The Problem with Poseurs

What is it about poseurs that bugs us so much? Is it their inauthenticity/dishonesty? The idea that they seem to think we don't see through them, that they've put one over on us? Or, is it the fact that they do seem to fool so many people? Or, is it because they seem to travel in packs, all of them browning each other's Pinocchioesque noses? All of the above, most likely. At least, that would be my answer.

In the Land of Poseurs, citizens come in all forms, all of whom are annoying, tho' to differing degrees, to different people. In the interest of time, let us consider two examples, one that particularly irks me being the faux foodie. Said poseur is one who has come late to the gastronomical game, and without any skills, tho' professing many. This type of imposter has a tendency to follow trends, taking them up with such vigor that they appear to be deep-seated passions, both to observers and to the poseur himself. This is the part where genuine foodies get really, really irritated because they truly love food; it is both art and therapy to them, and may, in fact, be tantamount to a lifeline. They watch silently while the faux foodie dazzles people with empty shows of culinary knowledge and prowess, knowing that it's really all smoke and mirrors -- from snuffed candles and shattered looking glasses. They don't buy it, they certainly don't want to eat it, and they can't see why anyone else would. But they do. And they often gleefully follow suit... like lunkheaded lemmings. Those of us who refuse to follow anything -- be it a trend or an order -- that does not sit well with who we are and what we represent, get fighting mad over such displays because they seem to mock our vehement individualism. Where we choose to live honestly, authentically, as staunch individuals, poseurs do not; rather, they choose to live as copycats cloaked in the (knock-off) cat's pajamas. Naturally, this spuriousness is bound to, well, get our backs up.

The artificial Artiste, "with a capital 'A,'" to paraphrase Karnock in A Stolen Life, is another such thorn in the side. This type of wannabe makes it his business to display so-called artistic interests and capabilities, be they in music, painting, dance, fashion, or what have you. He is likely to be found sharing photos of his atrocious watercolors, his favorite being the one of a tumbleweed-tailed bunny in a field, nibbling -- with saber teeth -- on a carrot twice its size. The lack of talent is, however, evident only to a handful, and this, naturally enough, is irksome. Or, you might spot him showcasing his limping Latin dance skills; nobody can do the "syncopated" salsa like he! He basks in the accolades of the undiscerning while the rest of us hold our heads in our hands and pray for the ballroom butchery to end. We hope that withholding positive reinforcement might stop the horror, but it doesn't because it simply isn't needed; this type of poseur gets all the positive reinforcement he needs from his own deluded self, which is, sadly, a never-ending font of encouragement, and one of legendary proportions.

It would appear that there is, really, nothing we can do about it. Against the poseur’s ego, there is no weapon great enough. None, perhaps, except time (tho' this is not at all a certain remedy). So let the poseur paint. Let the clodhopper (lindy) hop. Let the faux foodie dabble in cookery; all it may take is time... and enough kitchen twine to "hang himself with."

- Lisette