Ode to the Emo

Greetings Giants of Society,

I trust that the first two weeks of this New Year has treated you like the fine debutants that you must be as you’re worthy enough to peruse my priceless thoughts. Many are those who pine for the opportunity to witness my seemingly infinite supply of literary genius, however most are found unworthy on the Higgins Sophistication Scale. So, please count yourselves lucky much like I do on a daily basis for others bad fortunes making you look like societal kings. But enough about others, let’s talk about my thoughts….

I was reminded yesterday during one of my jaunts around the common man’s cesspool (also known as the mall) of a new wave of “fashion” that is quite frankly molesting the style of America. The so called “Emo” rash of dress is perhaps the most redonkulous idea that has been expressed since the advent of the Flowbee. I cannot fathom why a normal young lad would want to turn himself not only into a skinny damsel, but a skinny damsel with Saran Wrap for jeans and shirt, hair that makes Tammy Fay Baker look human, and scarves that have patterns that would make Pink Floyd stare in awe.

Now really, folks, I implore you to seriously ask yourself if this is what our future should look like. Compounding the issue is the fact that this style of dress is accompanied by an annoying behavior of self-pity and apathy. Instead of working to overcome your problems, these Goth-lite folks cling to the mindset that they are misunderstood/judged/targeted/misfits. Well, if I decided to wear clothes so tight that let everyone know my circumcision status and whether or not I was a brief or commando person (for your reference, a true Higgins is always free from all constraints; inside AND out), and styled my hair to resemble a wet obese Marmot, then perhaps I would be rightly labeled as the village obtuse.

Finally, this lifestyle apparently requires its disciples to write dark and brooding poetry, mix it with an atrocious amount of distorted guitar sounds, and try to pass it off as art. Oh I long for the days of The Lawrence Welk Show where you would have your ears massaged with musical masterpieces from the late great Ralna English and Guy Hovis.

So, my fellow high-level homosapiens, I urge you to greatly lower your standards and help these misguided followers of Freakville. Perhaps all they need is some like yourself who will explain to them in a language they will understand that feathered hair, bandanas, tight jeans, and a dark attitude will never lead to the inner circle of Higginism.


Never judge a book by its cover – Cary Grant in The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer 1947

To dress like a schmuck is to be labeled as such. To dress among the elite of the elite is to be labeled a Higgins – E.R. Higgins 2010