(All images below are from Yale University's November Beard Club.)
The full beard is something of a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it makes the wearer look rugged and distinguished, always on the ready for a day full of bear wrestling or bear trapping or bear dancing or other bear-related activities. However, the full beard also has the distinct liability of making one look about 20 years older than they actually are.
Seriously, I have old pictures of me from my sophomore year of college that I could post on Match.com right now that would score me all kinds of middle-aged divorcee tail. I'm not gonna do it, but I'm just saying. So basically that's what you get with the full beard. Bears and divorcees. So it's a toss-up.
0 bullets.
Let's not screw around here. Mustaches are awesome. Think about somebody awesome. Do they have a mustache? Odds are they do. Magnum P.I.? Awesome. Groucho Marx? Extremely awesome. Mario? I mean, come on.
Now let's think of some people without mustaches. Oprah. Shemp. Joseph Stalin. Oh, wait, Stalin had a huge mustache. And he was one of the evilest dudes. So put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Plus 9 bullets.
The goatee had its time in the sun. And indeed, it perfectly exemplified everything that was right with the late '90s. Booming tech stocks and unneccessary e-commerce sites. A nationwide obsession with latte. The short-lived career of MTV VJ Idalis. Those godawful monochrome shirt-tie combinations people wore to be like Regis for some reason. We associate the goatee with all these things, and that is just as it should be.
But, listen to me, friends. The goatee's time has come and gone. Those of you still clinging to your halcyon days of yore in which gas was affordable and everyone in the world didn't hate us, I implore you. That time has passed. Let it go. And let go of your goatee. It'll be okay. I promise.
Minus 5 bullets.
Yes, Amish people have them. But don't let that give you the wrong impression of the chinstrap's utility. Let's imagine for a moment that you were kidnapped by Viking ghosts or something and they tied, like, a sandpapery strip of material around your head so that it went under your chin. You would thank the Lord above for the cushion that chinstrap beard provided. Just consider that.
And I can think of literally two or three other very practical uses for just such facial hair. Don't sell it short. Also of note: apparently the November Beard Club calls it a "chin curtain" which sort of makes it sound like a sexual act of some kind. To which I say, bonus points.
Plus 3 bullets.
Yeah, I know that's not technically a soulpatch. It's more of a Satan goatee thing. But (and this is important) by all appearances it does not look as if the Novemer Beard Club even recognizes the soulpatch as an official style of facial hair. And with good reason. The soulpatch is, plain and simple, the end of civilization as we know it. I cannot exaggerate this point.
You know who has soulpatches? Like, guys who wear sunglasses all the time. Nobody wants to see that.
Minus 11 bullets.
Look at that guy up there. I mean, look at that guy! Do I really even need to say anything? Can I even attempt to?
Honestly, say what you will about Chester A. Arthur's politics, but the man knew how to wear his facial hair. Shit, I'm gonna start growing some mutton chops right now.
Plus 10 bullets.
Comments
I have a Burnsides, which is a combination of both a mustache and muttonchops. I win!
Posted by: Darth Obvius | April 6, 2010 2:42 AM