The More Things Change The More I Don't Care

First of all, as of this very moment, consider "registration" for the BSNYC Gran Fondon't "officially" closed:

You're probably wondering how I can close the registration to a ride that is not organized or sanctioned in any way, and for which there was no registration in the first place.  Well, "leading" a group of this size into the suburban wilderness is uncharted territory for me, so I want to make sure we can pull it off.  Therefore, I will not be responding to any RSVPs I receive after this post:

If you did RSVP before this post then you should have received details.

And don't worry, if it's not a total disaster we can try to put another ride together at a later date.

Secondly, regardless of where you ride this weekend, make sure you do so while wearing a proper pair of flatulence-filtering shorts, as forwarded by a reader:

I'm assuming these filter the odor out of your gaseous expulsions so you don't render the rider behind you unconscious, though I don't know why they're inside out.  Also, while I've heard of "shooting from the hip," I've never heard of "farting from the hip:"

It must happen though, otherwise they wouldn't make special shorts for it, now would they?

In other news, someone has launched the eleventy billionth "smart bike" project on Kickstarter:

This one's called "Vélosophy," and it's a bike, and smartphones, and apps, and who the fuck cares?

"It's no wonder that cycling has been virtually the same since its invention about 200 years ago."

Exactly.  I love how the first 30 seconds of most Kickstarter videos explain exactly why their product is completely unnecessary.  Except...200 years ago?!?

Now, I was never too good at the maths, but if I'm not mistaken 200 years ago it was the year 1815, which is two years before the Laufmaschine, or dandy horse, or crotch crutch, or whatever you want to call it:

The pennyfarthing didn't even come along until the 1870s:

So yeah, I'd say cycling has changed a fuckload over the past 200 years.

Nevertheless, despite solidly establishing the utter futility of their endeavors, these Kickstarter inventors persist in foisting their unfiltered brainfarts upon us:

"Vélosophy is about urban pedaling, technology, and social footprint."

First of all, why is he in a kitchen?  Second of all, what is a "social footprint?"  Are we just putting "footprint" after everything now?  Given the excessive use of words like "footprint," "curate," and "hack," 21st century English is beginning to make Orwellian doublespeak seem like poetry in comparison.  It's infuriating.  I'm about to curate my angry "emotional footprint" right on somebody's ass.

So what makes the Vélosophy so technologically advanced anyway?  Well, it tells you when it needs to be serviced:

I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking, "How fucking hard is it to glance at your tire tread occasionally?"  Well, sure, but why do that when you can visualize your "pneumatic footprint" in pie chart form?

Then you can make an appointment at the bike shop:

And after you're walking away you can decide, "You know what?  I'd really like to change my bike's 'aesthetic footprint' too:"

"Oooh, yeah, my 'coolness footprint' is really going to increase with these red accents!"

Et voilà!  When you pick up the bike your whims have become come reality:

Or, you know, you could have just called the bike shop, but presumably when you do it this way it posts photos of your stupid bike to Facebook, and Twitter, and Instagram, and Tinder, and Grindr, and Hoagie, and all the rest of them, ensuring your "social footprint" remains robust and engorged.

At this point however my "indifference footprint" is big enough to stomp out the sun.

Oh, the other revolutionary thing about it is that it has a basket:

Oh, sorry, it's not a basket.  It's a "scalable system that allows you to carry your things."

I guess I'm revealing my "ignorance footprint."

And yes, good for them that they're giving bikes to UNICEF, even if that part seems a bit tacked on:

Why not just cut out the middleman and the goofy bike business and just send them a check?

Back in the olden days when we were free-range kids with no smartphones they gave us cardboard UNICEF boxes for Halloween, we took them with us when we went trick-or-treating, and people filled them up with money.  That's HARD CURRENCY, baby!

What the hell was wrong with that!?!

Speaking of our shared wank-tastic future, Strava has launched "Strava Local," which presumably lets area Freds CURATE their own ride guides:

Strava has launched Strava Local, a new data-powered and athlete-curated travel guide for cyclists available in 12 cities worldwide.

Over 38 million Stava activities and billions of GPS data points from London, Paris, Berlin, Amsterdam, New York, Milan, Denver, Melbourne, Sao Paulo, Barcelona and Sydney have been used to provide locals and visitors with the best cycling (and running) routes in each city along with top coffee stops, places to buy gear and great photo spots.

Amazing.  That's a lot of "data points."  Can you imagine if the Freds of the world actually channelled their energy into something useful?  If just a fraction of them strapped cardboard boxes to their handlebars and collected some scratch for UNICEF then world poverty would be a thing of the past.

Strava product manager, Andrew Valko, said: “City guides have long been a valuable tool for travellers and locals alike, but ours are based on actual data. We have been able to work out where, when and why athletes tend to stop, which we have used to curate a selection of Top Stops and photo spots for each of the 12 cities.”

Really?  You need 38 million "Strava activities" and "billions of GPS data points" to tell you why "athletes" (read: Freds) stop?  Everybody knows they stop for two (2) reasons:

1) To drink coffee;
2) To pee.

Wow.

Perhaps next they can explore the causal relationship between these two activities.

Then again, "Strava Local" could be the think that finally gets me to join.  I figure if I "curate" a one-way ride over the George Washington Bridge, across the Delaware Water Gap, and into the wilderness I can rid New York City of its Fred population once and for all.

Just call me the Fred Piper.

Lastly, a Twitterer tells me that Mario Cipollini was on RAI talking about motors in bikes.  Unfortunately I don't understand Italian, but I did appreciate the Italian bike rap intro:

Also, a group of people gathered around Cipollini to soak in his wisdom (and assorted other bodily fluids) is an image that transcends language:

It's like Caravaggio painted "The Last Supper" on velvet.

And here's Cipo himself:

Again, I don't understand Italian, but I can make a pretty good guess as to what he's saying:

("My glandular footprint is huge!  I don't know about the bikes, but 'Li'l Cipo' has a motor that keeps him running all night long!")

You can't spell Cipollini without "pol(e) in," and you can't cure Cipollini without Cipro.