Monday, September 19

Forget Cars

I've had it. I am just sick of moto-fascists. They are not worth the stress-related weight gain they generate.

I'm doing all this for myself. Yeah, I'm selfish that way. I'm not riding a bike so Joe Schmoe can have a parking space or one less car to deal with on his commute. I'm not doing this as a favor to the City and County to help them reduce maintenance costs on the roads. I'm not riding my bike every day so my doctor has one extra appointment slot free each day and so my insurance company can amass huge profits from me.

No! I ride a bike because it makes the most sense for me and my family. I ride a bike because its the best choice for me. It keeps us resilient. It has dovetailed nicely with our lifestyle and has driven us to a more preferred lifestyle. I ride because I have the right and protection of the law to do so. I ride because I have a significant amount of infrastructure at my disposal that is bicycle friendly. I ride because it is an efficient means of transport for me and my garbage.

I'm sicking of getting riled up because someone acts like they're hot stuff behind the wheel of a car. Or should I say: "oversized gas-powered wheel chair?" I don't want my purpose in life to be attempting to educate moto-fascists. I'm done with that.

No more open letters to moto-fascists. No more communication with the enemy. I'm pulling back. I'm shutting them out. I will ride to protect myself and I'll stay within the confines of the law, but I'm just sick of hoping people will take a hint and start being nice.

I was honked at this morning for doing something within my rights to protect myself from harm. I can't stop and have a meaningful conversation with these fascists, and if I gesture, scream or bang on their back quarter panel with my u-lock I'm just contributing to the cyclo-hatred these people wallow in each day. So there is no point in interacting. Other than to SUPERBARK to prevent my own demise I am going to stop interacting on any kind of meaningful level with these terrorists.

As long as they don't hit me everything is fine. Right?

Of course I will be memorizing license plate numbers and using the aggressive driver hotline as necessary. But from now on I'll be involved in a war of attrition. Once the post-carbon apocalypse comes we'll see who fares or the moto-fascists.

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