Texans don't bite and David Brooks reveals the source of his neurotic fear of pussification

The swarms of the hip are beginning to crowd into my fair city even as the students have left for Spring Break. I expect the usual weirdness in dealing with those from out of town who suspect that Texans are abnormal, like this blogger who I found from BlogBites.

We really, really hope all those stories of Austin being "cool" and "hip" and, mostly, "liberal" are true -- we get scared of potential conflicts with Red Staters once we pass Pinole on 80. Can they see it in our eyes that we support same-sex marriage, universal healthcare and public transportation funding?

Ah yes, we are different from everyone else, but we actually don't bite. Even people who have different politics from the blue-staters (and Austinites generally don't) will not actually descend on you to rend you limb from limb, so no fear, gentle hipsters from out of state! The worst you have to worry about is that we will laugh at you because we have never fully managed to truly accomodate The Fashionable and we find people wearing carefully put together hip outfits to be sources of amusement. Seriously, one year we had a good five minute gut wrenching laugh at the expense of a poor Manhatten-dweller who wore a greasy black cowboy hat with the brim carefully curled up.

We'll have operatives on the ground for the duration, bringing you team coverage. Is Shiner Bock better than Anchor Steam? Can the Salt Lick stand toe-to-toe with Brother-In-Law's? Will their burritos have rice and beans? And if Paris Hilton and Gavin Newsom start making out in Union Square, and no one's there to blog about it, will they make a sound?

Answers: Yes; you won't eat there because The Salt Lick's not actually in Austin; yes and better than yours; and no, they actually implode on themselves.

Speaking of exaggerrated differences between different parts of America, David Brooks tipped off his readership to the reason behind his obsession with both red staters and reinstating the boot on women's necks--he's a big weakling who drinks decaf.

I could have guessed it anyway, but it’s always nice to hear a confirmation of one’s suspicions. Brooks is a wuss and he wants women, liberals and red staters to fix him. As someone who manages fit into all three categories, I don't know which of Brooks' expectations of people like me is most offensive--that we women should turn into dependent baby machines to make him feel manlier, that we liberals need to castigate ourselves for being cheese-eaters so that Brooks can have some company for his guilt-caused misery, or that we red-staters should mojo our gun-toting, cheap food-eating toughness over to Brooks so that he can briefly experience what it's like to be a real cowboy. Of course, monsters like me--independent women (bad) who are middle Americans (good) that voted for Kerry (bad)--may not actually seem possible in Brooks World. Perhaps I should write him a letter notifying him of my existence and see if that causes his head to explode.