group in a manner that says, “where did you find this one?” The trespasser will shrink like a frightened child, and you will have won the day looking like the superior pinnacle of the human race. It helps if there is a semi-sophisticated co-conspirator around to tell you in a laughing manner, “oh [your name], you’re such a cad!”
- Nothing is Any Good if Other People Like It: Under no circumstances should you agree with anyone about anything subjective. When someone expresses an opinion, interrupt them loudly and call their intelligence and credibility into question. Bill O’Reilly and Al Franken have parlayed this tactic into successful careers. Remember, for you to be superior, you have to make someone inferior. Use your façade of cerebral refinement make the other person kowtow. Nothing intellectually castrates an individual like being made to believe they have the most plebian of tastes, so work on your verbal parrying and thrusting at home and in no time you’ll be the most insufferable, and thus, most attractive person in your circle.
- Pretend to Like Radiohead: They have a pseudo-intellectual of an elf for a singer and they redefined “drone” and “boring” for the 90’s, so of course the elitists of the world cling to them as proof of their own credibility. Boring assholes seem to like them, so to gain their trust it would behoove you to borrow/steal/download a copy of Kid A (for the love of God, don’t pay for it!), make pseudo-intellectual comments about it along the lines of blah blah emotionally dead blah blah technophobia blah blah 60-minute dial tone blah blah the interchangeability of human beings blah blah contemporary angst, and so on, so others nod approvingly and grant you integrity, and then never torture yourself by attempting to listen to it all the way through again.
After you’ve mastered this, all you need a polo shirt with a Yale logo for casual functions, and you’re the newest smartest person around. With all the time you save not actually having to read or think, you can wile away your days blissfully eating spray cheese directly out of the can and watching Desperate Housewives . And you thought you needed a diploma.
By Matt Corbett