A friend sent me a link to an open letter to bearded hipsters. I love it. The author comes out swinging, finds the jugular, and jumps on it. Read it and enjoy. Here’s the opening paragraph to whet your appetite:
“Dear Bearded Hipsters, YOU GUYS ARE RUINING MY BEARD FETISH. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve loved a man with a beard. To me, they meant strength, power, MANLINESS. Someone who could protect me. Unfortunately, you guys have turned it into a fashion statement. The beard has turned into the padded bra of masculinity. Sure it looks sexy, but whatcha got under there? There’s a whole generation running around looking like lumberjacks, and most of you can’t change a fucking tire.”
It goes on for several paragraphs of ball kicking snark. I couldn’t stop laughing.
Then I scanned the comments. (Note: I could sacrifice a goat on YouTube using pinking shears and a blowtorch and I’d get six comments. Four of them would be spam. She bitches about men who don’t own hammers and she lights a fuse. As a blogger I have so much to learn.)
Because there is nothing in such great supply in the universe as irony, the comments go into the thousands and several hundred appear to be navel gazing butthurt men(?) wallowing in misery because she was unfair and wrong for insulting their preening. (I may have injected a little bias in that description, your mileage may vary.)
Also I’ve learned that one can put various products in a beard to make it softer. I can’t unlearn this tragic factoid. Uncool! A beard is not plumage; its whatever comes out of your face if you don’t run a knife over it daily, unless you’re female or Woody Allen, in which case you ought to get that shit checked out. This truth, like life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, is self-evident.
Apparently the beard thing went viral because she eventually added an apology called I’m Sorry. Her deep and heartfelt attempt at reconciliation is pure gold and ends like this:
“Lastly, I am sorry for blogging in the first place. ‘They’ really will give a blog to anyone. I didn’t realize that writing is a Godlike, sacred power. That every time I sit down to write, I must think: how will this impact every person in the world? Will I offend anyone? Could anyone possibly be hurt?
Sadly, this is impossible. But I really love writing. So, as of Monday, ‘The Nicki Daniels Interview’ will change to ‘Funtime Happyplace’ and will feature my thoughts on navel lint and lots of GIFs of dancing cats.”
Beautiful. Simply beautiful.