The crisis in men’s wear cannot be ignored.
Put down that baby and devote yourself to the revival of double-leather suspenders and sock garters. Sock garters! These exist! A human man thought them up and made them real. His care and concern brought them to us, so that we may be better.
Now, because of other men’s thoughtlessness, the sock garter has fallen out of favor. From disuse it is mere steps to disgrace. Civilizations don’t combust, nor explode. They crumble. Each time you – yes, you – fail to dress your stuffed animals in sock garters, Western man is diminished.
It was common practice in polite society for a man to stuff handkerchiefs into his cheeks each morning in hopes of impressing nature with his abundant bloat. He would take his meals this way, careful to avoid swallowing the cloth amidst spoonfuls of gray sauerkraut.
Man has become a dog. No longer does a gentleman define himself by the glorious streaks of silver paint he applies to the sides of his neck and underarms. He considers it noble to instead take a yellow highlighter marker pen and attack librarians about the face and eyes. He wishes them to be visible to trains!
I blame you, Barack Obama! Afraid, as you are, to be seen in public dressed as a large butterfly man, with tentacles and antennae and extra arms operated off camera by a time of steadymen.
A man is not man, he who finds it unwise to boil eggs in the pants.
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