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How to Win Friends and Imitate People
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In contrast to popular opinion, the secret to being "cool"
isn't an arsenal of Kate Spades or a CD collection that rivals Dean Witter's. It isn't an SUV with still-wet paint or a price tag
rivaling that of a small yacht. Such credentials would be
superficial! Popularity is, as all things, "deeper" than
that. The true secret to popularity, the spring from which one's
innate coolness springs forth, is boredom. Witness the calculated
coolness with which one Aleck Ovensite handles class:
Suppose Aleck is plowing through derivatives during his free period. He stumbles across a rule, a thought, an epiphany waiting to happen. He realizes, quietly of course, that he is enjoying learning! The heavens tear open and the ensuing rain of math drenches Aleck not only with variables and limits, but with unmitigated, undeniable joy! Suppose now that Aleck's best bud, Rob Dovintrest, saunters up. "Sup, Aleck? Somebody's got Cruel Intentions in Mr. B's room. You busy?" Aleck certainly is busy. And, what's more, he's relishing his time with his calculator. Besides, Cruel Intentions is just a copy of a copy of a classic. Aleck is far more interested in math right now. Of course, liking his homework wouldn't be "cool." Aleck responds appropriately. "Nah, this Calc is so boring it's making me flat-line." Whew. Aleck has averted disaster. Had Rob, a card-carrying member of the Nerd Patrol, discovered Aleck's dirty little secret, Aleck would no longer have been labeled "cool." Thanks to mock derision, however, he is saved. Let us also consider Trey S. Muth. Trey is cerebrating upon the latest Dre rhyme schemes and how they mimic early Alan Ginsberg, when Aleck's friend, Rob, and Alma Eruditio approach. Trey greets his compatriots with a swift upward jerk of the chin. Rob reciprocates, and Alma smiles. Suddenly, Trey recognizes a line... "'Mine crown, my own ambition, and my queen?' Hey, I think I know that! Isn't that what Claudius said to Polonius?" "Polonius? What the <colorful bleep> is that?" Alma must support Rob's anti-intellectual remark, in spite of the worn copy of Hamlet she has stashed under her pillow. "Sounds like this, like, cheapo perfume I got at CVS once." Danger, Trey, danger! Nothing like Shakespeare to reveal the inner dork. Trey sees his party invitations, his swarms of followers, even his near-limp walking style spiral downward into nothingness...time for damage control. He runs one hand through his hair and laughs. "Just playin'! Some book I was supposed to read sometime. I dunno, I just copied somebody's answers on the test and saw it or something." That was close. Trey could have been called "literate" there. He'd better be more careful next time. They'd like you to think they don't know anything, they'd like you to think they don't want to know anything, and they'd like you to think they don't care one way or another whether Karl Marx Twain actually existed or not. Yeah, they're cool. |