The advantages of voluntary invisibility are self-evident, but the process of becoming invisible is fraught with challenges. Only the truly dedicated should undertake the task, and even they should realize that their chances of success are wafer-thin (assuming the wafer is very thin).

To start, you should determine if you are “invisibility material.” The following quiz will help:

1. Are you physically average or nondescript?
2. Do you have a trench coat? A wide-brimmed hat? A lot of Ace bandages? A fake nose? Goggles? (Swim goggles are acceptable.)
3. Have you ever addressed a person audibly, while standing right in front of them, and received no response, no response at all… as if you were invisible? (You were probably not really invisible.)

If you answered “yes” to the above questions, things look promising for your future invisibility. But wait: now answer these questions.

1. Are you gregarious? Sociable? Do you “like people”?
2. Do people notice when you are not around?
3. Do you have “friends” who are interested in your personal life?
4. Has anyone ever told you “I miss you” or “I can’t wait to see you again”?

If you answered “yes” to any of the second set of questions, you are probably not “invisibility material,” even if you have goggles of the non-swimming variety.

At this point you may be wondering why these factors would matter. Invisibility is a physical property, bounded and defined by science. What role could the very human elements listed above play in making light pass through or around a person? Your wondering indicates either a promising social ineptitude that will aid you in your quest for see-through-ism, or a gross ignorance of the workings of the very science you invoke, or possibly both. Whatever the case, prepare to have your dreams at least partially deflated.

Physical invisibility is fundamentally flawed.

So flawed that it’s not probably worth pursuing. Others have explored the reasons why in greater detail than this instructional essay cares to, but the main drawback is your eyes need light to see, therefore any theoretical invisibility suit or field or lotion would have to leave your eyes unaffected and unencumbered, which means you’d be a pair of floating eyes, which means people would know exactly where to poke you, and could make reasonably accurate guesses about where to kick and punch you.

If you insist on using some form of physical impediment to light as the source of your invisibility, The Hairy Skeleton suggests (but does not endorse) Dr. Fulsom’s Old-Timey Invisibility Balm. The lotion renders you completely transparent, moisturizes without leaving you feeling greasy, and it can be applied (with difficulty) to the lenses of the eyes. Be warned that the sensation is not pleasant. Also, be aware that the balm does not work on clothing, so you will have to be naked while invisible, making the balm impractical for application in winter or higher latitudes, and that the balm smells very strongly of strawberries, so while you may be invisible, you will be detectable by nose. People may be suspicious of the vaguely person-shaped region of fruit-scent that occasionally emits small noises and seems very interested in everything they’re doing.

That said, don’t lose hope. You can still be invisible, or a kind of invisible, but it will be an invisibility rooted in mental, rather than visual perception. There are precedents to this regimen, most famously the Burroughs Method (invented by noted writer and junkie William S. Burroughs), wherein the practicer sees everyone around him/herself before they see her/him, enacting the “primacy of perception” principle and creating a shroud of unnoticeability, not to mention a neat little alliteration. The following battery of techniques can be used in conjunction with the Burroughs Method but works equally well on its own. Applied properly, the regimen guarantees that:

1. You will probably not be seen.
2. If you are seen, it won’t matter.

Start with physical average-ness. Conform as closely as possible to the statistical mean for height, weight and build. When in doubt, put on a few pounds and hunch over a little. Try to have colorless hair, that sort of brownish-blondish or blondish-brownish that looks like a different non-color in every type of light. Eye color isn’t too important, since you won’t be making much eye contact; just try not to be too striking.

As far as clothing goes, you have some freedom, and you should consider what kind of people you’re most likely to be around. Polo shirts and khakis are usually a good bet, as they are popular, unflattering, and say little if anything about the person who wears them. However, it is important to remember your context. In the financial district, wear a suit. If you live in a hip urban neighborhood, shop at the thrift store. (And good luck: scrutiny and insecurity go hand in hand. With their keen eyes, shaky self-concept and obsessive knowledge of fabrics and apparel semiotics, a young hipster is almost impossible to hide from. You will be judged and found wanting.) Consider moving to a city in a cold climate, where shapeless high-collared winter coats and knit caps will whittle away your distinguishing features most of the year. Like a sniper’s ghillie suit, your wardrobe must be assembled by hand, piece by piece, with the singular intent of not triggering interest.

Be poor, and if possible, dirty. These qualities have worked wonders for making the underclasses invisible, especially in urban areas. Some cities are more hospitable than others and pose a real threat by way of charity and humanitarianism; reference materials can help you identify these nice metropolitan areas so they can be avoided.

Financial stability is no obstacle to invisibility, however. Some of the most unnoticeable people are doing quite well. The trick is to make sure you display whatever success you have in a mundane way, a way that is universally recognized as a signifier of achieved goals but contains no element of personal expression. Electronic gadgets are good for this, but any item that is significant or desirable simply because it is expensive will work, if it costs enough.

Avoid making contact with other people. Speak as little as possible, and never to the same person twice unless absolutely necessary. You will have to be vigilant and keep track of all the people you talk to, in order to prevent repetition. Buy a notebook for recording your interactions in terse, possibly coded language. Speaking of purchases, the corner store is not your friend. The guy who owns it is always there and eventually he will recognize you. The local big-box retailer has automated checkout lanes and is open 24 hours. Patronize it. Allow friendships to wither and intimacy to fade. Don’t try to rush the process, as that will only draw attention to the decay. An emotional reaction, positive or negative, depends on some level of connection, and connection is a form of knowing. For the prospective invisible person, any level of familiarity should be avoided at all costs. To be invisible is to be unknown.

Good luck disappearing!
” “

Technical details aside, the beginning of a new year is a useful if arbitrary point conducive to self-evaluation and improvement. The hoary tradition of New Year’s resolutions is a prime example of such examination, but by following the steps below, the acknowledgment of the past in hope of improving the future can be made more involved and complicated, not to mention less covered in gray or white hair. And a little facetiousness never hurt anyone (though a lot of facetiousness has been proven to cause cancer in lab animals).

So let’s do it! Let’s start your new year!

1. Consult your script.
A draft of the new year should have arrived at your home by the middle of December. (If your script hasn’t arrived yet, consult your physician, priest, or cable television provider. Which one, you ask? You’ll figure it out.) The manila envelope will contain a treatment of the year to come; a “bible” containing back story and your life’s mythology, to ensure that your words and deeds remain “canon”; and the parts of the script you will need to memorize. While most of your life is improvisational, some candid moments need to be timed and worded in a certain way so that they occur in proper sequence and appear “realistic.” Scripting also allows for cameo appearances, though the details may be redacted to maintain the surprise. For example in March, when the only thing nerdier than highlighting blacked-out passages so you can read the “secret” message is making a specific typographical style to create blacked-out “secret” messages and then referring to the style in a needlessly metafictional blacked-out “secret” message. The main theme of my script is “geeky.”

If the concept of receiving a pre-written script of your life in the mail is alien or even distasteful to you, 1) are you really so naive that you think the gubmint hasn’t plotted out your entire life for you in advance and 2) how do you handle the crushing anxiety of never knowing what will happen next? I’m betting the answers are 1) “yes” and 2) “booze.” Regardless, the rest of these year-starters will be helpful even if you still believe you are master of your own fate.

2. Conduct a thorough personal inventory.
Start by moving everything out of one of the rooms of your house, apartment, trailer or modified shipping container. Remove all your clothes and stand in the center of the empty room. Look at yourself. Scrutinize every component of your person, physical, mental and emotional (you may pick the order). Look at the scars you’ve received over the past year. Memorize their shapes and colors. Identify areas where you’d like to be scarred in the coming year. Mark those areas with dashed lines in felt-tip pen. For emotional scars, make a brief list on your left forearm.

Once you’ve finished scrutinizing yourself, bring a mirror into the room and, one at a time, every other item you possess. Look at yourself in the mirror while holding or using the item. If you get a bad vibe, discard or (preferably) destroy the item. Repeat this process with relatives and friends. (Pets, if you have named them properly, do not need to be evaluated.) After standing in front of the mirror with everyone you care about, put your clothes on and leave the room. (Note: you will probably need two mirrors, so you can evaluate the mirrors.)

3. Write your ideal year.
Having dealt with the past, it’s time to plan your future. Create a narrative of the next twelve months in which everything goes exactly as you want it. Be as unrealistic as you like, because frankly, this ideal year of yours is not going to happen. Consider this an example of “aiming high.” Include whatever level of detail will make the ideal year sufficiently real to you. Don’t just copy your script. Once you’ve finished constructing your dream year, summarize it as succinctly as possible. Boil it down to one word if you can. Write that word or phrase or sentence on a separate sheet of paper, then eat the original ideal year narrative. Take the one-word version and, using parts of the letters of the word, create a graphic symbol. This is called a sigil. Redraw the sigil on a separate piece of paper and then eat the rough draft. Carry the sigil with you wherever you go; you might want to get it laminated so you can bring it in the shower. Meditate on the sigil for at least fifteen minutes a day. Visualize the sigil while eating, exercising, and having sex. Visualization at these times energizes the sigil. Visualize hard. If anyone asks “What are you thinking about?”, say “I’m potentiating a psycho-magical manifestation of my ideal life.” That’ll learn ’em.

(Note: I bet your ideal life narrative didn’t say anything about eating a bunch of paper.)

4. Stare yourself down.
Some time after your personal inventory, lock yourself in the bathroom and stare at your reflection for as long as possible (clothing optional). Make eye contact to maximize the disturbance quotient. If having a self-staring contest doesn’t come easily to you, try a “time trials” approach: stare at yourself for five seconds, then ten, and so on. Keep trying to beat your own record. Stare at the mirror until you can see yourself as a (very creepy) stranger would. Make a note of your facial expression and avoid people who look at you that way.

5. As the year progresses, keep a journal of “what should have happened.”
That won’t make you petty and bitter. Oh no no no no. Or alternatively:

6. Don’t think in terms of years.
There is only now. One now after another, in an infinite and immutable chain. No single now can be removed from the chain, each now is discrete and self-contained and intimately linked to every other now you have ever experienced or will experience. The new year doesn’t start at midnight. The new year already started. The new year never ends.

Happy starting!
The Hairy Skeleton

The Hairy Skeleton knows what you’re saying right now (even though you are probably far away). “Mr. The Hairy Skeleton,” you are saying, “what about telepathy?” Yes, telepathy is a viable form of communication, and far superior to the telephone, which was originally intended to be an artificial telepathy substitute for the extrasensorily-impaired. But not everyone is a telepath, and there is some doubt whether anyone is. Also, using telepathy for every little communication really burns through the mind-minutes, which can be expensive. (Check with your service provider.) Beyond telepathy, there are other “technological” options such as internet chattery, electronic mail, steam-powered mail and dynamite sculpture. All of these methods have their drawbacks, primarily exposure to the internet (which is evil) and lethal explosions (which may blow you up, or at least parts of you). Regrettably, that leaves the telephone as the most stable, most widespread, and least lethal method of long distance communication.

I say regrettably because the flaws of the telephone are numerous and profound, and they are also sneaky, causing untold damage to telephone users (or “phoners”) with little or no warning until it is far too late. The Hairy Skeleton does not endorse the telephone. However, the telephone is the best we have, until more effective yells are developed or you are willing to radically decrease your number of friends and live communally with them. Therefore, this instructive missive is motivated by the desire to do things well, even if they are unpleasant. Like using the telephone.

So let’s take these telecom lemons and make some auditory lemonade! Let’s use the telephone!

1. Find and Apply The Receiver
The receiver is the part of the phone which sends and receives voices in order to make long-distance communication possible. Note that it is not called a “sender-receiver.” Already the phone is duplicitous. The receiver will either look like a bulbous handle sort of thing or will be covered in buttons, and is distinct from the phone’s other major component, the “base”, which is vestigial in modern phones and will (according to scientific projections) disappear completely with ten generations. Pick up the receiver and place it against your dominant ear, which will be opposite your dominant hand, unless it is not. When handling the receiver, use latex gloves if possible, or salad tongs if they are available. You can never tell where a receiver has been.

Once the receiver is against your ear, it will extrude several filaments into your skull and ear canal, to anchor itself in place and send direct-cortical advertisements. (Drink Coke.) When you hear the second, louder crunch, you may begin Step 2.

2. Dial the number.
Every phone user has a telephone number which allows you direct access to their voice and ear, assuming they answer their telephone when you call. The average telephone number is a sequence of digits anywhere from seven to eighteen hundred numbers long, which must be entered into the telephone in precise order or your phone and the phone of the party you wish to speak to will melt. There are numerous mnemonic devices on the market to help keep track of these cumbersome strings, some of which have not yet been banned or saddled with class action lawsuits. Or you can do the speed-dial thing. That is one handy feature.

After correctly entering the phone number, you will hear a repetitive sound, like a tolling bell, or a kazoo, or an angry cricket. This is not an auditory hallucination. This is the phone “ringing,” an alert signal that rouses the person you wish to speak with. The ring of the phone sounds very different to the person you are calling. Most people describe the sound as a “vicious kick in the head,” because most modern phones express the ring of an incoming phone call as a vicious kick in the head.

Depending on how much the person on the other end of the line loves you, the ring will eventually stop. You could be waiting a very long time; consider making a snack. An ominous silence follows, most often broken by a single word: “Hello?” Whatever you do, don’t hang up. This is what you have been waiting for. You have connected with your desired conversation partner and may now begin step 3.

3. Conversate.
This is the most rewarding and perilous part of using the telephone, as basically anything goes. The only limits are the limits of your own imagination. Say things! Anything that comes to mind! Did you have a reason to call the person? Tell them! Did you call just to “shoot the breeze”? You’d better be entertaining. Most people have better things to do than shoot the breeze, which if you think about it, is a waste of both wind and ammunition. Then again, if they’ve answered the phone, they can’t be too busy, so whatever. The most important thing to remember is to use words from a recognized language, preferably one the other person is fluent in. Guttural barks, moans and grunting are unseemly and ineffective communication tools. (This is also true in face-to-face communication.)

4. End transmission.
Once all possible conversation has been exhausted, thank the person for his or her time, effort and patience, and wish them well. Commonly accepted dismissals include “Good Bye!”, “Oh, look at the time!”, “You’re lucky you live on that island”, and “Spiders! Spiders!” Remove the receiver from your ear, place it back in its cradle, and staunch your bleeding head wounds with sterile gauze. Wait three days before using the telephone again, or until the swelling goes down.

Other Things To Consider
Science has yet to find an effective way to transmit gestures via electricity (though the Danish Flaelerfone has successfully recreated the analogue of a shrug with minimal injury to either party), so if you are a physically expressive person, try semaphore.

Are you a sarcastic or dry-witted person? Telephone use is especially dangerous for you, as facial expressions are completely ignored by current phone technology and even inflection is sometimes garbled as it passes through the wires. One possible solution is running your voice through an electronic ring modulator and informing everyone you know that when you sound like a screeching robot on the phone, it means you’re being sarcastic.

Are you drunk? Then step away from the phone. She doesn’t want to hear from you. Seriously: just step away. If necessary, ask a friend to help you with this. Make sure the friend is bigger than you, or at least less drunk.

Don’t talk too fast. Too many words on the wires is a terrible burden on the ancient stooped woman at the telecommunication nexus miles beneath the earth’s surface, who must constantly plug and unplug thousands of cables into and out of a grid of thousands of different sockets so that the system doesn’t crash irreparably.

If you are using a cellular phone, ignore the above procedure. Just dial and talk. The gubmint has found other ways to control your thoughts and life.

And finally, when finished with any phone call, remember to submit to a high-pressure hazmat shower and alcohol rub-down. For safety.

Happy calling!
The Hairy Skeleton

So let’s have some fun and do it right, huh? Let’s name your pet!

1. Identify your type of pet.
The first step to any pet-naming endeavor is to determine what kind of pet you have. “But Mr. The Hairy Skeleton,” you might say, though I’m nowhere near you, “surely what kind of pet I have is obvious. I went to the shelter and adopted a dog. There was a veterinarian present and everything.”

Of course there was. And this website would never doubt the stated opinion of a qualified health professional, unless it was wrong. However, the task of identifying your kind (or “type”) of pet is considerably more nuanced than looking at the animal and declaring its species, or even its breed. The responsible pet namer must transcend mere biology and delve deeper, penetrating to the intrinsic petness of your pet.

To properly identify what type (or “kind”) of pet you have, you must confront your pet. Sit the pet down in front of you and meet its gaze. If the pet will not meet your gaze, hold its head (or whatever part of its body contains the eyes) in your hands and physically insist on meaningful eye contact. Do this with love. Failing to engage your pet in this fashion without the proper context of love is mean and more than a little weird. Also, a lack of love will skew your results. This intentional and prolonged period of eye contact (at least twenty minutes) may be discomforting, for as you look into your pet, your pet looks into you (Nietszche), and frankly neither one of you may like what you see (especially the pet). Stick with it though, and around minute seventeen, you will experience a new and profound understanding of your pet, its hopes and desires and of course, its true nature. However, and this is very important, do not stop at minute seventeen. Continue for the full twenty, and depending on how you feel, try to stretch it to an even half-hour. You can’t be too careful in avoiding false positives. That said, twenty minutes should probably do just fine.

Once the observation period is complete, your mind will be saturated with the kind (or “type”) of your pet. Record this information in whatever medium and/or method is most convenient and expressive. Paper and pen is most common; video confessional has a heart-wrenching reality show feel to it; modeling clay is often effective but almost always unwieldy. Whatever you choose, make sure to let go of your pet’s head first. The final identification will be more than a simple declaration of “dog” or “sugar glider” or “slime mold”. It may encompass a temperament, or political inclination, or a more general adjective, but will be highly symbolic and broad-ranging. Whatever the identity is, remember that this series of words defines your pet.

Examples (for demonstration only, your results will vary):

• melancholic poodle
• anarchist tabby cat
• prissy ferret
• turtle with an affected limp
• hamster who is against gay marriage, but supports civil unions (very rare)
• avuncular tree frog

Note also that an animal may not identify as its biological type, i.e. the melancholic poodle listed above may not be a poodle at all, but a dachshund or monitor lizard. While pet biology and pet type (or “kind”) often coincide, the rule is not hard and fast. It is, in fact, slow and quite squishy. Be aware of this as you continue the naming process.

2. Conduct feasibility studies.
Now that you have knowledge of your pet’s innermost self and a solid foundation for your nomenclature, the real work begins. Consider your pet. Let’s say it’s a dog, since our earlier example was a dog and most likely, it is a dog. What is its personality? Does it have any distinguishing marks? Unique coloration? An odor (pleasant or unpleasant)? Singular habits or affectations? Does it wear a monocle? (If your dog wears a monocle, then you have one hell of a dog, and your dog should be naming you.) Many of these traits will lead to promising potential names, but do not limit yourself to the possibilities traits provide. Do not limit yourself in any way. Limits are for physics. You are naming your pet.

Compile a list of candidate names, no more than 97 (the lowest prime number less than 100) and no less than 21 (blackjack). Cross off any names you have already used for other pets or for children, terms of endearment for lovers, and any secret identities you have acquired, to avoid confusion. (“No, no, no, I need to speak to Captain Massive the vigilante, not Captain Massive, the French bulldog.”) This should leave you with exactly forty-seven names, even if you started with fewer than that. No one really knows why, and it’s best if you don’t think about it too much. Cross off the names you don’t like or are marked as potentially dangerous for your specific species or breed (see the subsection on the Radchyenko Pet Nomenclatural Matrix below) and you’re ready to begin.

Start by saying each name aloud in the presence of your pet. Do not address the pet; simply say the name into the room while the pet is nearby. Notice any changes in the room as the names are said. Have someone else observe your pet to see its reactions to each name as it is spoken. Body language and vocalizations on the part of the pet are of great import. If the pet ever leaves the room of its own accord while you’re saying the names, take note. If the pet solicits affection while you are saying the names, emit a high pitched whine, as if you were mimicking the Emergency Broadcast System. See what happens. No event is too small to ignore. Record everything in your naming log or personal journal, along with the names of teen heartthrobs you think are dreamy. This will come in handy later. Believe me.

After you’ve gone through the list three times, compare your findings with those of the person who was watching the pet. Some correlations should arise. Wherever the data congregate, there are your front runners. Repeat the process with the most promising names until only one name remains. This final name is the name. You are ready to proceed.

On the Radcheynko Matrix
If the data are shifty and do not cooperate, or if you are the kind of person who takes no pride in doing things properly, you may want to “cheat” and use the Radchyenko Pet Nomenclatural Matrix. Developed by Ukranian biologist Antole Radchyenko in the late 1950s, the matrix is an informational tool designed to prevent unfortunate pet-name interactions. the matrix lists various combinations of pet and name in convenient grid format, with footnotes regarding special circumstances and contraindications. Radchyenko was a strange man with many flaws (including a taste for canned fish products and rubber underpants, often used in conjunction), but improper pet naming was not one of them. Have you ever met a Boston terrier named Crackers? Or a Persian cat named Buttercream? Or a guinea pig named the Duke of Worchester (Revised)? Of course you haven’t, and you never will, thanks to the Radchyenko Matrix. Before making any zany, off the wall name choice, consult this handy tool. The wrong name will bounce around inside your pet’s skull like a beam of gamma radiation, leaving stupidity and incontinence in its wake. Don’t do this to your pet or yourself. Name safely.

3. Perform due diligence.
The right name now firmly in your brain, you are ready for the final hurdle: field testing. Begin using the name on your pet as if it was actually the pet’s name. See how the pet responds. If after 48 hours the pet is not responding, start the process over from the very beginning, preferably in a new town. In case of redness, swelling, or discharge, consult a veterinarian immediately, especially if any of the redness, swelling or discharge is being experienced by the pet.

No problems? Then congratulations! You have named your pet, correctly and responsibly. The dog (or whatever) is now part of your family, and is constitutionally guaranteed all the rights and privileges therein. Enjoy your pet, treat it with respect, and revel in the satisfaction that you have helped it achieve a coherent and positive identity. Now, if you could only do something about your own stupid name. Seriously, what were your parents thinking?

APPENDIX: A Note on Pre-named Pets
From time to time, a pet arrives in your life already saddled with a name. You may not feel this name is fitting, or cute, or properly reflective of your status. Unfortunately, the pet will already have adapted to this name, and changing it, even to a “truer” name, will be extraordinarily difficult. You have three options. First, you can add your preferred name to the extant name, creating a awkward Germanic hybrid. “Come here, Mackenzie-Scamp!” For maximum effectiveness, mutter the name you chose and say the familiar name loudly. In theory, this solves the problem. In practice, it is bullshit.

Second, you can force your desired name on the dog (or other pet, if you went that route) with no compromise. In the best case, you will get a sullen resentful pet with identity issues. Good luck with that.

Third, you can change your own brain and like the name the pet came with. This is generally the easiest and most painless option, as the human brain (unlike any animal brain) is basically built for self-delusion, and in no time you’ll think that you always wanted to name your dog Pookums. Also, it’s nicest for the pet. They don’t really care what you call them. They just want to play and be petted and fed and to love the hell out of you. So let them.

Happy naming!
The Hairy Skeleton

May Day was also at one time a big day for communists. As an explanation for some of the younger readers of The Hairy Skeleton: long long ago (nearly three decades!), “communism” was a competing ideology with capitalism. It involved the redistribution of wealth by the state, and everyone reaping the benefits of their homeland’s economic output. Unfortunately, the ideology contained one fatal flaw: communism assumed that at some point, through means that were never clearly defined, people would stop being complete assholes toward each other. As history is basically an exhaustive record of people being complete assholes toward each other, and there is no indication that the asshole-ishness of humanity will subside, communism was destined to fail. And boy, did it ever fail. Communism failed hard. Capitalism, on the other hand, thrives in asshole-rich environments, and thus persists to this day.

But communism meant well, and was still pretty cool in its way, so why not celebrate this moribund belief system by making some kick-ass crafts? C’mon kids, let’s go!

1. Make yourself a bushy Karl Marx beard and wear it around the house or to school. Real dead-German philosopher hair works best, but if you don’t have any, try yarn. Gray and black are traditional favorites, but you can pick any color you want. Or for extra super-realism points, grow a real beard of your own! Ask an adult to help you.

2. Write out terms and phrases from Das Kapital and The Communist Manifesto on pieces of paper, then pick random words and make your own posters celebrating the imminent dictatorship of the proletariat. Use crayons and markers, or if you have access to them, silkscreening tools or an offset press. Wheatpaste the posters all over the house. Demand higher wages and shorter hours from your parents. Yell loud! Bourgeois complacency tends to make people deaf.

3. If your demands are not met, build a crude effigy of your mom or dad (whichever is the easiest target from a public-relations standpoint) and burn it in the front yard, or if you don’t have a yard, in the street. (Note: if you don’t have a front yard, your parents are probably poor. This might dilute your message. Pick a richer neighbor to burn in effigy.) At the burning, have your most charismatic speaker rail against the abuses the proles have endured under your parents’ reign. This should help get any siblings who are “on the fence” sympathetic to your side.

4. Learn the ancient art of brick-throwing. The trick is to throw the bricks at things that will break.

5. Outsource the street-level violence to an impressionable younger brother or sister. Retire to the salon, or if you don’t have a salon, build one out of couch cushions. Over stolen cookies, debate the efficacy of various revolutionary tactics and the possibility of starting uprisings in other households.

6. Capitalize on your sugar high with an ill-planned squirt gun assassination of your father, who is trying to read the paper on his one day off and would like a moment’s peace. Draw out a detailed schematic of your plan, how to approach him, how many guns to use, the best escape routes, tape it up in your base of operations, then discard it and run screaming through the house, shooting everything. (Note: this strategy was very effective for Lenin and the Bolsheviks in October 1917.)

7. Once you have been sentenced to the gulag of your room, make a collage of your favorite historical communists, or even better, decoupage a lamp with their likenesses, assuming your parents will let you get anywhere near the glue. Tap morse code messages to your allies in other gulags. Plot the next coup…