Allen Ginsberg once wrote:
“I judge that there is a sickness of language and opinionation in Portland, a clear lack of basic information, a failed sense of humor, overwhelming anxiety for no real reason — almost all official persons concerned seem subject to nineteenth century fainting spells, the official kind that our Eastern grandmothers complained of.”
What Portland lacks in wardrobe rigidity it often makes up for in surly attitude and cliquishness. If you haven’t experienced an elitist, insecure, trendy sense of smug self-importance, then you probably don’t live in Portland. But whatever. That’s just me, and I may be completely wrong.