Our society has convinced us that there is an absolute for cool, a sort of Plato's realm of ideal shapes for hipsters. Last night an old friend of mine reminded me that cool is as subjective as any of those other abstractions that we throw around. Cool for me probably isn't going to be cool for you. And you know what? I intend not to care anymore. If you don't like my booty dance, the way I sing in my car, or the way I live my life that's too damn bad. I do what I do because deep down inside, I really think it's cool.