All of a sudden, everywhere you go, all these people in the prime of their Hipness Uncertainty Syndrome years are fondling cigars, puffing earnestly away on cigars, and —
worst of all — droning away endlessly
about cigars, as though cigars are an intellectual topic comparable to classical
literature, as opposed to transient wads of spit - drenched tobacco.
I can see little there other than «I think its
worse than that» or some snarky remarks
about your supposedly superior knowledge of the
literature (unreferenced).