Well, yeah, I'm not going to do that.
I have other shit to do.
Rest assured I'll loiter somewhere some day and give books away, but it's not going to be tomorrow.
Meanwhile, some Dutch people want twenty-five thousand of your British Pounds Sterling (a British Pound is like a US Dollar on HGH) for their new bike bell, which they spell with three "l"s for reasons I cannot discern:
Evidently it took six (6) designers to figure out how to make a bike bell look exactly like an Apple TV
It just goes to show that simply because something involves both bikes and Dutch people there's no guarantee it will be any good.
Also, where have I heard this before?
Still, the "Bell" is vastly more clever than the BikeWatch bike alarm:
BikeWatch from Elvijs on Vimeo.
Basically, it stymies the thief by emitting a mildly irritating beeping sound until he removes it by undoing the four screws that secure it to the seatpost and throws the fucking thing in the trash:
In other news, someone has finally made sense of this whole bike share thing:
Bicycles are one of the obsessions of Mayor Bloomberg and his transportation secretary Janette Sadik-Khan. Khan is the granddaughter of Imam Alimjan Idris, a Nazi collaborator and principle teacher at an SS school for Imams under Hitler’s Mufti, Haj Amin al-Husseini. The bio of his son, Wall Street executive Orhan Sadik-Khan, frequently mentions the bombing of the family home in Dresden and surviving trying times after World War II. It neglects to mention that the times were only trying because their side was losing.
In 1933, Idris wrote a letter asking why Allah would have chosen the Jews, whom he described as, “the most despicable, repulsive and corrupting nation on earth.” It’s hard to say what Imam Idris would have made of his granddaughter marrying a Jewish law professor and peddling bikes that no one wants from a nearly bankrupt Montreal government company.
But considering that Imam Idris was at times accused of being a Soviet agent and did some work for Imperial Japan, it seems likely that he would have understood.
In partial revenge, Khan has made many New York streets nearly as impassable as those of her grandfather’s wartime Dresden. Bike lanes have turned two lane streets into one lane streets. Infidels sit in their cars and honk while bike lanes go unused and midtown bus lanes sit empty except for the occasional daring taxi driver braving the bus lane camera and the 150 dollar fine.
Even Dorothy Rabinowitz is impressed:
By the way, Dorothy Rabinowitz looks a lot like Sean Penn in the movie "This Must Be The Place:"
If you think a movie named after a Talking Heads song in which Sean Penn plays an aging rock star who looks suspiciously like Robert Smith (or Dorothy Rabinowitz) and who returns to America to track down the Nazi war criminal who haunted his Holocaust survivor father would be bad, then you're absolutely right, but it was free on Netflix. Also, David Byrne is in it:
To me this is merely more evidence that the Jews, the Nazis, the Muslims, the Communists (do they still have Communists?), and the entertainment industry are conspiring to destroy America by augmenting our cities's mass transit systems with sluggish bicycles. The plot seems to be working, too, if Craigslist is any indication:
***Hottie with a BODY at the BiKe ShArE*** - m4w - 24
I was like, good gracious, Citi Bike is bodacious
Flirtatious, trying to show faces
I'm waiting for the right time to shoot my steez you know
Waiting for the right time to flash them ki's, then
I'm leaving, please believing, oh!
Me and the rest of my helmet-wearing heathens
Check it, got it locked at the top of the Fo' Seasons
It's only a matter of time before someone sets this to music, and I don't want to be within earshot when that happens.
Fortunately though, Americans have stupidity their side, and we'll probably be saved from this evil bike share plot by our moronic inability to operate vending machines:
Just walk to another station, you dimwits, there's one like every fourteen feet:
I'm surprised they've lived to physical maturity without dying of thirst in front of a malfunctioning Coke machine.