cycleology

Cycling epitomizes common sense and electrified cycling merely accelerates my point. In a country evolving towards inoperable madness cycling is a road to sanity paved in common sense. Our occupational and automobilist lifestyles have engulfed us having driven everything we require for life beyond all tipping points.

We can capitulate to these facts reacting with practical common-sense measures such as electrified cycling or continue on the stress-paved roads of life this stifling consumerism. It’s a simple solution once free of that automobilist’s mindset.

During my six decades on dirt, I’ve detected the calculated dumbing down of a nation and the annihilation of this planetoid. The consequences stand unmistakable to all. Patriotic idiocy thoroughly embellished through persnickety incognizance.

If all motorcars ceased to function hereafter bicycles would be everyone’s foremost choice precisely as materialized during the initial pandemic as the incalculable common-sense, life confirming blessings of cycling came racing back to life.

When cycling I never grieve traffic, gas prices, insurance, and registration expenditures, not to mention whenever cycling I feel so fucking good. Unattainable this feeling is in a fucking car. I imply the more fun in life the more life in life. Cycling is a fun, practical, frugal, invigorating, life-proclaiming mode of riding through life’s time.

Cycling’s lucid spectra stand infinite with eternal pathways of discovery down every unexplored route. The regenerative credentials of cycling supply the cognitive dynamism and supplemental lucidity fundamental to persisting on this dying planet we cultivated.

What’s it to be? To be or not to be? The path to a cycle of sane living? Or a polluted life of delusionary self-inflicted plant-killing persnickety incognizance?

A bicycle; possibly gathering dust; or one of these sleek electric cycles will chainge your life and perhaps preserve our life-giving, spirit-nourishing planet from exterminating us as she makes the necessary self-preservatory modifications in compensation of our slovenly delusional ignorance.

I proffer this. The foremost time-traveling apparatus on this planet I’m cognizant of fits between one’s legs. Ride your bicycle day-to-day. Your repressed environmentalist conscience will ease in every passing league of disentangled introspections.