Data Wranglers: Fred Fight at the Flat Bar Corral

In the 17 years that I've been "curating" this blog, I've witnessed many things I never thought would come to pass. I've seen "fixies" sold at Walmart. I've seen Letle Viride play his first gig since 1969, when he took that bad acid and locked himself inside a port-a-potty for 46 hours. And now, I've seen Cadel Evans win the Tour de France.

Like most cycling fans, when I woke up this morning I thought I'd merely dreamed Evans's victory. However, once I hit the bathroom and opened the newspaper I realized that my dream was actually reality:


I found the entire article quite moving, but perhaps no line was more evocative than this one:

“It was really amazing to see him grit his teeth and just keep coming,” Jeffrey said.

Wow. Jeffrey must have been watching the uncensored European coverage, because here in America we didn't get to see that on Versus. Then again, we're a prudish culture. Sure, we did get the "Big George After Dark" special, but it was on pay-per-view and you had to be over 18 to order:

("Big George II: What The Bernie Saw")

For my part, I'd just like to set modesty aside for a moment and point out that: 1) Yesterday I filed the very first 2012 Tour de France preview (suck on that, "legitimate" journalists); and 2) I called the Cadel Evans victory way back on Stage 4:

Oh, how they laughed when Bicycling.com com filed my posts under "Expert Analysis"--and nobody harder than me, since calling me an "expert" on professional cycling is like calling Jerry Seinfeld an expert on aviation because he made a bunch of airline jokes. Moreover, being an "expert analyst" on Bicycling.com is arguably like being the sommelier at the Olive Garden anyway. Nevertheless, I feel I've now earned my expert stripes, and emboldened by my own sagacity I'm going to go ahead and predict that Cadel Evans will become Prime Minister of Australia within the next 10 years.

Sure, it may seem far-fetched, but when those bushy eyebrows are staring back at you from the Australian $17 bill (Evans's first act as Prime Minister will be to introduce a $17 bill and put his face on it) remember where you read it first.

Also, next time you're at the Olive Garden, may I recommend the Boone's Farm. It goes good with everything.

Speaking of the Tour de France, if you were watching yesterday's stage on Versus (the Olive Garden of sports networks) you might have seen this commercial, to which I was alerted by an esteemed reader:

In it, two Freds drift into town like tumbleweeds who shop at Performance and roll up to the local watering hole. One of them is on a flat bar bike, and the other on a bike with like those curly-type handlebars that they use in the Tour de France:

After securing their dorkcycles to the hitchin' post, they begin comparing units surreptitiously, like two businessmen at a urinal:

Flat Bar Fred has the new iBike Dash from iBike, and we can see from his easy-to-read and simple-to-navigate display that he's ridden eight (8) whole miles:

This is the expression a Fred with a flat bar bike makes when he sees he just cranked out eight freaking miles:

("Uh, can you say, 'Killin' it?'")

Meanwhile, Drop Bar Fred has some stupid old-fashioned computer like the kind the Amish people use on their buggies:

We don't see how many miles he's cranked out, since his display is miniscule and almost impossible to navigate. However, we do see that he wears a look of consternation, like a man who's having trouble in the bedroom:

("This never happens, I swear!")

Then we go back to the Flat Bar Fred, who has a full-on data boner. We can see his speed, distance, time, and even power:

Note that Flat Bar Fred has attained a maximum speed of 25.9mph, which is more than half the speed at which a Fred goes, "Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!"

Presumably then, the Flat Bar Fred has not gone, "Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!" However, given his self-satisfied demeanor, we can infer that 7.9 miles and 25.9mph are the exact distance and speed at which a Fred becomes unbearably smug. We can also draw the following conclusions about the Fred-iverse:

1) Flat bar road bikes are the new drop bar road bikes;

2) "Decades" are the new century;

3) No ride is too slow, too short, or too pathetic to share and immortalize in digital form.

Of course, any true retrogrouch would scoff at the notion of using a smartphone as a cycling computer. If you like your rims boxy, your frames lugged, and your shifting friction, then you also surely use the age-old practice of "chamois divination."

Soothsayers of old used to tell the future by examining sheep's entrails. Similarly, the retrogrouch can ascertain every detail of a ride by studying the appearance, odor, and residue inside a pair of cycling shorts. Speed, distance, power...the well-calibrated nose can tell all of these things from a single whiff of a post-ride chamois. Even today, an experienced European soigneur is more accurate than the most sophisticated computer, smart phone, or power meter. Allen Lim may make his riders swallow thermometers, but his wizened Belgian counterparts are able to base entire training programs on taintal funk.

Nevertheless, Freds continue to adorn their cockpits with instrumentation that would be more than sufficient to pilot an aircraft--and speaking of aircraft, another reader tells me that, while David Byrne may not own a car, he does travel by helicopter:

Evidently, Byrne has forgotten a fundamental Law of Smugness, which is that you don't get to brag about not driving when you travel by helicopter. Jets, helicopters, boats, tour buses--sure, those are all fine, just as long as you don't ever hop in a Honda Civic. Of course, he did take a bike ride after the helicopter trip, so I guess it cancels out. Still, taking a helicopter to the ride makes the mountain biker who drives three miles to the trailhead seem like a food coop volunteer in comparison.

Lastly, here's a helicopter-inspired cockpit that was spotted by a reader:


I think this should have been included in the iBike Dash commercial. It would have given them both cockpit envy.

Water Water Everywhere: The Revolution Will Be Thirsty

Like anything else in cycling--bicycle choice, wardrobe, body hair "curation," and so forth--watching the Tour de France is not a simple matter. Rather, the manner in which you follow the race is a profound statement about your sophistication as a cyclist and fan. For example, if you want to put yourself forth as a true connoisseur, you're not supposed to watch the Tour on Versus. Instead, you're supposed to say stuff like this in a world-weary fashion:

"Ugh, Phil and Paul are so insipid."

"Too many commercials."

"You know, those vivid HD pictures actually distort the color of the yellow jersey. In real life it has much more of a 'dehydrated urine' tone."

And so forth.

So what's the acceptable way to follow the Tour in America if you're a savvy cycling fan? Well, on obscure European Internet feeds, of course. Tell people you're watching the Tour on Versus and you're a dork; tell them you're following a pirated feed of a Belgian cable public access channel in which a 87 year-old retired kermesse racer sits in front of a black-and-white TV in a pub and and gives inebriated commentary entirely in Flemish and you're an expert.

Also, you get additional Tour expertise points for the length of the URL, and if you want the link to that Belgian feed here it is:

http://www.flem-tastica.be.LmJl&qesig=xwpmUo58hj2o5zalkPzM6w&pkc%asstastic.biz

Trust me, you'll find it riveting. Really, following the Tour this way is what the fixed-gear bicycle used to be before it became mainstream: a major inconvenience that serves as a stamp of authority.

But no matter how you choose follow the Tour, I think we can all agree that getting your cycling news from ESPN is like getting your wine at the gas station or your historical facts from Sarah Palin. This is why the recent "ESPNGate" incident in which their on-air personalities douches mocked the Stage 9 crash was anything but surprising. If you were fortunate enough to miss it I summed it up on the Bicycling.com website, and if nothing else the whole affair makes those incessant Weezer/IZOD/Verizon/IndyCar marketing orgy "collabo" commercials on Versus seem infinitely more palatable.

By the way, if you're the sort of person who watches the Tour on obscure Internet feeds (or uses the word "retrofit"), another way to bolster your image as a cycling expert is to tell people how they can use your bike when you sell it to them, as in this ad which was forwarded to me by a reader:

Guess what? When you sell a bike the buyer gets to do whatever he or she wants with it, no matter how stupid it is. If someone wants to turn this into a fixed-gear tall bike and ride it back and forth past the seller's house while dragging all those Campy Super Record parts behind it like "Just Married" cans then I say, "Go for it." In fact, I'd love to see an "edit" of just that, so if someone wants to launch a Kickstarter campaign to raise the necessary $1,500 I'd be happy to contribute.

Unfortunately though I only have so much money earmarked for self-indulgent grassroots art projects, which means if I were to donate to the Merckx owner-baiting tallbike "edit" I might not have enough left to help this person record banjo songs about water:

As the artist explains:

We all emerged from the water and are more than 2/3 made of this. We hold within our skin a reservoir that allows our life to exist. We mirrors to each other, we carry and amplify vibrations, we are mediums of growth and can be museums of pollution and stagnation. Symbolically, water holds the creative visions of our dreams and ignites conductivity for change.

In other words:



Yes, water is essential for human life. We drink it from plastic bottles:

We hurl it at our adversaries:

And we use it to dilute far more important resources, such as oil:

Therefore, she is making a theme album about water:

I am recording an album dedicated to manifesting global health and wealth. I’ve written eight songs that embody and explore aspects of my connection with the water within myself and my environment. Through this fundraiser I will raise money to make and share this music. I am creating a new channel through which currency may flow.

She also tours with a group called "The Pleasant Revolution," who travel by bike, and by the looks of things I'm guessing her "connection with the water within myself and my environment" does not include showering in it:

Nevertheless, she explains, if you support her album "you will be supporting a bike-touring music culture:"

That's right, there's now a "bike-touring music culture." As you can see above, this "culture" is in fact wholly self-contained smugness bubble consisting entirely of musicians who power their equipment by bicycle during performances. There's absolutely nothing extraneous or unnecessary--like, for example, "personal hygiene," or even "an audience."

See, in the bike-touring music culture, audiences are regarded with contempt. Not only do they consume precious resources such as water, but they also force the band itself to consume additional water since the cyclists have to pedal that much harder in order to power the generators. Therefore, members of the bike-touring music culture avoid doing things that might attract an audience, such as showering or being in any way entertaining. This allows them to remain completely audience-free.

The only catch is, not having an audience means there's nobody around to give you money in exchange for providing them with entertainment or even water to consume at your shows. This is where Kickstarter comes in, and, as the artist says, "I need your support to make this project happen."

Give it to her, or she will hypnotize you with her eyes.

If you're a contrary Earth-hating resource-wasting fascist, you may be asking, "So why do I have to underwrite the water album?" Well, first of all, feathers for your hair cost money--it's not like they just fall from the sky and float gently to the ground. Second of all, this is Uh-merica, and even people who wear feathers in their hair and love water don't give their services away for free. If you want something for nothing, you're going to have to go to a communist country like Canada, where a reader tells me they're actually giving away bike lanes:

Wow, free health care and free bike lanes? If they ever get running water up there I may have to move.

You Are What You Eat: The "Other" Salmon

This Saturday, July 2nd, the Tour de France bicycle cycling race will begin. As it happens, I'm supposed to write about this bicycle cycling race for the "Bicycling" magazine website, so with only two days to go I figured I might as well look into who's actually competing in it. In this sense, I am heading into the unknown--just like Alberto Contador:

So will Contador win the Tour again? Well, that depends on two things:

1) Is he too tired after winning the Giro of Italy?

and;

2) Can he win without meat?

Yes, that's right, after falling victim to the steak that bites back last year, Contador has given up the red stuff:

Contador Gives up Meat

Contador says he has stopped eating meat since testing positive for clenbuterol on last year's Tour de France, a result he blamed on contaminated steak.

The 28-year-old favourite to win this year's Tour, which gets underway on Saturday, also said in an interview published on Wednesday that his Saxo Bank team will have its own cook this year.

"No, I have not eaten meat again," he told sports daily Marca when asked if he had eaten meat since traces of clenbuterol were discovered in a test on the second rest day of the 2010 Tour, which he won.

You've got to admire Contador for not only sticking to the tainted steak story, but also going so far as to give up meat altogether in order to make it seem more convincing. It's like the "Seinfeld" episode where Jerry had to wear glasses all the time so he wouldn't offend Lloyd Braun. Still, I'm not buying the part about Saxo Bank hiring its own cook, since that sounds expensive. I'm pretty sure when they say "cook" they just mean they're giving one of the mechanics a copy of "Babe's Country Cookbook: 80 Complete Meat-Free Recipes from the Farm" and telling him to get to work:

Babe says, "Don't eat the little piggies."

Meanwhile, a fellow Tweeterer informs me that Dave Zabriskie is attempting to do Contador one better by riding the entire Tour De France on a vegan diet:

This might be newsworthy, except for the fact that as part of his "vegan" diet Zabriskie "plans to eat small amounts of salmon two days per week," which means his diet is about as vegan as Babe's ass is kosher.

Now, when it comes to eating, I say eat whatever as long as it's not endangered, makes you happy, and keeps you regular. Want to join the "nose to tail movement?" Good for you. Want to go vegan because you can't stand even the thought of a human hand tugging on a bovine udder? Perfectly fine. Want to eat the heart of your human enemy while it's still beating so that you may absorb his powers? Well, you probably shouldn't do that, if only for sanitary reasons.

But regardless of what you eat, you don't get to call yourself a vegan if you eat salmon. That's it. Once that pink flesh passes your lips you're out of the squat and banned from the coop. Turn in your hemp shoes to the smelly guy lying on a mattress he pulled from a Dumpster, and don't let the door with the punk show flyers all over it hit you in the ass on the way out. That's all there is to it. If you need a fancy, pretentious name for yourself, then I guess you can call yourself a "pescetarian." (That's someone who only eats Joe Pesci.) But all it really means is you're not a vegan; you're just another lox-munching schmuck.

Anyway, apparently Zabriskie is being mentored by another pretend-vegan athlete:

Zabriskie also consulted with a professional motorcycle racer, Ben Bostrom, also a vegan, who advised Zabriskie to include small amounts of fish a couple of times a week because of the incredibly large load he puts on his body during training. "He told me, don't get too hung up on the word 'vegan'," says Zabriskie. The fish, Zabriskie says, helps his body absorb certain vitamins and iron.

Again, I don't care what people are eating, but the word "vegan" means what it means. Don't get too hung up on the word "vegan?!?" Getting hung up about stuff is what being a vegan is all about! He's as bad as these minimalists who only have 15 things...except their accessory chargers. And their toiletries. And the fully-equipped luxury condo and summer house they share with their wife. Certain areas of life need to remain black and white, and the profoundly irritating self-righteousness of veganism is one of them. I mean, what if you replace the word "vegan" with "clean," and the word "fish" with "EPO?"

Zabriskie also consulted with a professional motorcycle racer, Ben Bostrom, also a clean rider, who advised Zabriskie to include small amounts of EPO a couple of times a week because of the incredibly large load he puts on his body during training. "He told me, don't get too hung up on the word 'clean'," says Zabriskie.

Or, what if you used "virgin" and "sexual intercourse?"

Zabriskie also consulted with a professional motorcycle racer, Ben Bostrom, also a virgin rider, who advised Zabriskie to include small amounts of sexual intercourse a couple of times a week because of the incredibly large load he puts on his body during training. "As he caressed me, he told me, don't get too hung up on the word 'virgin'," says Zabriskie.

I may have added a few extra words there, but I think you see my point. Being a vegan is like being a virgin: you either is, or you ain't. As far as I'm concerned, Zabriskie can eat all the salmon he wants. But he doesn't get to call himself a vegan, and he's officially out of contention for the maillot hemp traditionally given to the vegan riding highest on the GC. Nor does he get to wear a vegan tattoo:

(Vegans often opt for wrist placement since the word "vegan" is incompatible with knuckle tattoos.)

One rider who would never play fast and loose with the definition of veganism is the time-traveling t-shirt-wearing retro-Fred from the planet Tridork--or, as one reader informs me he is now called, "Bret:"


"If it rains take the bus," you say? Well not Bret! He trains for that century even when it's cloudy and drizzly:

Bret is clearly logging some serious miles. I don't know which charity ride he's training for, but I'm pretty sure he's going to dominate it.

Meanwhile, in the comments to yesterday's post (Critical Mass guy is still emailing me by the way), commenter "Mikeweb" linked to a distressing article:

I'd love it if we never had to read about a serious bicycle accident. However, as long as we do, it would be nice if the reporters could at least not always go out of their way to immediately mention whether or not the rider was wearing a helmet:

Ray Deter, 53, owner of d.b.a. New York in the East Village and d.b.a. Brooklyn in Williamsburg, was not wearing a helmet when he was hit on Canal St. as he headed to work.

What is the point of this, apart from unnecessarily heaping additional blame on the rider? He may have turned heedlessly as the article says, but whether or not he was wearing a helmet at the time has nothing to do with that decision. It's like the "Vegan Times" reporting on the incident and writing, "The victim had eaten a hamburger earlier in the day." It's a tacit judgment, and it's a device reporters love to use when writing about cycling.

Also, it takes two to have a collision, but I guess we just have to assume the 24 year-old in the Jaguar who keeps his weed in the car was driving safely (on Canal Street, where nobody ever speeds)--and also wearing his helmet, since the article doesn't say anything to the contrary.

On a much happier note, I've been waiting and waiting, and finally someone has reviewed the Mario Cipollini bike:


There were a bunch of words in the review, but these were the only ones I noticed:

a peach

tube shapes

curving around the rear

head

oversized, tapered

planted

seriously aggressive position

deep-section

riding position

feels close

full-on

massively oversized

taut

great fun to ride hard

overbuilt and stiff

buzz

vibration

remarkably good

spend all day

aggressive position

always in an ‘attack’ position

a lot of pressure on your lower back

not easy to sit up

Whew! I feel dirty.

Slap a noseless saddle on that and you may never experience "down time" again.

Agents of Change: Of Freds and Men

The empowering effect the Internet has had on humanity is so profound and far-reaching as to be immeasurable. It has fomented revolution in the Middle East. Videos of doggie "three-ways" are merely a mouse click away. And now, as Klaus from Cycling Inquisition tells me, you can decide who's going to be on Team RadioShack's (pronounced "LAY-oh-pard Trek") Tour de France team:

Yes, that's right: Johan Bruyneel, a director who once reigned over a Tour-winning machine like a potentate, is now allowing you to pick, say, Robbie McEwen in the same cavalier manner in which you might "like" a doggie three-way video. Then, once the lineup is set, I imagine RadioShack will "drop" their new "app:"

With the RadioShack "U-Direct It!" app, you're in the driver's seat of the team car, and you get to control all the action from your smartphone or tablet:

[Note: "Attack" button not compatible with Levi Leipheimer.]

By the way, RadioShack aren't the only ones taking social networking to a new level at this year's Tour, and for the first time TV network Versus is offering viewers the opportunity to choose the commentating team. This could spell trouble for the venerable duo of Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen, for beating them in the polling at the moment is the unlikely pairing of actor Morgan Freeman and fictional 1980s newscasting puppet Gary Gnu:

This may seem a bit arbitrary, but word is they totally "killed it" last year when they co-hosted the Latin Grammys.

In other professional cycling news, controversial rider Riccardo "The Cobra" Riccò recently sneaked into a Fred ride to "help his friends achieve a better result:"

Apparently, he jumped out from behind a house like a silent movie villain, joined the ride, and then totally bogarted the showers at the finish:

Despite being told to leave the event by other participants, Riccò rode the whole course and then even had the nerve to use the shower facilities provided by the organisers at the finish in Voghera, near Milan.

By the way, Riccò is not the only controversial professional to "ride bandit" in this fashion. Back in 2008, the Rock Racing team actually jumped into a race in Brooklyn's Prospect Park when they were in town for the Harlem Skyscraper Classic. Of course, Rock Racing ultimately folded, but with the right look Riccò could have a long career ahead of him as an organized ride-crasher. I think he should get his hands on a fixie and dress like this, which would allow him to slither undetected into rides like the Five Boro Bike Tour:

The above image was forwarded to my by a reader, who cannily observed that the rider is clearly the time-traveling t-shirt-wearing retro-Fred from the planet Tridork's evil doppelgänger:

It's clear to me now that we stand on the cusp of an apocalyptic war between Good and Evil that could very well lay waste to the Universe, and that at this point there is only one man who can save us:

It is written in the Book of Fred that if the Lone Wolf should take the maillot jaune, mankind shall be saved. Of course, for that to happen, we need to get him a spot on the Team RadioShack Tour de France squad, but once he has his white-sneakered foot in the door winning the overall should be easy for him.

Speaking of empowerment and changing the future, from Athens, Greece I recently received a link to by far the most socially significant fixie "edit" ever "curated:"

The Prism: Riders on the Storm from localathensfilms on Vimeo.

If you're wondering what motivates these riders, according to the video their goal is two-fold:

1) "The creation of a community which will reflect the ideas of the group and will have a more solid political stance in relation to all that goes on around us;"

and

2) "The creation of conceptual actions that basically aim to reinforce collective imagination of the city's inhabitants towards a specific direction."

Wow. Meanwhile, this remains the state of affairs here in Canada's oversized bottom bracket:

I suppose you could also call that a conceptual action that reinforces collective imagination towards a specific direction. Granted, I'm not sure what that specific direction actually is, but I'm guessing it's somewhere towards the vicinity of the snack drawer.

And elsewhere in not-America, a reader informs me that some Stockholm politicians feel cyclists should be allowed to run red lights:

“As a cyclist you want to feel free and it is not as easy to go an extra two blocks as if you are in a car. There is a risk that people ignore the rules anyway, and then it is better to make it legal in an orderly fashion,” he said to daily Dagens Nyheter (DN).

Sounds perfectly sensible to me, but of course the big question is this: "So what about that teen boy who grabbed his principal's butt?"

Well, it's an unfortunate situation, and the principal reportedly feels "humiliated:"

She doesn't look all that humiliated to me, but then again Swedes can be difficult to read.

Lastly, from our nation's capital, a reader has sent me this exquisite example of a disembodied arm:

I just wish I could figure out how he's making that bike stand up without a kickstand.

It must be Photoshopped.

Street Justice: Crime and Punishment

As the competitors in the Tour de France professional bicycle racing race enjoy their rest day, the world of cycling was rocked by the news that Serbian rider Ivan Stevic was ejected from the Tour of Quinghai Lake professional bicycle racing race (which experts predict will eclipse the Tour de France in popularity by 2015) for "aggressive saluting:"

Unlike the infamous Mark "Man Missile" Cavendish salute in the Tour of Romandie, which was directed at the journalists who "know jack shit about cycling," Stevic's gesture was directed "at his team's mechanic who had previously joked about his form." Here is a picture of the mechanic, who took the ribbing with typical Southern good humor:

In addition to being thrown out of the race, Stevic received a fine of 1,000 Swiss Francs (or roughly 1,400 Tunisian Dinars), which is equal to what both of the participants in the infamous post-Stage 6 front wheel bludgeoning incident were charged. Incidentally, it's worth noting that this fight was broken up in part by former professional cyclist and Versus commentator Frankie Andreu:

Who charged boldly into the scrum despite having only a pair of flip-flops and a bib bearing the number "69" for protection:

In any case, I think the UCI is making far too much of these supposedly "obscene" victory salutes, and as long as the "pants yabbies" remain inside the bibs everything else is fair game.

Speaking of "fair game," among Floyd Landis's allegations was the claim that the Discovery Channel cycling team sold their team bikes for drug money, and while team director Johan Bruyneel of course denies the drug part he has confirmed that the team indeed sold bikes on eBay:

Intrigued that I might perhaps be able to score a good deal, I headed straight over to eBay, and while I was unable to find any bicycle offerings from any Bruyneel-"curated" teams I did find a brace of Garmin-Slipstream bikes. There was a road bike:

As well as a time trial bike:

Both had been raced in the 2009 season, and both were being offered by a seller named "jonathanrider1," along with numerous other pieces of Garmin-Slipstream kit. Since to my knowledge there were no riders named Jonathan on Garmin-Slipstream in 2009 (and since the bikes were different sizes), I dismissed the idea that this was a former team member making a private sale. This left only one Jonathan--team director Jonathan Vaughters. Clearly, I had stumbled upon his brazen scheme to sell team bicycles in order to either fund a doping program, or else to fund his insatiable wine, tweed, and ascot habit.

Of course, anybody who's either followed cycling for awhile or hunted for online bargains knows that lots of this pro cycling crap eventually winds up on eBay one way or another, and without a subpoena I have no way of knowing for sure who "Jonathanrider1" really is, so while I briefly considered taking my Garmin-Slipstream discovery to Floyd Landis I opted instead to help indirectly by making a sizeable donation to the Floyd Fairness Fund.


As Landis explained back in 2007, the Floyd Fairness Fund was "a fund set up first of all primarily to cover the legal fees in my case and hopefully in future to help other athletes who have to deal with this also." This raises the interesting question as to whether Landis will make Floyd Fairness Fund funds available to the numerous riders he has named in his confession. This would save them the indignity of having to sell their own bib shorts.

I didn't have long to ponder this, however, for I was soon distracted from the question of which pro cycling teams are selling stuff and why by video evidence of a pair of NYPD officers hitting a cyclist while driving the wrong way and then leaving the scene without reporting the incident:

Here is the actual video:



While some people outside of New York City might find this shocking, the only thing that surprises me about the actual incident is that the police even bothered to give the victim a tissue. Of course, the only reason the officers are actually being charged for this is because the incident was caught on video, and the unfortunate truth is that the only way we can expect the people whose salaries we pay to be accountable for their actions is to surrender any semblance of privacy--or at least keep video cameras strapped to our heads at all times. Failing that, it's helpful to keep in mind that, like any large company, in practice the police department exists not to serve its ostensible purpose but rather to sustain itself and protect its own interests. (Until you get to the federal level, of course, where law enforcement agents spend your money on important work, like investigating celebrity athletes.) To put it in "Zenlike Vroonenese," while Apple may be able to get away with selling you an overpriced phone that is susceptible to a "death grip," the police can get away with putting you in a death grip. The crucial difference is that Steve Jobs can't actually force you to buy the phone.

This is not to say we don't need law enforcement--we most certainly do, especially given the apparent increase in "ride-by gropings." A few weeks ago a groper was on the loose in Santa Monica, and now a reader informs me that another has struck repeatedly in the Portland area. Moreover, he seems to have a "thing" for women pushing strollers:

In Portland, this sort of thing is considered a serious crime, but in New York City it's just a Craigslist "missed connection."

Speaking of crime and surveillance cameras, a reader in Philadelphia has sent me this video of a bicycle theft in progress:



Unable to get the bicycle over the street sign, the thief actually enlists a neighbor, who not only helps him but also lends him a ladder, proving that Philadelphia is indeed the city of brotherly love.

Given the intrigue and thrills of urban cycling, it's no surprise that Hollywood is revisiting the fertile subject that produced the movie "Quicksilver" almost a quarter of a century ago (as well as the unfortunate sitcom "Double Rush" about a decade later.) This time, the movie is called "Premium Rush," and a number of readers have informed me it's finally in production and stars the guy from the sitcom "3rd Rock from the Sun:"


Here's the gripping plot:

The story follows a 20-something-year-old bike messenger who somehow gets involved in a chase across New York City. And we’re not just talking about a little chase but big budget William Friedkin-style action sequences. Apparently a dirty cop is “desperate to get his hands” on an envelope the messenger received from Columbia University.

Presumably we'll have to wait for the movie's release to find out what's in the envelope, but my guess is it contains photographs of the dirty cop running down a cyclist.