In the low-level war of attrition of the New York blogs, the battles between myself and Gatemouth form their own chapter.

So it's with great pleasure, if not outright glee, that I find myself in agreement with my esteemed colleague, on the subject of the Beard that Would Be King.

We all saw the gubernatorial debate. Everyone expected, I think, that the show would be about some demented ramble by anti-everything-of-goodness-and-value teabag afficionado Carl 'Horse Porn' Paladino. Instead, all the buzz - at least here in hipsterville - was about 'dude, the guy with the beard! Awesome!'.

And that's fine. For the tattoo tribes of Williamsburg, style definitely precedes substance.

But when you dig a bit deeper, it's not so glamorous. First off, the Beard has a Jew problem. For me, that's a deal-breaker right there. Then, the Beard has some really whacked ideas about 9/11, which come down to another variant of aforementioned Jew problem.

But lastly and most egregiously, the Beard has a poetry problem. The problem being that he writes it. And that, frankly, is unforgivable.