For Whom the Clock Cuckoos

I deserve credit for all manner of selfless contributions to society and popular culture, not least of which is my role as a sort of self-appointed "Kickstarter scout."  For the most part, this is a thankless job which involves sifting through a host of inventions ranging from ill-conceived to bewildering to downright useless.  Nevertheless, I do it anyway, for I am convinced that it is the Coleridgean slimy sea that is Kickstarter from which humanity's next great technological advancement will slither.

This is not that advancement.

However, I am compelled to bring it to your attention anyway.  Behold, the Monowalker!



Which, if nothing else, has an absolutely fantastic spokesman:

"My name is [?].  I'm living in the Black Forest mountains.  You know, that's a place where the cuckoos clock in the sounds of Germany."

Cuckoo indeed.

He continues:

"I'm a tour guide, and I'm hiking and climbing and biking since [?] years in these mountains and the Swiss Alps and around the world."

And, his eyes and deranged smile tell us, every single one of his tour groups disappears into the forest, never to be seen or heard from again:

Yes, [?] has a happy life, leading people into his beloved Black Forest mountains and then murdering them.  But there's just one problem:

"Since years I am carrying my gear and my backpack, always too heavy, never enough space for all my stuff."

By "stuff" he means "bodies," as well as the wooden rake he uses as a murder weapon:

By the way, the hands on the face of that cuckoo clock?

Human teeth.

But now, [?]'s problems are finally over:

"I've found someone who solve all my problems and carry all those 'things' for me."

Naturally I just assumed he meant a mute "assistant" named Hans who wears lederhosen and a ball gag, but he's actually referring to an idea:

That idea?  The "Corpse Caddy!"

Or, as they've wisely rebranded it so as not to arouse the suspicions of Interpol, the "Monowalker:"

The Monowalker is basically an off-road handtruck, and I'm not sure if this grim procession is heading into the woods to play a game of all-terrain golf, or to dig a mass grave:

Either way, check out how it clears that log:

It also attaches to the oxen--sorry, "hikers"--by means of this special belt:

Presumably the belt also locks to prevent escape, because as any serial killer or mobster will tell you, the most efficient way to dispose of the bodies is to make your victims carry all the tools themselves and then dig their own graves:

(That's not a hike, that's a fucking death march.)

Also, it has a disc brake you control with a bar-end shifter:

Which, if nothing else, gives me a fantastic idea for a practical joke to play on triathletes:

("I go to shift and then next thing I know, 'Fwap!'  Right on my face.")

Though generally they don't need much help in the crashing department.

I know what you're wondering.  Serial killers love fine dining, so you want to know if the Monowalker turns into a table.  Why, of course it does, Dr. Lecter!

Note the disembodied cucumber:

It also transforms into a bike trailer, which I gotta say is pretty nifty:

Not to mention perfect for staying one step ahead of the authorities:

Now all they'll find is a bunch of victims with telltale pitchfork wounds to the throat and a cuckoo clock fashioned out of a human skull, while you travel to the next city and establish a new identity.

Of course, if you prefer your Kickstarter inventions to be less morbid and more ambiguously phallic, then you'll doubtless be intrigued by the "S-Bar:"



All I can tell you is that it goes between your legs:

Oh, and the inventor wants eighty-five thousand of your Australian dollars:

That's even creepier than the "Corpse Caddy."

Lastly, in the tradition of concluding posts with tall bike videos (which I established yesterday and will almost certainly end after today), meet "one of Asheville's most recognizable celebrities:"

Facts about Asheville:

--Its most recognizable celebrity is a bicycling nun;
--It has a "comedy bus tour;"
--Both of these things are apparently newsworthy.

Watch your back, Portland!