Bicyclists vs. Motorists

I read this essay in The Encyclopedia Show on November 13th at the Red Stag Supperclub in Minneapolis. The theme of the show was Bicycles.

Over the past century, our culture has exalted the automobile high above the humble bicycle, with grave consequences for our national character. I quite enjoy riding bicycles, but it’s something I don’t do nearly enough. Far more often, I’m behind the wheel of a large automobile, and the difference between these experiences, I believe, provides insight into the decline of America.

When I am riding a bike, my mind is full of peace and joy, beauty and the laughter of children, all that is good and right in the world. My being is suffused with serenity. I become a fast friend to animals, children and the elderly. I love all of God’s creatures. My heart is full of light and love.

But when I’m behind the wheel, my mood quickly sours. Storm clouds gather. My mind turns to thoughts of revenge and murder most foul. Every perceived slight becomes an excuse for furious anger. The wellspring of hate deep within me erupts volcanically at the slightest provocation. My brain becomes clouded with paranoia. The sky turns dark and every other driver takes on the sinister sneer of an enemy.

The problem is that driving puts one in a far more murderous state of mind, while also putting one in a position to effectively act on this impulse. When you are operating a large automobile, you have both the means and often the mindset to commit homicide. And who is most often the target of this murderous rage? Why, the bicyclist, of course!

When I’m biking, I can appreciate the difficulty of navigating vehicular traffic on the city streets. That is when I am snapped out of my reverie and put on the back foot. I am the prey in this field, merely trying to survive the ordeal.

Behind the wheel, I forget all about the bicyclist’s fears and lose all patience with their slowness, uncertainty and imprecision. They are now my enemy, and, therefore, must be crushed. If they are an impediment to my progress, they must be dealt with – harshly.

It would not be going too far to say that driving puts me in a Capitalist frame of mind, while biking endows me with a Socialist outlook. I hate to get all political (Bernie 2020), but that is how it seems to me.

Driving, like Capitalism, is a zero-sum game. There’s no such thing as sharing the road. It’s every car for itself. Every car I let go ahead of me takes a second off my score, I mean, adds another second to my time in that infernal contraption.

But, when I’m biking, time is of no consequence. The journey is all. The destination is irrelevant. I’m living in the moment. I am at peace with Creation. I’m achieving Zen, experiencing ego death, becoming one with the universe and all that jazz.

If I dig deeper, I begin to see the source of this animosity. There’s an unconscious envy of bicyclists lurking in the heart of every motorist. They know that the bicyclists are living their best lives, while the motorists are not. In this formulation, the bicyclists comprise the elite, and the motorists are the unwashed masses.

But I know that I often earn this resentment through my elitism. When I am riding a bicycle, it endows me with a sense of superiority on many levels: morally, physically, psychologically, spiritually. I am literally above the motorists, over most of whom I tower on my bike. I can’t help but look down on them in their exhaust-spewing, mind-warping, climate-changing death machines. Who in their right mind would subject themselves and the environment to that kind of degradation? (other than myself for at least an hour a day)

During a briefly glorious stretch, I actually biked to work, and neither the exercise nor the wind in my hair could match the sense of moral superiority I felt in the knowledge that I was a bike commuter, one of God’s elect. Of course, the physical benefits were quickly squandered by the sedentary nature of the job, and any psychological benefits were squashed by the job’s soul-crushing nature.

So now you see how the bicyclist vs. motorist divide is the perfect allegory for our country’s deep political division. Clearly, we must address this gulf before America is cleft in twain. The bicyclists must get off their high horse, and the motorists must get over their homicidal fury. Only then can we do what needs to be done and elect Bernie Sanders President of the United States of America.

Prayers for the Revolutionaries

This was inspired by my time on a Witness for Peace Solidarity Collective delegation to Honduras in late March and early April.

1.

If you’re listening, O Lord, hear my prayer:

Let them fail.

Let them fall on their faces and be humiliated.

Let them disappoint us and fill us with anger.

Let them root around in the mud of politics.

Let them be embroiled in scandal.

Let them be exposed as the human beings they are.

Let us curse their names.

Let us wish they’d never been born.

Let us wonder what the point of all of it was.

Let them apologize and prevaricate.

Let them grow fat and corrupt.

Let them become what they fought against.

Just let them live.

2.

God, let them live on the muddy banks of Reality

And not in the hallowed halls of Memory.

Give them feet of clay to step awkwardly on

And not wings to fly above it all.

To you who would be immortalized:

Don’t you dare become a statue!

Don’t you dare join the pantheon of martyrs!

Valhalla has no room for you.

How could you leave us here alone?

How could you be so selfish?

And to you, the troubadours:

Don’t write songs about them as if they were already dead!

You stalk the living like a vulture.

Go back to your hiding place to compose more dirges.

And to us, the spectators:

Don’t you dare immortalize them!

Don’t you dare let them die!

Don’t pretend that you’re helpless!

Your power shames you.

Don’t let it go to waste.