How many copies of Moby Dick successfully balanced on your head while walking up a one hundred-step gilt staircase does it take to qualify you to wear that hat, Members? Whatever the number, you’ve been tap dancing the Maxie Ford through Grand Central every rush hour for a stint long enough to earn you a spot in the Institut Alpin Videmanette’s graduating class. That’s right – this week, your finishing school days are over! You’ll also note it’s no mere mortarboard getting derricked down onto your brain bucket for said occassion; it’s a headdress of such epic proportions that ‘monstrosity’ is too polite a term. And if, as the contraption you’ve worked so hard for the privilege to hunker under, settles on your head and you opt, not to sport that sucker, but instead, to fling it far, far in to space because, well, it’s just not your damn style – hat’s off to you! Commando Skull is as Commando Skull does.