Rip It Up is a Music Magazine that explores what it means to be a privileged self righteous Cracker. First off, what is Rip It Up? Well, I guess it’s just a normal magazine but one written by someone lacking the wit intrigue, intelligence, insight, IQ to write for a proper publication. Secondly, and most importantly, what is a Cracker?
According to popular culture, a Cracker drinks expensive cafe lattes, does overpriced designer drugs, is armed with a Gucci purse housing a tiny dog and usually drives a VW with NME stamp of approval indie music blaring from the dainty speakers set in the doors. Actually, a Cracker is just like a normal person: a range of personalities and temperaments that transcend common decency. A point that Rip It Up makes obvious over and over with their spoilt, pathetic attempts at being edgy.
Andrew Johnstone is a poseur, an arrogant racist with his sights on next Friday nights rave party in Ponsonby. He hangs out with his snooty over privileged friends, is reluctantly human and clumsily navigates the mean streets of his exclusive Auckland neighbourhood, streets occupied by that other kind of Cracker, the dangerous kind of lore.
Rip It Up is a magazine well past its expiry date, run by trendoid stereotypes. Crackers with trite dreams, cliched goals and laughable ambitions, Crackers who write dumb things, amazingly ignorant things, coping the best they can when public outcry is such that they are exposed for the pack of self awareness lacking fucktards they are.
Rip It Up is now dying a death on magazine stands near you.