If you answered two Anthony Weiners, you're wrong:
No, the answer is of course Zipp's new Fred casters, which harness the awesome marketing power of "biomimicry:"
Utilizing the principles of the emerging science of biomimicry, Zipp engineers studied the environment around them for instances of how nature solved similar problems of speed, control, and efficiency for the next generation of Zipp wheels. Think of a humpback whale’s fast but graceful movements thanks to the special features on the leading edge of its pectoral fins, or the unique micro texture of a shark’s skin, which gives it the ability to glide effortlessly through the water. These structures inspired Zipp advanced development engineers to, for the first time, systematically apply biomimicry to solve the complex challenge of designing a wheel that reduces both aerodynamic drag and side force.
Oh my god.
Please allow me to translate:
Utilizing time-tested principles of bilking Freds out of large sums of money by turning scientific terms into marketing buzzwords, Zipp's marketing team turned to Google to solve the problem of how wheels can't get any rounder and found this cool-sounding word "biomimicry." Think of a humpback whale's ability to make Freds feel better about the fact that they're at least 40lbs too heavy to get any performance benefit from these things, and think of a shark's skin because sharks are cool. These magnificent creatures inspired Zipp's hand-picked team of bullshit artists to solve the complex challenge of selling even more overpriced wheels to sucky Freds and tridorks who already own multiple pairs.
Come on, this is even dumber than Fizik's "Spine Concept," where you were supposed to pick an inner "scranus animal" before buying a saddle:
(I notice "I'm easily duped" is not an option.)
And yes, Brooks and Fizik are both under the same corporate umbrella, but at least Brooks's "Retrogrouch Concept" was a little more honest:
No matter how you responded the answer was always "B17."
Anyway, in addition to biomimicry and wheels inspired by the stiffness of whale boners, Zipp has also come up with a staggering amount of proprietary gimmicks. Here they are:
HexFin™ ABLC dimples
Showstopper™ brake track
ImPress™ NSW graphics technology (which I assume refers to the whale boner decals)
Holy shit, I feel like I just got HyperFoiked!
We're getting very close to the point where wheels will have more bullshit trademarked terms than actual spokes.
But they are hand-curated Indianapolis:
Each Indianapolis-made 454 NSW rim requires 12 hours to create and represents a true blending of hand craftsmanship and advanced manufacturing techniques. After each rim is laid up, molded, drilled, printed, and inspected, every wheel is assembled and tensioned entirely by hand in Indianapolis. 454 NSW rims are laced to our Portuguese-made Cognition hubs using Belgian Sapim® CX-Ray spokes and Secure Lock nipples for unmatched performance and reliability that is made to last.
Yet after all that you still suck.
No word if they're gravel compatible, so that can only mean a more expensive version is in the works. Presumably this pair will cost twice as much due to its biomimetic Gastrolith™ gizzard stone rim bed technology.
In other news, like many Americans I'm still thinking about the election. Specifically I'm thinking about how years from now when we're part of Putin's global empire we'll turn to each other and say, "So where were you when you learned Trump won?" Well, all I know is when I got on a subway train in Brooklyn everything was fine, and by the time I got off the train in the Bronx Trump had clinched it.
I shuffled off the train as if part of a funeral procession, but incredibly there were signs of hope! The area around the subway station is a pedestrian nightmare, but now it was littered with traffic cones. "Great!," I thought to myself. "They're finally going to do something about the quagmire of diagonal parking spaces:"
"And the goddamn sidewalk crater!"
As visions of pedestrian plazas and traffic calming and buffers discouraging heedless drop-offs danced in my head I checked out this sign and found out the reason for the cones is that they were filming an episode of "The Blacklist:"
My hopes were dashed twice in rapid succession.
Speaking of the election, I finally got a chance to take my official post-Election Day ride this morning, which is the reason for my more-than-usual tardiness:
I was very nearly home and riding up a particularly steep street when an oncoming motorist stopped and asked for directions.
"Were's the blah-blahblah-blah?," she asked, a cigarette dangling from between her fingers.
No excuse me, nothing.
It's a pretty quiet street, but there we were in the middle of it, with traffic liable to arrive at any time. I didn't immediately know the place she was asking for but I thought I did. I felt nervous and at the same time wanted to be helpful and so racked my tiny brain. Then it hit me:
Why the fuck am I bothering?
"Sorry, I dunno," I answered, and rode off.
And at that moment, I made a solemn promise to myself, which is to never, ever give a motorist directions again, no matter what the circumstances. I don't care if we're right in front of the place you're trying to get to, 'cause I ain't telling. The most you're getting out of me is a "No idea." Too often I have been stopped while cycling, 2nd Ave. traffic bearing down on us while some moron asks me how to get to 1st Ave. Too often I have been stopped while pushing a stroller in a crosswalk, my tiny window rapidly closing while some vapid SUV pilot attempts to tap my valuable wisdom. Too often I have been driving when some suburban dolt wastes a whole cycle of the light asking me how to get someplace while I bite my tongue to refrain from yelling, "I don't live in this stupid fucking town!"
So that's it, drivers. You've got your bluetooth, you've got your phones, you've got your Google Maps. You've got more navigational power than they did on the Moon landing.
You're on your own, suckers.