I'm not going to mention any names, but there's this dude at the Y where I more or less work out with a very pronounced tattoo of Fall frontman Mark E. Smith on his right . . . trapezius, I think? Probably it's a trapezius. Refer to the picture and decide for yourself. The context here is Berwyn, you understand, so I'm trying to figure out whether this is a "There goes the neighborhood" deal or a "Hey, the hipsters are arriving at last" deal. (It's wearing, having to depend so heavily on fucking FitzGerald's for cred, lemme tell you.)

Anyway, first time I saw this lusus naturae, I had to do a double-take (subsequent to a spit take, actually) just to make sure it wasn't a botched Frankenstein or something. But nope: it was unambiguously Mark E. Smith from out of the Fall.

I bided my time and watched the guy for a while before I said something to him about it. Because, you know, he's obviously a pretty heavy fan of the Fall, and they can be a bit . . . uh, sectarian in my experience. But finally I said, "Hey, that's a huge tattoo of Mark E. Smith out of the Fall on your arm." And then I was so glad I did, because I didn't make his day, I made his year. It turned out that mine was the first positive ID of his tattoo ever. Guy's been walking around with Mark E. Smith on his arm for ten years, and nobody recognized it once.

Upshot: Come on, people now, smile on your brother: Reach out to those around you with Mark E. Smith tattoos.