Hair.

It never speaks, but says so much. It's a regular part of our everyday lives and often a source of common cause or bitter rivalry. Often I have observed both friends and foes use an ill-maintained coiffure as a source of derision when lacking something more substantial, and during my youth more than once have observed the ritual of a haircut used to bond otherwise disparate individuals into a cohesive group.

Growing up in a rural agricultural/tourism community afforded me precious little variety in the haircut experience. I had the same barber for the first 14 years of my life, and in between trips, would get trimmed by my own mother, who once attended beauty school.

After that, i discovered the joy of funny haircuts (various interpretations of the mohawk, the quiff, the mullet and the mad scientist) and have since always had my friends cut my hair, with debatable success. Years passed, and after I relocated for school, left said academic institution, and attained full-time employment despite my best efforts, I've occasionally had to engage in the awful and soul-crushing pedestrian exercise that is getting a basic haircut at a franchise identity-killer (supercuts, greatclips, etc.)

But no more! As part of the self-actualization experiment that is SF0, and more specifically, the persona of Captain Cutthroat, I've decided that if I have to have a boring haircut, I will be the perpetrator of said atrocity, that way I can take a private joy in the knowledge that I've defied the hellish corporate reality that has seeped its way into many aspects of my life as a result of my employment. After all, I've never heard of anyone giving a fictitious persona a haircut in a mask and a pirate voice.

What follows is the documentation of my dubious attempt.



I think my favorite part of this task is my awkward and bumbling attempt to catch this on video.