patchmonkey.net

As the patchmonkey tells me that readers from over 83 countries will read this, I believe I have found the forum in which to voice my current concerns. These concerns regard the friendly head coverings we most often refer to as hats. But before I begin, let me introduce myself. I am Joshua Brown, often formerly and occasionally currently known as Kraut. I have concerns. About hats.

Hats are intoxicatingly powerful tools of deception and change. With the proper hat, you and I can become anyone. I turn my pork-barrel hat brim forward, and I am a surly old Irishman, full of life and booze…brim backwards, I am a sneering art student. I hate the establishment and all its mundane sell-out drones. I breathe the essence the hat creates inside of me. I am what the hat is. However, I am not its slave. I choose the hat. Sometimes I choose my cowboy hat. Sometimes the Napolean hat. Each comes with its own set of attributes, ready to be used for personal gain. Hats seem to offer us so much, and ask nothing in return. Little, painfully little, do we know.

Hats are eating my soul!

Consider: In Irish mythology, Cu Chulainn’s head is said to have shown with a brilliant light…his powerful life energy manifested in battle. Jesus is depicted with a golden halo…a symbol of his divine nature. The curls on an Indian Buddha’s head are markers of his wisdom. All vital power, spilling out of their holy noggins! We have forgotten what seeps out of our skulls. But hats have not. They take that sacred essence, and trap it inside…spiritually castrating us while we stumble about in a cranially fashionable daze! I know I must cast away my hats…but I cannot. My collection grows. I find myself donning them more and more…unable to break free….damn you, hats…damn you.