I went to Green Music Fest in Wicker Park on Saturday, where, beneath the requisite haze of pot smoke, amassed hordes of ironic mustaches and the girls who inexplicably love them. All abuzz with anticipation (assonance: alliteration for vowels) for the musical stylings of Yo La Tengo.
Many wore costumes, few danced. I understood; it's nearly impossible to maintain stoic indifference and dance simultaneously. Safer to leave self-expression to one's outfit.
Preemptive defensiveness vs ecstatic self-abandonment. I win.
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