Look at These Fucking Hipsters

Oh, boy, I can't wait until Gawker sinks its teeth into this NYT article about the death of "downtown artist" Dash Snow. My friend D suggested the following alternate lede:

They were the Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald of their moment ...

Do these people sound like the silliest group of fops you've heard of recently? I mean, the "Hamster" thing, and the guy's art in general, is sort of interesting, but the artists' obsessions with themselves are decidedly less so. And the NYT can't decide what it needs to do here. They desperately want to make a myth, but don't want to be seen as "irresponsible" for glorifying a junkie. Then there's the matter of his illustrious family. Attention must be paid!

This was my favorite part:

“It was really intense,” recalled Ms. Snow, whose divorce from Dash was finalized this summer, though she remained close to him to the end. “We were all really high, and there were concerts. It was like a whole other world, an intense moment, all these people with paper, piles of Yellow Pages, no air or ventilation and fumes everywhere. We were already so drunk. The iPods kept getting lost in the paper.” Three days later — with no clue how it happened — she woke up in Berlin.

Uh-huh.

Wow.

Like.