Moving
your body from place to place on a velocipede has many advantages
over using a motor vehicle, or walking. To ride bicycle, to mash
velocipede, is to issue a clear and open declaration of your physical
exuberance, hurtling, sweaty proof that you are in both good health
and high spirits. During your travels, you shall learn the rhythm and
character of your region's unique micro-climates (so that you might
weather the noon-time heat in a cool and shaded grove). You shall
search without pause for routes lacking in car traffic, those newly
paved, or routes superior in similar ways; your city will reward you
with unique views of treasures previously overlooked. You will see
and be able to explore more secret places more conveniently than if
you were driving in a car, while covering far more ground than if you
were on foot. Your iron horse requires no large metered parking
space, nor will you have to pay someone to watch it while you are
away. The only exhaust vapor you create is your own vital breath, and
the only waste heat you produce drips as sweat from your ruddy and
pliant skin. You will sleep well at night knowing that you dragged
yourself across the phaltscape burning only the fuel found in your
own tender guts.
As a
silent propulsion system, bicycling is similar to the Russian
caterpillar drive of myth, identical to it in all ways but that the
Commie bastards were fusion-powered. To move your body from place to
place without a nuclear reactor takes time and effort, and bicycling
is effort simple, honest, and pure. Dust off your old bicycle, you
lazy carbuncle, and help us give those stinking Reds what for.
Spes
Mea In Ratio Est - 場黑麥
John Paul Roggenkamp
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