I don't know anything about this station, but from what I can tell their programming slate leans heavily towards bikes, cannabis, and reggae, so there you go.
Secondly, remember when Australia's chief cultural exports were: 1) rock groups with lots of members; and 2) fish-out-of-water comedies? Well, sadly those days are long gone. Now, it's a steady stream of dismal cycling news, and the latest dispatch involves a guy whose iPhone exploded after he fell off his bike:
An Australian man is asking Apple to warn the public about the dangers of mobile phone batteries after his iPhone 6 caught fire, leaving him with severe burns.
Gareth Clear, a 36-year-old management consultant from Sydney, told local papers the phone caught fire when he fell off his bicycle.
He posted pictures of his injury on Twitter.
Apple has not responded to requests for comment.
Horrifyingly, the blast occurred mere inches from his scranus, and the victim described it thusly:
"I just saw smoke coming out of my back pocket... and then all of a sudden I felt this surging pain in my top right leg," he told the Sydney Morning Herald.
"I could see it melting through my shorts. I just remember looking at my leg and I had this black discharge all down my leg and this smell of phosphorus."
Wow. Melting shorts? Black discharge? The smell of phosphorus?
That sounds exactly like Satan ejaculating.
("Hey, do you smell phosphorus?")
Meanwhile, Apple have asked him for more information:
"Apple got back in contact with me saying that it looked serious and asking for more information so they could support me and replace the phone," he said.
Once he provides that information they'll almost certainly determine the explosion was due entirely to his use of an unapproved aftermarket phone case and that both skin and phone replacement are his responsibility.
Still, won't somebody think of the children? And the skiers? And the runners?
"Imagine if that was a young child, banging a phone against a table or someone skiing or running and the phone explodes?"
This strikes me as an odd series of concerns, because when I think of nightmarish scenarios that could befall innocent victims I have to say skiers are pretty much the last group of people on my mind:
Speaking of Portland (which I was earlier), I recently learned from reading BikePortland that streetcar tracks are taking out Toronto's cyclists at an alarming rate:
In the city with North America’s largest streetcar system, on-street rails almost rival automobiles as a factor in collisions that injure people on bikes.
That’s one major finding in the first academic study in North America dedicated specifically to the danger of streetcar tracks to people biking.
A situation the study suggests may be due at least in part to overdependence on Fred bikes with skinny tires:
• 54 percent of the bike types “commonly sold” in Toronto bike shops have tires narrower than the 34.5 mm flangeways in that city’s streetcar tracks. (Portland’s flangeways are 44.45 mm, Bower said. Based on Teschke’s data, the overwhelming majority of common bike types likely have tires narrower than flangeways here.)
Though I would caution policymakers not to draw any conclusions without first funding an additional study on what tire pressure the victims were running at the time of these incidents. Such a study would involve removing all warning signs such as these:
And then simply lying in wait by troublesome sections of track while armed with a pressure gauge:
Then once that study's complete in about 2027 or so, after millions of dollars have been spent, the city will reach its final conclusion, which will be to replace those signs.
Done and done.
Of course, here in New York City streetcar tracks are the one indignity we're spared, but that may change if this Brooklyn Queens Connector actually happens:
Sure, it may change the Great Hipster Silk Route into the Great Hipster Death Trap, but the real estate developers love it so that's all that matters.
In the meantime, we're getting a new police commissioner, and evidence suggests he has actually ridden a bicycle:
The 33-year officer was born and bred in East Flatbush, Brooklyn, and when he’s not wearing the badge, he’s often on two wheels — cruising on his bicycle or motorcycle.
“O’Neill is a Harley motorcycle enthusiast,” a police source said. “I know when he was in [the Fugitive Enforcement Division] he would cruise upstate on his Harley.”
An avid athlete, he’s a fan of ice and roller hockey, sometimes playing three games in a single day, law-enforcement sources said.
When his son went on a 9,000-mile bike ride, O’Neill cycled 1,000 miles down the West Coast with him, a source said.
Wow, those are some impressive credentials--or "FRED-entials," if you prefer--but I'll withhold judgment until I've actually seen the bicycle.