More bikes, even morer beer.

   

    On occasion, I will find myself perusing previous posts from this here Pulitwerp-winning blog, and I'm afraid to report, dear readers, that a paradigm rather lacking in sophistication becomes manifestly evident: drink barley-pop, ride, ride, ride and drink more ale than is legal in *34 states. With this proto-confession now out in the open, I shall in no way, shape or form deviate from the predestined path that has been paved by my genetic predisposition; there is no good reason to deny oneself the two, or maybe three things that bring exultation to the fore: breaking piano benches at The Bier Station with a boner-stem 1988 Diamondback mt. bike...

Now that the latest series of deluges have been sopped-up by the 95 degree blast furnace here in the Midwest, we can finally get back to riding single-track, which has mostly been out at Wyandotte County Lake, conveniently  nestled in the deep forests overlooking the Missouri River, and due to the prevailing winds, dries out faster than Trump's hair in a 1982 microwave. There is nothing at all technical about these trails, save for a stray, mildly rocky section, but where they lack in difficulty they make up with ultra-fast flow and steepness that can send a rider at 25mph+ through a tunnel of arboreal goodness that leaves one with watering eyes and shaking arms. But, that, as we all know as mt. bikers, is the key ingredient to bliss on two knobby tires: 2 inches from death at any given moment; a veritable metaphysical battle with the elements; a war of attrition that begins and ends with one's ability to overcome terror and trepidation. 

And now, since I am completely sober for at least the next 2 hours, the remaining photos concerning the last 10 days of festivities will have to exist on their own pathetic merit...

And, two new breweries are officially open to the public (taprooms) as of this last weekend here in Kansas City, Torn Label and 2nd Shift, both in the Crossroads Arts District. (though 2nd Shift had to postpone their shindig 'til this coming weekend) 

...took a little family vacation to St. Louis and the City Museum, as well as Alpha Brewery and 4 Hands Brewing, then south to the Johnson Shut-Ins (pictured above) and Elephant Rocks and Taum Sauk Mountain. 

Used my Oddity Cycles Slingtwat profusely on July 4th, shooting spent smoke-bombs at all the kids.

Freedom from dumb.

 

     I have yet to experience any episodes from season two of 'True Detective' - and the reviews have been mostly lackluster - so it behooves me to use a quote from the first season, "Time is a flat circle", which is a nearly direct translation of Nietzsche's concept of the eternal return which, for this format of discussion we shall use the Cliffnotes for Freetards version: the life you have lived, you must live it as if you will repeat it exactly again and again. In other words, can we all look back at our lives at any given point and be satisfied/happy/proud of all the 'decisions/choices' we have made? And, conversely, would we live that life in a manner that is an exact, literal copy of itself? The last 10 days or so of political activity, spurred by the Supreme Court and State Houses of southern states - and the terrorist attack on the historic church in Charleston - have been overwhelming to say the least, as I have been a vehement leftist activist since I was 17 years old. I have never once wavered over the last   two plus decades in my support for human rights and basic economic justice for all Americans, even though it is an intellectual challenge on a good day to have the fortitude to face the anti-analytical bias that so infuses the areas south of the Mason-Dixon line. Insofar as one can ignore the progressive path that this country is paving, it is akin to bashing one's cranium into a brick wall living in Brownbackistan, surrounded by Social-Luddites who seem to make it their raison d'etre to cling to the artifice of false and fabricated histories, as well as unsupported fears that are not unlike ghost stories told to an under-developed 6 year old. Here in the center of our country, time is not a flat circle insomuch as it is a flat piece of parchment that is being folded into oblivion by the power of persuasion coming at it from the saneness and lucidity of the coastal wrecking-balls of reason...

Before I allow me, myself and I to collapse into a solipsistic daymare, let us return to the source of all frivolity and furtiveness that girds our luscious loins with the juices of manna: the BikeyCycle of off-road proportions...

..too bad you didn't get one of the 100 Oddity Cycles SlingTwats. I'm trading mine for a Donald Trump wig.