From Thoreau's Walden: I say, beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes. If there is not a new man, how can the new clothes be made to fit? If you have any enterprise before you, try it in your old clothes.

Being a new convert, I threw out my cutoffs and tank tops because they were rebellious. I bought white shirts and polyester pants to fit into the Morg!

The Boner

I am a middle-aged man, and I do not own a tie or a business suit. My shoes are sneakers. I wear big shorts and t-shirts. No one tells me what to wear. I am not a businessman, and I won't pretend to be one. I am more interested in ideas than wealth accumulation. Falstaff lives!

Thou art so fat-witted with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning these after supper, and sleeping upon benches afternoon, that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou soundest truly know--fuck the cult, wear the jorts, and keep posting!

The Boner! (with a little help from the Bard)