Well, it’s an allegory really, probably, and it’s all about nice young individuals who wander in to college towns. It’s ‘self-discovery’ in their eyes, you see. And, these nice young folk show up, and he’s bored with himself and simultaneously inept socially, and his mousy little ‘new best friend’ is more of the same, who is so hollow that her default-mode name-dropping sounds like someone gargling a phone book. Anyway, Mopey Boy and Sad Girl show up here in Classic Town, looking for ‘individuality.’ But Our Man is all in disguise really, all got up as artiste, because his baggage ticket has bigger things writ on it. Historical Inevitability... And he has this baggage, and his baggage is in the form of his Pose and his Need. But what nobody can figure out about Mopey Boy is not the Pose, but the Need. I mean, here he is, a bohemian brooder on the outside, or something, and he has his company, who are as solicitous as he, to a point that faileth human understanding given that they are following a banal life script in the long run... His forays into ‘ironic t-shirts’ and ‘minimal rock’ notwithstanding; and she, touting bad poetry immodestly with art school seriousness... But their true collective baggage is vapidity itself, pursuing individuality by adopting already-stale clichés, unbeknownst to them. Ironies ripped from the golden teeth of ironies... None can argue that their projected, desperate need to be unique, as stated, can be any more accurately interpreted as an equally desperate need to join and be accepted.
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