Those who know me knew this column was inevitable. However, I was not planning on writing it so soon. But something I saw in this very publication a week or two ago raised my ire to such a height that I could not help but offer my commentary on the situation.
The headline read "Facial hair fad hits Gainesville's guys." Excuse me, but fad? Facial hair is a fad? No. Twilight is a fad. Tamagotchis were a fad. Facial hair, which has been around since the dawn of mankind, is no fad.
Readers, this may be obvious, but I have an awesome beard. My beard is not an accessory, nor is it a decoration. This beard was not grown for the enjoyment of others, but it does provide joy to many who are blessed enough to experience it. My beard was not grown to promote a hipster-esque image of nonchalance and passive-aggressive apathy. My apathy is simply aggressive. In fact, it is a mark of honor. It is a display of manliness, and a symbol of untamed splendor. My beard commands respect and reverence. To my enemies, my beard is harsh and intimidating; to my friends, my beard is warm and welcoming. It's a moat and drawbridge to the castle that is my face.
My beard's existence does not hinge upon whether or not I am actively looking for female companionship, as some in the previous article have stated. Instead, my beard acts as a sort of filter; if a girl somehow resists talking to me because of my facial magnificence, then she's not worth my time. The women that do find my beard to be attractive are much more desirable, as they demonstrate excellent taste, and are obviously not stuck-up bitches.
My beard is neither groomed nor maintained. It has never been shaped nor styled. Some may find this objectionable, but to them I say this: Screw you, guys. My beard is not meant to conform to any standard but my own. Beard trimmers are for the weak-willed, those who wish to taste the glory of the beard but lack the innate fortitude required to let their lower-face beast run free.
There are people who disparage beards; the despicable masses that find any sort of facial hair appalling (see: "haters"). These people are to be pitied, for they are no doubt lacking the inborn ability to grow or appreciate a beard. They should be pitied, just as vegans are to be pitied for their inability to enjoy a bacon double cheeseburger and Puritans for their inability to enjoy the finest box wines.
My beard is not just hair, it is a companion. It is a reminder of my constant excellence. To be honest, my beard has powers beyond my comprehension. Even I cannot fully fathom the reason why it is so spectacular. What I do know, however, is the massive oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico could be solved by me dunking my head in the water once or twice.