Pass That Dutch

Sarah's passed the blogosphere's latest fascination to the left:

Behold, the Caesar’s Bath meme! List five things that people in your circle of friends or peer group are wild about, but you can’t really understand the fuss over. To use the words of Caesar (from History of the World Part I), “Nice. Nice. Not thrilling . . . but nice.”

How can I not participate in a invitation-only chain letter for haters? Puff, puff, give:

Spring and Summer: While I fully admit to enjoying the first 10 days of spring and the last 10 of summer, I pretty much loathe every minute in between. Now that the mercury has passed the 70 mark once, maybe twice, the streets are awash in more vapid, glistening flesh than Wild on E! They are flooded with the smiles people think they are supposed to wear. Flooded with an immediate distaste for the independent, quiet, conceptual time that winter fosters. I miss snow, sweatshirt jackets and Jameson and we haven't even hit May.

Cocaine: Don't get me wrong, I understand that New York runs on the shit; entire industries and social networks would collapse with out the ubiquitous white lines. I just don't understand why people get so psyched to drop $100 on smurf-sized baggie of mystery chemicals that won't last an hour and'll leave your throat feeling as though you drank mace. I've done it, I'll do it again (let's face facts, I hang out with the kind of art/fashion people that pride themselves on living above their means). I just don't seek it out. I'm just not impressed. Growing up, it was impossible to ignore the aura that coke has in our culture. It is the definition of a hard drug. Not only is it supposed to be hard, it's supposed to be glamorous. Of course, I always wanted to give it a try. When I finally did (in college I guess), I was stunned at how minimal the effects were. Maybe it's that my body doesn't need uppers (any friend can corroborate, I'd trade a couple ritalin for a klonopin with a smile). Maybe it's that I'm a pussy and the drip makes me tear up and gag. Either way, coke aint my candy.

The Lower East Side: As much as I try to ignore the city's provincialism, and out of principle try not to frame my hood as superior to any other, I've got to say to all the Lower East Siders: Max Fish is played, and you spend 80% of your salaries on spaces smaller than closets. Why all the attitude?

The Smiths: I know, I know, you can deal with my distaste for cocaine, and my disgust for LES elitism, but how dare I infringe on the last bit of your holy trinity: Moz. Well, sorry, I never liked to be miserable in high school, I was angry instead.

Larry Clark and Terry Richardson: Two words: Victim Photography.

Honorable Mentions: Guinness, Matthew Barney, Interpol.

It's cashed, time to repack. I'm passing it to Etienne, Paige and Mick. Careful, it's hot.