In a move that has Rastafarians reaching for their lawyers and barbers reaching for their clippers, the United States Supreme Court has ruled that prison guards can, in fact, hack off a prisoner's dreadlocks without so much as a by-your-leave. The court, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that a man's hair is not his castle when he's behind bars. This is a decision so daft, so utterly divorced from the concept of religious freedom, that it could only have been dreamed up by nine people who have never had a bad hair day in their lives.
The case, which will surely go down in history as the 'Barber of Babyl-on v. Hapless Rastafarian,' revolves around a fellow named Andrea ‘Dreads’ D., a Rastafarian inmate in a Texan prison. Mr Dreads (not his legal surname, but it should be) was forced to have his locks shorn off because of some nonsensical policy about 'grooming standards.' The Supreme Court, in a 5-4 decision that split along lines that have nothing to do with hair partings, ruled that this did not violate his First Amendment rights. Because nothing says 'freedom of speech' quite like a forced haircut.
The majority opinion, penned by Justice Alito (a man whose own hair resembles a petrified hedgehog), argued that prisons have a 'compelling interest' in uniformity. Because, as we all know, nothing instills discipline like making everyone look like a freshly conscripted marine. Never mind that Rastafarians believe their hair is a sacred covenant with God. The court has decided that God is not the highest authority in Texas prisons. That honour belongs to the warden, who apparently moonlights as a stylist.
Justice Sotomayor, in her dissent, noted that the decision 'paves the way for prisons to mandate crew cuts for Sikhs and buzzes for Buddhists.' She also pointed out that the state could have achieved its security goals without turning inmates into props from a bad 1950s prison movie. But who listens to reason when there's a perfectly good pair of clippers?
The reaction from Rastafarian communities has been predictably irate. 'This is an outrage,' said Hopeful Lion, a spiritual leader from Brixton. 'First they take our Exodus, now they take our hair. Next they'll be banning reggae and replacing it with Coldplay.' The irony, of course, is that the same court that protects the right of corporations to spend unlimited money on elections has no time for a man's spiritual coiffure.
I spoke to a retired prison guard, Clancy ‘The Clipper’ McDougal, who was thrilled at the ruling. 'About time,' he said, stroking his chrome dome. 'These Rastas with their mops. It's a hygiene hazard. Plus, it gives the other inmates ideas. Next thing you know, they'll want beards.' McDougal is currently writing a book titled 'The Clipper's Guide to Genital Searches and Other Fun Activities.'
In the grand pantheon of absurd Supreme Court rulings, this one sits comfortably next to the decision that corporations are people (which means my gin bottle is a person too, and I demand it be given the vote). But what do I know? I'm just a gonzo journalist with a hangover and a typewriter. The moral of the story, dear reader, is clear: if you value your hair, stay out of prison. Or better yet, stay out of America. The gin is better on this side of the pond anyway.
Biff Thistlethwaite, filing from the bar at Heathrow Terminal 5. Bitter. Twisted. And in desperate need of a trim.
