Playoff season would be murder.

It's a period of mourning here in Medicine Hat... my moustache has died. Almost subconsciously, the muttonchops have bloomed in memoriam.

It was a fine 'stache, no doubt about that. But vanity proved my undoing, and as I trimmed it one morning, I thought I'd add a little divot to the top. Alas (and I should have seen this coming), the hairs I trimmed on top provided all the body below it. What was left was so ghastly, I had no option other than to reach for the lather.

Apparently, a central truth to the grooming of facial hair is: "As Above, So Below."

Which got me to thinking.

I've talked about the need for a new new age before, but this one I like: divination by beard reading.

Advantage #1: Time. If someone comes to me for a reading, they're looking at a two, three month process minimum, with weekly record-keeping appointments, that's a lot of billable hours. Er, I mean... actually, no. That is what I mean. Moreover, that's a lot of time to retroactively prove my theories between sessions, and a lot of time to research likely statistical progressions of the future to pass off as predictions. The longer the beard-reader can keep things going, the better.

Advantage #2: Motivation. People aren't going to grow a beard for three months just to find out why they had that dream about a windmill last night. Beard-reading lends itself to the important questions, the ones that are worth working on for three months. This simplifies the beard-reader's job considerably. Better yet, it can be helpful: three months of placebo is a strong prescription, especially when they're carrying the relevant good luck charm right on their face.

Advantage #3: Fashion. Being able to tell people exactly how to trim their beards? That almost makes this whole idea worthwhile by itself.

Hm. That last one is quite an advantage, indeed. You know, for an extra fee, I could even grow the beard myself...

The Top 100: Biorhythm is a dancer.

Okay, so what's my big plan? Well, it's simple, really. The poetic appeal to astrology is that the conditions under which you were born affect your entire life. Of course, rather than look at things like nationality, gender, income bracket, and genetic susceptabilities, we choose to focus on whether Jupiter was more than ten degrees away from a star whose light will never reach us in our lifetimes. I propose that there's a middle ground here -- something halfway between obvious and irrelevant.

Something like the music which is all but inescapable in our lives -- Top 40 radio.

Now, contrary to what some radio stations (i.e., yours) believe, there are more than ten songs to choose from. And that's the beautiful part, right there: choice. Find a list of your birth year's Top 100 singles (here's mine - adjust URL accordingly), and find the one near the top which best describes yourself. Voila! That must have been the song which shaped your formative year. It's circular logic, of course, but we're trying to replace astrology here. What's sauce for the goose, right?

The song is your sign, but that's just part of it. Now, find an artist/band on that list which figures predominantly (three or more hits that year). That's your house. Now, let's put it all together.

Astrology: I was born in the year of the Fire Dragon. This means I'm a very energetic leader. My brother was born in the year of the Earth Horse. This means he's charming, low-key, stubborn, and reliable.

Popology: I was born in the year of Silly Love Songs, in the house of K.C. and the Sunshine Band. This means I've got a wry sense of humour, an appreciation for simple pleasures, and I shake, shake, shake that booty. My brother was born in the Year of the Disco Inferno, in the house of the Bee Gees. This means he's incredibly lucky and irresistible to women.

Which one sounds more believable to you?

And sometimes, it even exceeds expectations. It was mentioned at work that for all my hard work with this, the year when music is most important to you is almost invariably Grade 12. For me, that's '92-'93, so I started looking around the hits of 1992, and I found a song which also appeared on the 1976 hit list. The same artist, even! Obviously, that's the popological equivalent of a cosmic alignment. It can mean only one thing:

Bohemian Rhapsody is my spirit animal.

Did you just feel a chill, right there? I felt a chill.

The chill of truth.