“Now I know how the Indians felt.”

This one goes out to NABC's director of brewing operations, who formulated Get Off My Lawn with just this "fatigue" in mind.

At the same time, it is doubtful that New Albany's anonymous troglodytes even grasp what a hipster is. Being out of touch sometimes has its saving graces.

Come to think of it, "hopster" isn't a pejorative at all. "Hopsterism," anyone?

Montauk’s Hipster Fatigue, by Jim Rutenberg (New York Times)

... In these parts, the image of the hipster is also a stand-in for a more deeply seated suspicion that the whole look provides cover for a more privileged crowd that is intent upon importing to your neighborhood higher real estate, food and drink prices — and a new attitude that says, “I’m richer than you, I’m hipper than you and, gosh darn it, some things are going to change around here.”