I switched it up and grew out my beard this week as a show of testosterone. As proof that I carry the soul of a Viking marauder within me. I want my students to wilt before me as their instincts warn them that I can and most likely will rip their spines out through their throats. I want for sparks to shoot between the labia lips of women observing this secondary sex characteristic. For tingles to reach all the way up to the uterus in anticipation of my Goliath sperm. This is what I want but when I went out today it was clear the look had backfired and that beards have been hijacked in the modern era. The only people who have noticed are telling me I look like I lost a bet, or like I’m a hipster, or like I’m already 30.