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Every one of my outings is potentially a suicidal mission!
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His Highness the TibetanMonkey, the Beach Cruiser Philosopher
May 8, 2011, 11:11:28 AM5/8/11
to
And nobody cares. That's because I don't threaten anyone but rather
I'm the victim of terrorist drivers. This conflict --or combat if you
prefer-- occurs when cars purposely ignore me and cut me off --or
block me-- assuming that the law of the jungle will take its course,
ie. I will yield to their bigger size until they stop coming or some
kind soul will remember I'm a human being, not a cyclist.
I'm the victim of terrorist drivers. This conflict --or combat if you
prefer-- occurs when cars purposely ignore me and cut me off --or
block me-- assuming that the law of the jungle will take its course,
ie. I will yield to their bigger size until they stop coming or some
kind soul will remember I'm a human being, not a cyclist.
Such conflict could easily be avoided by making cyclists THE PRIORITY,
such as is the case in the Netherlands. It's sort of reverse
hierarchy, pedestrians and cyclists first, then the drivers. Drivers
are at fault unless proven otherwise when there's an accident with
pedestrians and cyclists. Well, they have bike facilities that
minimize that conflict, but still the right priority is there.
Just last night I took this long ride --on sidewalk, what else?-- and
along the way a car was blocking a driveway. I waited. He moved then
the next car was rolling over to block me too! I just screamed while
the lady driver looked me with this funny look, "Why is this monkey
going so wild?"
Call me suicidal since I tend not to stop, but just remember the
terrorist is behind the wheel and they have power over life and
death.
------------------------------------------------------------------
His Highness the TibetanMonkey, the Beach Cruiser Philosopher
May 8, 2011, 2:28:11 PM5/8/11
to
On May 8, 11:14 am, Philip Plumlee <phil...@4thdownsoftware.com>
wrote:
> On May 8, 7:31 am, "His Highness the TibetanMonkey, the Beach Cruiser> Sucks to be you, but at least you are not this guy:
>
> http://www.erowid.org/experiences/exp.php?ID=84954
>
> To describe the experience [on LSD, folks] of putting my life in the
> hands of the San Fransisco Traffic God's while the sky melds together
> in an amalgous orgasm of blue and magenta and while cars leave such
> profoundly solid tracers behind them that I can't tell whether they're
> limousines or not is, essentially, impossible.
>
> [I have biked in urban traffic many times, and EACH time I thought to
> myself, "Well, this DOES hug a nut. But at LEAST I'm not on ACID!"]
>
> The experience is just fucking ludicrous. I've been bombing hills at
> 35 miles an hour before only to have taxi cars open their doors in
> front of me with only ten feet to brake. I've been within inches of
> been piledrived by several ton cars in direct oncoming traffic. On one
> occasion, the quick release on my primary brakes snapped while I
> hauled ass down one of the steepest streets in the city (which is
> really saying something, if you've ever been to San Fransisco before),
> forcing me to simultaneously wedge my foot between my front wheel and
> my front forks to slow myself down while navigating my bike through
> two massive four way intersections. I was a half second away from
> getting anally raped between a bright silver Hummer and a half lime-
> green/half hot-pink sedan. I suspect that this was not the actual
> colour of the vehicle.
>
> [This guy is under-challenged, huh?]
>
> To do what I do, I have to be paying attention 100% of the time. My
> peripheral vision and reflexes are my best friends. Acid is not a drug
> that lends itself to fast reflexes, however; it feels like I have ADHD
> on higher doses of psychedelics. 'Oh boy, look at that beautiful tree!
> Gee, don't you just love nature? Holy fuck, the sky! Goddamn, that
> cloud just turned into two ninjas fighting each other! I love you sky,
> you're so blue and beautiful.' On my early days of trip-cycling, I
> would occasionally find myself zoning out for short periods of time,
> too interested in the patterns on the asphalt below me or the height
> of the skyscrapers above me to remember that I was in a life or death
> situation. These sorts of distractions usually ended like this:
> 'Jesus, look at the floral designs on the pavement, doesn't that just
> look HOOOOOONK SQUEEEEEEAL FUCK FUCK SHIT FUCK A CAR!!' I haven't had
> one of those moments in over two years. To be honest, it only happened
> once or twice. But one or two times of trusting some fuck you've never
> met before to be paying attention to the road and not his Blackberry
> or the radio is one or two times two many.
>
> I've since gotten used to getting my shit together on acid. To be
> honest, though, it's pretty effectively kept me from ever being able
> to relax on psychedelics, even if I'm not on my bike. When trip-
> cycling, I have to devote every ounce of my mental capacity to keep my
> mind on the road and my reflexes. It's a combination of letting my
> mind trust myself so completely that I don't have to think about
> hitting that brake fast enough to avoid that taxi door or turning my
> wheel just enough that I neither plow into that pedestrian OR get
> clotheslined by that pole, and forcing my mind to be on the edge
> constantly.
>
> I instantly go into this survival mode when taking psychedelics now,
> and I can't seem to rewire my brain to just let myself go and relax,
> even if I'm just sitting on my couch at home tripping. Cause when I'm
> trip-cycling, I can't mess up or I die. No slipups, no fuckups, no
> mistakes. I get one chance to make that turn perfectly, and I'm dead
> if I don't. Making decisions like these for six or eight hours
> straight on a daily basis leaves me so fucking burned out that it's a
> wonder I manage to wake up in the morning. I put everything I've got,
> every last fucking percent into every single moment for more than half
> my waking day, and I'm supposed to just wake up in the morning and do
> it all over again for months on end? It baffles me that I do it, but I
> do, and my body has been forced to adjust.
>
> I've never gotten seriously injured biking before, which is a goddamn
> miracle. I've crashed a few times before, and I'd hazard a guess that
> the number of times in was my fault and the number of times it was
> somebody else's is about equal. No broken bones, no fractured spines,
> no cracked skulls, nothing. A goddamn miracle. If you ask me, some
> scrapes and bruises and a snapped spoke or two isn't much to pay for a
> life like mine. Someday, my miracle is gonna run out though.
>
> I figure that I've got two choices in life right now: I fuck up and
> die with my head in two and my brains splattered across the street (or
> at least get so injured that I scare myself away from ever cycling
> again, which is definitively possible considering how mentally
> scarring getting in a serious life-threatening accident on acid could
> be) or I somehow manage to survive being a trip-cycling messenger for
> long enough that I get older and wiser and figure out that what I'm
> doing is fucking stupid and I retire. Then, I have to live with the
> ramifications of dosing large amounts of psychedelics up to five times
> a week for multiples years on end. I'll be just like one of those
> burned out hippies on Haight and Ashbury that can't finish a sentence,
> mumbling to themselves about UFO's and how cheap weed used to be. Oh
> well; fuck it. It's fun while it lasts, and in a life like mine, some
> people live and others eat shit and die.
>
> [You will notice that at NO time does this guy, while reflecting on
> his possible life outcomes, say, "OR I MIGHT STOP DROPPING ACID!"...]
wrote:
> On May 8, 7:31 am, "His Highness the TibetanMonkey, the Beach Cruiser> Sucks to be you, but at least you are not this guy:
>
> http://www.erowid.org/experiences/exp.php?ID=84954
>
> To describe the experience [on LSD, folks] of putting my life in the
> hands of the San Fransisco Traffic God's while the sky melds together
> in an amalgous orgasm of blue and magenta and while cars leave such
> profoundly solid tracers behind them that I can't tell whether they're
> limousines or not is, essentially, impossible.
>
> [I have biked in urban traffic many times, and EACH time I thought to
> myself, "Well, this DOES hug a nut. But at LEAST I'm not on ACID!"]
>
> The experience is just fucking ludicrous. I've been bombing hills at
> 35 miles an hour before only to have taxi cars open their doors in
> front of me with only ten feet to brake. I've been within inches of
> been piledrived by several ton cars in direct oncoming traffic. On one
> occasion, the quick release on my primary brakes snapped while I
> hauled ass down one of the steepest streets in the city (which is
> really saying something, if you've ever been to San Fransisco before),
> forcing me to simultaneously wedge my foot between my front wheel and
> my front forks to slow myself down while navigating my bike through
> two massive four way intersections. I was a half second away from
> getting anally raped between a bright silver Hummer and a half lime-
> green/half hot-pink sedan. I suspect that this was not the actual
> colour of the vehicle.
>
> [This guy is under-challenged, huh?]
>
> To do what I do, I have to be paying attention 100% of the time. My
> peripheral vision and reflexes are my best friends. Acid is not a drug
> that lends itself to fast reflexes, however; it feels like I have ADHD
> on higher doses of psychedelics. 'Oh boy, look at that beautiful tree!
> Gee, don't you just love nature? Holy fuck, the sky! Goddamn, that
> cloud just turned into two ninjas fighting each other! I love you sky,
> you're so blue and beautiful.' On my early days of trip-cycling, I
> would occasionally find myself zoning out for short periods of time,
> too interested in the patterns on the asphalt below me or the height
> of the skyscrapers above me to remember that I was in a life or death
> situation. These sorts of distractions usually ended like this:
> 'Jesus, look at the floral designs on the pavement, doesn't that just
> look HOOOOOONK SQUEEEEEEAL FUCK FUCK SHIT FUCK A CAR!!' I haven't had
> one of those moments in over two years. To be honest, it only happened
> once or twice. But one or two times of trusting some fuck you've never
> met before to be paying attention to the road and not his Blackberry
> or the radio is one or two times two many.
>
> I've since gotten used to getting my shit together on acid. To be
> honest, though, it's pretty effectively kept me from ever being able
> to relax on psychedelics, even if I'm not on my bike. When trip-
> cycling, I have to devote every ounce of my mental capacity to keep my
> mind on the road and my reflexes. It's a combination of letting my
> mind trust myself so completely that I don't have to think about
> hitting that brake fast enough to avoid that taxi door or turning my
> wheel just enough that I neither plow into that pedestrian OR get
> clotheslined by that pole, and forcing my mind to be on the edge
> constantly.
>
> I instantly go into this survival mode when taking psychedelics now,
> and I can't seem to rewire my brain to just let myself go and relax,
> even if I'm just sitting on my couch at home tripping. Cause when I'm
> trip-cycling, I can't mess up or I die. No slipups, no fuckups, no
> mistakes. I get one chance to make that turn perfectly, and I'm dead
> if I don't. Making decisions like these for six or eight hours
> straight on a daily basis leaves me so fucking burned out that it's a
> wonder I manage to wake up in the morning. I put everything I've got,
> every last fucking percent into every single moment for more than half
> my waking day, and I'm supposed to just wake up in the morning and do
> it all over again for months on end? It baffles me that I do it, but I
> do, and my body has been forced to adjust.
>
> I've never gotten seriously injured biking before, which is a goddamn
> miracle. I've crashed a few times before, and I'd hazard a guess that
> the number of times in was my fault and the number of times it was
> somebody else's is about equal. No broken bones, no fractured spines,
> no cracked skulls, nothing. A goddamn miracle. If you ask me, some
> scrapes and bruises and a snapped spoke or two isn't much to pay for a
> life like mine. Someday, my miracle is gonna run out though.
>
> I figure that I've got two choices in life right now: I fuck up and
> die with my head in two and my brains splattered across the street (or
> at least get so injured that I scare myself away from ever cycling
> again, which is definitively possible considering how mentally
> scarring getting in a serious life-threatening accident on acid could
> be) or I somehow manage to survive being a trip-cycling messenger for
> long enough that I get older and wiser and figure out that what I'm
> doing is fucking stupid and I retire. Then, I have to live with the
> ramifications of dosing large amounts of psychedelics up to five times
> a week for multiples years on end. I'll be just like one of those
> burned out hippies on Haight and Ashbury that can't finish a sentence,
> mumbling to themselves about UFO's and how cheap weed used to be. Oh
> well; fuck it. It's fun while it lasts, and in a life like mine, some
> people live and others eat shit and die.
>
> [You will notice that at NO time does this guy, while reflecting on
> his possible life outcomes, say, "OR I MIGHT STOP DROPPING ACID!"...]
Possibly you get high from inhaling carbon monoxide and you believe
yourself to be immortal.
One guy was saying the other day to stay away from riding on busy
streets because of all the pollution... That's the least of my
worries. ;)
That's why I fart for peace...
moronsbegone
May 12, 2011, 10:19:44 AM5/12/11
to
"His Highness the TibetanMonkey, the Beach Cruiser
Philosopher" <comandan...@yahoo.com> wrote innews:8763866a-f724-43f2...@v10g2000yqn.googlegr
oups.com:
Sell the bike, Buy the HUMMER, then start running all these
morons off the road, it's much more fun that way, [trust me].
--
May You reep the poverrty You have Voted for.
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