Like taxes, haircuts are are a necessary evil.

Every few months, I glance in the mirror and despair, for my hair needs to be cut. It’s pretty easy for me to tell when I should hit the hair salon. When my hair starts to look like Justin Beiber’s iconic (and idiotic) hair helmet, I know it needs to be cut.

I’m sometimes tempted to ignore the Beiber resemblance and let my hair keep growing, but one thought pulls me back to safety from the brink of madness.

I will never, ever have a mullet.

My hair has generally been a mess. Once, in middle school, I tried styling it with gel: a mistake that shattered my fragile self-esteem into tiny, tiny pieces. Since then, I’ve occasionally attacked my hair with a comb and left it at that.

If you tell me I need a haircut, I will glare at you with cold, bitter fury. And then I’ll probably go get a haircut.

The problem with haircuts is that they bring scissors, razors and other sharp objects very close to my eyes, ears and other things I’d rather not have cut off or gouged out. My fears are not baseless. At least one hair stylist has drawn blood—repeatedly—giving me good reason to fear anyone who brandishes bladed implements anywhere near my face.

Are haircuts evil? Yes. I will prove it. Let us turn to Scripture, brethren, for our answers.

Most of us know the story of Samson, who let his hair grow as a symbol of devotion to God. When his hair was cut, Samson lost his divinely-given strength. He was surrounded, powerless to resist. His tormentors blinded and enslaved him. In the end, Samson ended his own life. (This is all in Judges 16.) All of this happened because Samson got a haircut. A haircut killed him!

Don’t even get me started on Absalom. He was a really bad dude. He also had his hair cut regularly. An evil man who got haircuts? Coincidence? Coincidence?!

With this vast and comprehensive wealth of Scriptural evidence, I believe I’ve proved that haircuts are evil.

(No, I’m not being serious. Please put down your Bibles and/or heavy stones before someone gets hurt.)

In the past two years, I have found one consolation to make haircuts bearable. The Tenth Doctor from Doctor Who has some sweet, sweet sideburns. Although my paltry sideburns are not worth comparing to the good Doctor’s, they’ve definitely grown on me. (Pun intended. I’m so, so sorry.) Haircuts are awful, yet they keep my sideburns neatly trimmed. Neat sideburns put me ever so slightly closer to achieving the splendor of the Tenth Doctor’s hairstyle.

THOSE SIDEBURNS.

Maybe haircuts are worth it after all.

Then again… maybe they’re not.