I just heard about the Potato Salad Kickstarter Guy. Is ironic Kickstarting the next wave of hipster entrepreneurism?
The potato-salad campaign contains even less irony than the Alanis Morissette song about irony, which is most famous for describing little in the way of irony and listing a grip of things that were merely, as comedian Ed Byrne put it, “unfortunate.” What is there of irony in the tenor of Zack Brown’s bid for sweet, sweet Kickstarter lucre?
Is the outcome somehow contrary to the expectation? Do the backers think Brown anything less than perfectly sincere? Do they question his intentions, thinking for even a moment that it might not be about potato salad at all?
I think not.
Zack Brown’s Kickstarter is pure farce, a comedy meant to entertain his audience with an unlikely, exaggerated situation, but one with a hint of remote possibility, inasmuch as the man may actually go through with his potato-salad plans.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s brilliant, and I almost wish I’d thought of it, but nonetheless farcical.
Plus, the potato-salad guy is a total bro. Who else would have a nickname like “Danger,” or use “leverage” and “best practices” in the copy of his business’ website (base2.io)? Bros learn that kind of business-speak in college and apply it incessantly until they achieve success, which is the ultimate dark secret of the hipster-bro rivalry: bros make money, hipsters usually don’t. Look at the potato-salad Kickstarter. Tens of thousands of dollars raised, without even generating a single, meaningful product, unless you count a momentary internet diversion as a product.
A thousand hipsters tried to Kickstart a thousand ideas this year, and everybody lined up to throw money at a bro from Ohio who amused them for as long as it takes to read 200 words.
I could be bitter, but I’d have to care.