Ode to Long Hair

I have long hair.

I think it’s because of my distorted view of the 60s. After viewing show after show of the hippie stereotype, I became convinced that they were all long-haired, carefree, that they sat in parks smoking weed, making daisy-chains, playing the drums, talking in metaphor-peppered riddles about life’s most intoxicating questions.

Hippies probably didn’t, and neither do I. But we should.

Long hair is the badge of harmless youthful rebellion, of peacefulness and approachability – people feel more inclined to approach the long-haired in the street asking for whereabouts.

It’s good that Heavy Metal has cultivated such an image for itself. Gore-splattered albums loved by laid-back party animals, friendly nerds who lost their way. If your music is full of anger, passion, intricacy, soaring moments of bliss and crushing sombre lows, then you can chill out the rest of the time.
Yesterday I walked past a guy with similar hair, wearing a Burzum t-shirt. Feeling we were brothers under the One True God that is Metal, I roared “BURZUM” in a cookie-monster voice and flashed him the devil’s horns. He looked briefly surprised and then ignored me. Usually you get a response.
Beethoven would be Cannibal Corpse’s lead guitarist if he lived nowadays. Heavy Metal is orchestra music with better drumming. Long hair adds to the spectacle.

In the scary world of jobs and the future – far scarier than any Death Metal song – people might not be so hot on long hair. You’re only unemployable once, I say, so you may as well dress the part. My heart bleeds for people who grow up too early; friends and relatives my age who are engaged, who have kids, who buy All Bran instead of Ricicles, who came to university to study and complain about the noise. You’ve got an assignment in tomorrow? How come you’re not awake at 5AM completing it?

When I was in high school, it allegedly looked like a mop, and people who didn’t like me much called me ‘mophead’. Younger girls who denied fancying me would pull it. In a different setting – some dingy dungeon somewhere – I could’ve enjoyed it as well; I should try and hook up with ‘em.

“When you gonna get your hair cut / boff chopped?” dickheads would whine through their nose regularly. How bizarre. They never enquired about my day, all that concerned them was my hair. If you don’t know my name, don’t give me your fashion tips. And lose that bogus nasal accent.

I’m never chopping my boff. And fuck your short back and sides, or your dumb spiky tufts; your mum was lying when she said you looked smart. You should embrace your individualism, let it grow from your brain and rain in ringlets down your back; wear your personality on your forehead. What a waste of a life, to be bullied into changing your appearance. Just because of you, it’s going to reach my bellybutton. People waste their lives following the herd; it’s always the interesting people who are standing at the side, commenting on the symmetry of the buffalo.

“But aren’t you conforming to the non-conformists?” people claim. Better them than your mates.
I knew in time my hair would look gorgeous, and when I could put it in a ponytail, it became perfect. It was pulled straight at the top before falling into a mass of ringlets and curls, perfect for rocking out with integrity. Now, I look in the mirror and see a skinny Viking. Maybe I wear it in a ponytail too much.
The guy next door to me also has long hair. He’s American, and he actually waited until he was 21 to drink. He’s a proper Christian, he has never smoked dope, and I heard him shamelessly confess to being a virgin. Beyond the hair and the underlying nerdness, we’re totally different. In the 60s, we’d spend long hours in the kitchen, listening to endless psychedelic music and discussing which political system would bring us closer to communal love, or which was born from love, but social niceties have stopped me from breaching any of our major differences in any meaningful manner.

Hip-hop seems to contain the most cunning linguist stoners nowadays, but I don’t like their haircuts.