Mongo Nation

The spawning pool of the nation’s hipster population!

By Jeremy Azevedo

Last week we examined some of the various characters that make up the landscape of art school, a magical place where people go for four to six years to escape reality and fritter away their parents’ money so that they can tell their fellow mortgage brokers that they “used to be a really talented artist” years later when their family cuts them off and they’re forced to get a real job.

Now you might ask yourself: “Gee whiz, is everyone that goes to art school an egocentric idiot with a funny haircut that exists in a fantasy world of their own making, oblivious to the fact that people don’t actually get paid to paint pictures of their nuts, and even if they did, they sure wouldn’t have learned how to do it in a school that charges double what a regular school would charge to learn something that’s actually useful?” The short answer is an emphatic “yes”, but since that was a very long question, the long answer lies withing the following profiles:

The Emotional Wreck

Way, way, waaaaay too much information. Every time.

The Emotional Wreck thinks that art school is like their therapy or something. Science is unable to explain why it is that The Emotional Wreck doesn’t just go see an actual therapist, which would not only be much cheaper, but also much more effective. The Emotional Wreck will always make the rest of the class uncomfortable with her film about being raped by her father, or her interior design project that reflects her uterus experiencing a third trimester miscarriage.

The Narcissist

I would have shooped my ears a little smaller, had it been me…

At least one person in every class in art school is a Narcissist. Every project by The Narcissist will be a self-portrait of some sort. The Narcissist is in art school to “take a swim in lake me” or some such bullshit. Not surprisingly, The Narcissist is also a chronic masturbator.

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50 Cent is out and George Lucas is in.

Tired hip-hop fashion designer Marc Ecko is hoping to reinvigorate interest among the audiences he’s alienated with his corny G-Unit lines by tapping into a universal theme that very cool and very nerdy consumers can both stand proudly behind: Star Wars.

Where Leatherface would shop if he had internet access

Fur is so passé. This season, Serial Killer Chic is in, thanks to Skinbag!

Hipster Buffalo Bill: “Would you f**k me? I’d f**k me. I’d f**k me hard. Right after I finish my latte.”

Skinbag makes a range of products for the discerning maniac from a synthetic human skin that looks disgustingly real. (Seriously, it has wrinkles and veins and everything.) Look just like “Buffalo Bill” in stylish jackets and skirts that appear to have been carved right off of a freshly butchered transient!

Skinbag also makes camera bags and even courier laptop bags for the tech-savy whackjob with lots of money and disproportionately less common sense. Get yours today, and shame your family by dressing like a freak even though it’s not even Halloween time!

Made from leftovers of fat people after plastic surgery! Just kidding! (I think)

You can’t fault Skinbag for being original. But I think it’s safe to say that it is pretty gross.