I don’t like to hold myself as a moralist.

Don’t get me wrong. I most certainly have morals. However, when approaching a situation, and especially when approaching a situation in the public sphere, I don’t like to let my morals lead me. I like to let them inform me, and from there move with decisiveness.

As such, when I say that I do not like tattoos, you can know that I state that with more deliberate thought than just base hatred.

Let me explain.

I presume that most everyone knows what tattooing is. Perhaps some of you reading this right now even have tattoos. Fair enough. Tattooing goes back to the earliest beginnings of human history, with tattoos found on Egyptian mummies and perhaps even earlier.

Tattoos have, over the years, stood for any countless number of things. From symbols of status, declarations of love, signs of protection, adornments and punishments, tattoos have had a varied history. And in most historical cases I can contextualize.

So, let me be more precise, perhaps, in saying that I do not like the modern iteration of the tattoo.

For me, the meaning behind the tattoo is central. The permanency of the artform demands that. If you’re going to get a tattoo, something that will quite literally be a part of you forever (in most cases), why would you even consider placing Bart Simpson’s head anywhere on your body?

No love lost on "The Simpsons," but why would most people consider putting most things that are popular tattoos on their body? Skulls? Fire? Mythical creatures? Even well-intentioned tattoos, like hearts, names of loved ones who have passed, or inspirational quotes and passages from religious texts seem something outlandish for my taste.

While it is sweet that you love your dead Uncle Ben, how does slapping his face on your shoulder serve to memorialize him? He’s gone and passed, and you’re stuck with this strange portrait on your body, one that you can’t even see half the time.

Though it can cut both ways, truly the statement by people who have tattoos who tell me that most of the time they forget they have tattoos, especially if it’s in an out of sight place, baffles me. If it does nothing for you (or for anyone else) why have it?

What’s more, I have yet to touch on the cliché. There was a period in time where a tattoo meant something. Whether symbolizing a class, a movement, a group (sometimes of an unsavory nature) tattoos carried a significance in part because of their exclusivity. Now everyone and their grandma has a tattoo.

Especially in the vein of the stereotypical “white girl,” who is apparently obsessed with nothing more than Starbucks and yoga pants, tattoos of birds, flowers, or whatever else seem abundantly common. In getting such tattoos I feel that many of my peers are not only tying themselves to something meaningless but also feeding this stereotype. If you’re going to do something as significant as permanently scar your body, why not opt for a little originality?

Now, I know, I know there are counterarguments to just about all of these points. I know there are aspects of this that can be chalked up to personal taste. And I don’t deny the expressiveness that tattoos allow a person. But a t-shirt can be expressive, too. So, can a piercing. And while other body modifications like this also scar parts of the body, few things are as permanent as the tattoo.

So what do you I really mean? I guess aside from my own personal dissatisfaction, I would implore people to think. To ponder. While not the only reason for tattooing, there seems to be less and less contemplation of that nature in our fast-paced world. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little more of it.