They say that on Wednesday god looks the other way.

Not too long ago I mentioned this anti-blinky graffiti in Portland:

Odd syntax aside, it underscores a dispute in the cycling world nearly as contentious as the helment debate.  On one side are those cyclists who believe bright blinky lights are essential to safety, and on the other are ones who who find them annoying, blinding, hateful, and dangerous.

Then there's the guy riding around with only one pathetic little red blinky on his handlebars, but neither side will claim him because he's an idiot.

Like all bike-themed debates, the blinky light argument proves once again that cyclists have no common sense whatsoever and prefer following rules to modifying their behavior based on conditions.  The truth is that sometimes you need a retina-searing light cannon, and sometimes you don't.  Take last night, for example, when I returned to my Big Dummy which I had parked at the train station:

(My Big Dummy, not after dark and not at the train station.)

And which is packing Knog Blinders both front:

And rear:

First, an aside on the Blinders themselves.  Starting in the springtime, I park this bike outside at all times, where it is constantly subjected to the elements.  Rain falls on it.  Landscapers blast it with grass clippings.  I'm pretty sure one time I surprised a pair of raccoons fucking in it.  Simply put, it takes a lot of crap.

Apart from covering the Brooks saddle (if I don't do that a raccoon might try to copulate with it and I don't want it to get covered in "Proofide," if you know what I mean), I take no measures to protect any part of this bicycle from the rain, and that includes the lights, which means they've been sitting outside since the last snowstorm, whenever that was.  Moreover, I haven't had to actually turn on the lights in months, since it gets dark really late now and I'm generally not schlepping a kid around town on a bike at 9 or 10pm.

The point is, when I got off the train and unlocked my bicycle, I fully expected that the lights would have either lost their charge or simply failed altogether due to repeated soakings.

Not so, they both fired right up:

(BLAM!)

I was genuinely surprised, even though I shouldn't be, because everybody who advertises on this blog sells products that are totally awesome.

Okay, so back to the blinky debate.  As you can see from the above photo, the Blinders are pretty bright, which now that I think of it might be why they're called "Blinders."  (I'd always just assumed it was because you were supposed to wear them on either side of your head like a horse.)  Now, according to our syntactically-challenged friend out there in Portland, I should go "FUCK AND AND MY EPILEPTIC LIGHTS."  However, I respectfully disagree.  See, I may live in New York City, but the Great White Way gets pretty dark by the time it wends its way up to these parts, and this is what my part of town looks like at night:

As you can see, it's a very rough neighborhood, but with any luck they'll come and gentrify us soon.

Anyway, when I'm riding here at night, I'm not encountering spoiled Portland cyclists who throw temper tantrums because they have to squint occasionally.  Instead, I'm encountering SUV drivers who are deciding whether or not they need to bother stopping at a stop sign in a quiet residential neighborhood at 10pm.  And I can assure you that their decision is almost always "No"--that is until my Blinder hits them in the face.  Then they stop.  You know, because I might be a car.  (Drivers only stop for cars.)

So yeah, it seems pretty simple to me.  Sure, if you're surrounded by lots and lots of cyclists in a heavily trafficked area you don't need to be throwing off the serious lumens.  However, if it's just you and the occasional SUV you want as much light as you can produce.  In fact, lighting is one of the few opportunities we have to be on equal footing with drivers.  We'll never rival them in sheer vehicle tonnage, but we can at least match their headlights:

And their taillights:

By the way, I shouldn't have to point out that my smartphone camera is exaggerating the effect of the Blinders, because when you just do the old nighttime point-and-shoot pretty much every light looks like a supernova:

Oh, here's a blinky-light silhouette-selfie:

That's what you call "art."

Speaking of Portlanders, not only are they wincing from the hurty lights, but they're also being subjected to bike theft, and a reader recently forwarded me this cry of "Won't somebody think of the children?"

Yeah, see, that's not gonna work.  The problem is that it's adorable.  If I were the thief I'd have absolutely no problem convincing myself that I actually did this family a favor by bringing them closer together--plus any lingering guilt would probably be assuaged by all the methamphetamine.

Oh, and if you point out that Dad's "custom" bikes aren't technically custom then you're a gigantic Fred:

Moving on from Portland to San Francisco (yet staying solidly inside the Smugness Belt), I just watched the latter city's entry for the "The Bike Design Project:"


EVO Bike from HUGE DESIGN on Vimeo.

So what is the EVO?  Well, here's your answer:

The EVO Urban Utility bike is a hybrid bicycle that leverages a modular accessory platform for ultimate flexibility. 

When the hell did "leverage" replace the word "use?"  It must be horrible to live in San Francisco now.  I can imagine them all riding around on EVOs, walking into cafés and asking, "Can I leverage Bitcoin to effectuate a purchase of this latte?"

By the way, that tired narrator sounds like she could leverage a cup of coffee herself.

Also, as we saw yesterday, the Vanmoofy top tube is de rigeur on tomorrow's designer douche chariot:

As is the proprietary rack system which offers no advantage over a standard rack yet leverages its proprietary nature to be both limiting and inconvenient:

And of course an integrated cable lock which leverages enhanced flimsiness to offer ultimate unauthorized bicycle availability to the end-user:

And by "end-user" I mean "thief."

Indeed, to paraphrase the song from the '80s, the future's so twee, I gotta wear TOMS:

At least he's leveraging a helment.