Butt Conserving

Waging an ever escalating battle for authority in a wastescape where churches, military, news media, police and politicians have all been exposed as corrupt, all you have left are lonesome bloggers, personal correspondents, and self. You'd hope, like Diogenes, the Cynic/Stoic of Sinope with his lamp, that at least one is as incorruptible as all those dead artists and writers you once admired. People take themselves too seriously; it's why you see so many disorganized and suppressed protests lately, from Occupy to Pussy Riot. Officials wrest control and outraged victims react badly. Nevertheless, you ought to exercise freedoms, like muscles, or they atrophy. You must always act after thinking things through; being absent, brainless or rash will kill you. Then again, so will religious bigots on slightest provocations.

Living fully means applying both body and mind. Diet, exercise and sobriety prepare you to earn a living and make wise decisions. Commuting by bike is one way to stay in shape. Some claim it's perfect, but nothing ever can be. If you live far from work and still want to ride, dozens of precautions must be observed, both in properly equipping self and riding along crumbling pavement afforded all traffic. Fear and inconvenience remain atop list of excuses not to ride. But, compared to motoring, biking is far less dangerous. This sense of vulnerability was broken down by blogger Dave Horton in "Fear of Cycling".

Labann always says, "You can ride almost anywhere at right time." Prohibited from highways, long commutes traverse narrow rural and suburban roads where motorists drive faster than usual. Suburban soccer moms spoil the safety of limited congestion. Yet all streets are empty more than full. While most roads are thick with impatience at rush hour, you can ride right down the middle of proverbial Main Street at 5:00 AM, but being alone on a bike at night is even scarier than being buzzed by school busses. As the Swiss documentary "Urbanized" explains, people are returning to cities because of rising fuel costs and sustainability issues. Bicycles suit millions packaged together. Yet conservative opinion continues its anti-bike tirade to consolidate oil profits.

Since a bicycle is not a vehicle, you shouldn't mimic motorists. You should cross when everyone else has red lights; in presence of other traffic remain right of solid shoulder line except to dodge debris and establish sight lines; slow and yield at stop signs (already law in Idaho), but stay moving so you can accelerate if needed; take to gore areas and sidewalks when otherwise unsafe on avenues and bridges; use all of road and best pavement in absence of other traffic. Motorists need not concern themselves with exhaustion, dress dependent on weather, remember to constantly hydrate, or scout and time fast routes. Not going to list again the 10 items to bring and wear. Just do it and soon figure it all out yourself.

If only those words are necessary that change minds and chart new courses, then best paragraphs are minefields of memes that suddenly explode into reader extremism or repentance. Anything else is boring or rebarbative. Imagine writers laboring for years in obscurity only to be ignored? Why bother? More time ought to be spent on making facts useful than merely recording them, more time really doing things than talking about doing them someday. But are people worth your efforts? History inevitably will be repeated by majority who doesn't read and doesn't want to be saved. Meanwhile, terrorists try to impose their will on others by attacking embassies and markets of bystanders or running for office through tactics that alienate 50% of voters. Appealing to fears and pandering to emotions will always profit more than raising awareness and using reason.

Brick Biplane

Unless you couldn’t guess, Bike&Chain was among the first books to mimic Internet surfing. Conceived in 1990, it paralleled Internet becoming commercial and going from 1% of trafficked information to 97%. Like network news and websites, its discussions are shallow and short, hopping randomly among peaks, substantiated only by reader’s willingness to accept unclaimed authority. Hitherto, books carried stamps of academic, ecclesiastical or editorial approval, studied topics in depth, and wasted a lot of time for those wanting to arrive at destinations before they die. Not quite true, encyclopedias also abbreviated facts and were arranged alphabetically for fast access, but were originally intended to end guilds, who held processes secret to exploit wealthy patrons. Once anyone could manufacture necessities, middle class and shared justice manifested widely.

A truism says, “Only in hometown and own house has a hero no honor.” Some homebodies do get cred and props. As with any generality, it’s only true so often; a broken analog clock correctly indicates time twice a day. Familiars are jealous, friends forgive your faltering first steps, and neighbors never expect anything worthwhile to whelm among them. Conditioned by availability of remote news, they tend to hire from afar, look toward horizons, marvel at successes elsewhere, and neglect own. Why is “World class” never local? It’s taboo to mingle within tribe; you don’t date relatives. Improves courting efficiency and gene pool to connect abroad. Even then, obstacles remain in bicker addiction, misogynist backlash, puerile provocation, and stranger suspicion.

Art could reflect society, but since so homogenous emotionally, genetically, and intellectually is there enough diversity to distinguish itself meaningfully? A Borg collective would be as busy and dull as a beehive, a featureless monolith. If your project doesn’t succeed in being downright different, it flies like a brick and nosedives into plain noise. Some argue that individuality is no longer a necessity, only cooperative actions stimulate progress, and thinking for oneself is offensive. Yet a stack of generalities can’t withstand onslaught of one weakling channeling might of Universe. Minds don’t even need a bicycle to spin through space and time, and that one fact is establishment’s worst fear. But Bike&Chain is only an insane paper plane tossed into a hurricane; from it there's no telling what readers will gain or retain, whether bane, mundane or wittily urbane.

Year in Song

To add to book's 1,000 entries, labored over weekend to compile another list neither comprehensive nor timely of songs related to bicycling released since this time last year. Keep doing this at intervals, but seldom find songs to add to collection of over 500 titles. Anyway, gave artist, title, and, where available, link, album, label and year.

Bellwether Ambassadors, "Bicycle", Bicycle EP, Lake Bonney Music, 2012
Billy Sans, "Bicycle Morning", Bicycle Morning, 2011
Gary Picard "Bicycle Rider", Bicycle Rider, self, 2012
It's Only a Story, "Village Bicycle" [single], self, 2011; misogynist twaddle disrespects nymphomania, and what's there not to like?
John and the Time Traveling Bicycle, [no related titles], Life As a Kite, 2012
Liam Merriman, "The Bicycle Song", Words in Music, Three Rivers Rec., 2011
One Lucky Sperm, "Dear Bicycle" [Swiss in English], One in a Few Million, Claxmusic, 2012
Sive (Sadhbh O'Sullivan), "Bicycle Song", We Are Moving, self, 2012
Sleep Decade, "Bicycle" [single], Gaga Digi, 2012
Stephan Matthieu, "A Bicycle for Max Matthews", New Music from Old Instruments, Incunabulum, 2012; and who is he, you might ask? Max Mathews, who died last year, created MUSIC, the first program to use a computer to synthesize songs. Harry Dacre's "Daisy Bell" was the first song sung by a computer just over 50 year ago. In homage, director Stanley Kubrick in feature film 2001 had murderous computer Hal 2000 sing it. Technically speaking, you can blame a lot of lame chart toppers on Max, but also credit emerging sounds found by virtuosos.
Sue Denim, "Bicycle" [single], Superhealthy, 2012; fun animated video accompanies catchy if repetitive tune
Team Me, "Riding my Bicycle", To the Treetops, Propeller Rec., 2012
Treasure Fleet, "High on a Bicycle", Cocamotion, Recess Rec., 2012
The Wigg Report, "Bicycle Religion", Bicycle Pop, self, 2011

Once Strong

Was a bad week for those named Armstrong. The first human ever to step foot on extraterrestrial soil dies, and Texas Johnny gives up fight to retain claim to another unprecedented accomplishment, winning 7 Tour de Frances.

Americans paid respect to quintessential spaceman Neil Armstrong. During the Summer of Love, 1969, recall listening alone but attentively to staticky radio halfway through night shift as this historic event remarkably unfolded. Must have been among the few who didn't catch the television broadcast witnessed live by hundreds of millions. You lose so much of life at work; without you important stuff occurs, kids grow up, and what good world has to offer goes to someone else. Every once in a while, though, an indelible memory is made on the job. Neil's was special beyond measure, what reporters dubbed "the right stuff", where fabulous preparedness seizes golden opportunity. All work should be so rewarding, but most resembles mind numbing drudgery or soul strangling slavery. These days budget conscious congressmen question billions spent exploring space, without which there'd be no personal computers (shrunk to fit aboard spacecraft) or thousands of other innovations that needed an extraordinary problem to solve. Explorations provide answers but raise more questions. Once Americans had hubris and stamina to tackle extreme challenges, but lately seem incapable of sensible enthusiasm or simple logic. Due to effective propaganda everyone became your enemy except billionaire exploiters who really do suck life from rest of world.

What can you say about Lance Armstrong? Arrogant? Duplicitous? Incredible? Unlike trickle down conservatives who pretend, he singlehandedly created thousands of jobs among bicycle component manufacturers serving wannabe racers. By giving up his fight against USADA's witch hunt, he finally showed real class. These governing bodies who suddenly get scruples shouldn't be allowed to retrospectively enforce rules. Everyone competing years ago took something to get an edge. From alcohol to anabolic steroids, substance abuse has been rampant in cycling since its inception. So Lance is banned from racing forever. Why should he care? Now he's just like anyone who rides to ride. He can still wear yellow, just like Labann. Memories and scars mean more than medals and trophies to those who've been there and done that. Any notion you are better because you pedal faster than others can only be described as delusional and ridiculous. Just as car racers' best seems a snail's pace compared to orbiting space debris, bicyclists will always be outdone by own contempt for cooperation or someone else who's faster or jealous.

Labor and leisure are intertwined in cycling, as much a form of transportation as a holiday recreation. If motoring weakens resolve, maybe pedaling restores strength lost to luxury.

Bullish Campaign

Boxers on bicycles? No candidates slugging it out, as if jobless citizens overwhelmed by cash worries are supposed to care about deliberate ruses covered in broad strokes by dilettantes. Bullish confidence? Not quite: bull and con buoying up a bull market bound to crash as soon as votes are counted. Not only has Labann campaigned repeatedly door to door but carefully considered alternatives to this inefficient and inequitable process of so-called civic duty.

Anyone who says they want to serve public and sit through mind-numbing legislative sessions is either a liar or a madman. Candidates don't fork over millions of their own money for a fraction of that in salary and privilege of serving. Power is the planet's most expensive and potent aphrodisiac. Metrosexuals and narcissists gravitate to this exclusive club to serve self. Less than a million buys a prestigious college degree and string of appending abbreviations; only a few can afford President, Senator or Supreme Court Justice before their names. Not born into royalty? Even queens borrow from billionaires and live on allowances. No living ex-president pays taxes, just one of the many perks of having occupied space and pretended to wield power, and you almost never hear of Congressmen or their family members killed on front lines.

Most people don't want to be asked their opinions, would prefer that someone be assigned roles or fired when they fail, yet wind up standing in line at some dingy polling place for a chance to choose between stand-ins for morality or practicality. Nobody you elect will improve upon your situation, since those who run world permit only those to run or stay in office whose policies align with their schemes. Nixon wrongly assumed he was in charge. Anyone opposed becomes collateral damage in a bigger battle among bankers, insurance companies, multinational corporations, and oil sheiks, each of whom bends policies in their favor. Laws don't apply to them; responsibility for their crimes, injustices and taxes have been shifted onto everyone else including you.

What can you do? Boycotts don't work; half of eligible voters often don't show, which is the only way some candidates get elected. Resign yourself as a victim? You need not participate. You're only a threat when you want something: decent housing, elected office, fair pay for work, promises from candidates, or some say in how you're treated. Teen pranks and prayers, like Pussy Riot's protest against Putin delivered irreverently in Moscow's cathedral, might put you in prison, too, which is what happens when repression goes unchallenged. Actions create examples to follow and role models to emulate. Milk toast efforts are abided suspiciously but accomplish little. In London, the have The Kindness Offensive, Polyanna action to ease pain the ridiculously rich cause.

Remember, there is no lack of wealth, only unequal distribution. Your dolor remains a principal profit center to feed off and funnel funds from. Each billionaire means 1,000 fewer millionaires or more unfortunates below poverty line. Eventually money loses meaning and value. Big fish devour small fry; eventually all fish die. Sharing resources justly and wisely fosters relationships and founds organizations.

Bike&Chain has whole chapters directed at charities and politics, yet very little written will be read, never mind solve problems. Riding a bike opens eyes to individual torment and nature's despoilment unless you inject steroids and wear blinders.