Bike Jousting With Windmills: Opinion, Irony, and the Search for Sincerity

As the summer wears on, so does the war between cyclists and, well, everybody else--at least in the press. And the latest skirmish appears to be taking place on the bike path in downtown Manhattan, where according to the Downtown Express (whatever that is) cyclists are disregarding signs telling them to dismount their bicycles:

Let's be honest--barring the presence of stairs, no cyclist is going to dismount his or her bike in any outdoor space (especially if he or she is wearing road shoes). Yet as a cyclist, it pains me to read this. Not because my fellow cyclists are disregarding the rules, but because every cyclist should know the proper technique for riding your bicycle where you are legally supposed to walk it, and that is to remain on the bicycle with your feet on the pedals but to squat down on the top tube and roll through slowly without pedaling. Like a dog perking its ears up and wagging its tail, this communicates to pedestrians and law inforcement a message of submission, and while you may not technically be walking the bike you're not riding it either, and that's usually good enough for them. On the other hand, riding through with your hands in the drops and your ass in the air is a clear sign of aggression, and is akin to flattening your ears on your head, barring your teeth, and salivating. And running next to the bike and jumping on and off of it like some kind of confused cyclocross racer (as in the excerpt above) will just make you look stupid.

So while cyclists may be in the news for all the wrong reasons lately, it's important to remember what Oscar Wilde once said, which is that "The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about." I'm not sure what that means, but I'm guessing it's somehow relevant. But one thing I do know though is the only thing better than being talked about is being talked about by the Opinionated Cyclist:


A reader made me aware of OC a few months ago and I became a fan almost immediately. In fact, I was so enamored of him that I emailed him repeatedly with interview requests like a desperate suitor. Unfortunately, though, no reply was forthcoming, and I eventually resigned myself to a life without OC. That is, until a reader notified me that I had become the subject of a number of his videos.

It seems OC had been put off by what he saw as disrespectful treatment of him on this blog, particularly my portrayal of him in his green face paint, and he has requested in one of his videos that I not post any pictures of him in a "derogatory manner." He's also added a dialogue bubble to his video for emphasis, as you can see above. (I'm hoping that he does not interpret my posting the very picture of him admonishing me as "derogatory.")

Although that video is interrupted by what appears to be a phone call from his mother, in the second video he goes into some detail about how he felt when I contacted him, and in the third he continues to discuss me while simultaneously and deftly incorporating a plug for airfree tires. Perhaps most intriguing (to me anyway) is the proposal he makes to me in the most recent video, in which he suggests we fill in for each-other when we take vacations, and also alludes to his expertise in the area of the "whores in the Philippines."

I would gladly entertain such a proposition (whores excluded), though I'm reluctant to give him my Blogger username and password as he suggests. I'm also reluctant (though oddly tempted) to don the famous OC green face paint and make Youtube videos, which is another one of his ideas. However, I have emailed him as he requested, and I'm hoping that we can find a way to work around these minor impasses and somehow collaborate. Because while such a collaboration would undoubtedly be quite lucrative as he points out, it's you, the reader, who has the most to gain in the currency of entertainment, and as always I will continue to put you before myself.

The truth is, I have a weakness for quixotic quests, and unlocking the riddle of Opinionated Cyclist is one of them. Another one of them is the complete eradication of all pie plates, except for those on fixed-gears. And yet another new one I've recently undertaken is to discover a completely unironic bicycle.

As you may have noticed, the world is now filled with ironic bikes. It's the rare bicycle that doesn't have at least one slightly ironic element, whether it be a tongue-in-cheek sticker, or a retro component on a carbon frame, or an intentionally juvenile bell or something. Even I myself ride an ironic Orange Julius bike (which as I revealed last week does have fenders--a necessity when riding through goose leavings).

But as any resident of Brooklyn, or San Francisco, or Portland can tell you, being surrounded by irony can get quite tiring after awhile. Sure, it can be entertaining at first, but after awhile it becomes really annoying. It's like how when you first get to England you're amused by the fact that the cars are on the wrong side of the road, but after about three or four days you're sick of "looking left" and wish they would just drive the normal way.

So I've been searching for a competely unironic bike. And by "searching" I mean that I've been looking at bikes people are emailing me, as well as at internet galleries. Of course, as you can imagine, this isn't exactly the best way to find a sincere bicycle. For example:

This bicycle, forwarded to me by a reader, is about as ironic as it gets. Modifying a Bianchi so that the downtube reads "Biach" and then placing it in front of a shrine to the Virgin Mary (at least that's who I think it is--remember, I'm an Ultra-Orthodox Jew apparently) is ironic enough to make even the hairs of the most stalwart fixster's ironic moustache stand on end. No sale.

This bicycle was found and photographed in Goa, India by another reader. While also ironic, I feel as though I'm getting closer here, if only because the irony is not intentional. I'm sure whoever labeled the bike did mean to sincerely imply that the bicycle was formidable. Of course, irony abounds here nonetheless, especially because while the bicycle is in fact deadly that's mostly because it's a serious tetanus risk.

This bicycle, forwarded to me by yet another reader, arrived in my inbox only this morning. While bizarre, clearly it is the work of someone who is almost painfully sincere. As wacky a contraption as it is, the rear rack, fenders, and internally-geared hub scream practicality, and the hammock seat is probably supposed to be perineum-friendly. The guy who built this bike probably wears wool socks with sandals, is somehow affiliated with a university, and likely builds lots of other stuff too--he might even have a breakfast machine like Pee Wee Herman. But still, he probably revels in the bike's ugliness, and that's a form of irony, so I'm not going to allow it.

Finally, I checked in over at Fixedgeargallery, where I found this:

First, Aerospokes were just crappy wheels a few people thought were cool. Then, they were hip. Then, people started spelling it "Arrospok" and they became ironic. Now, like any number of ironic accessories and like the fixed-gear craze itself, they've broken on through to the other side and are, once again, just crappy, except now a lot of people think they're cool instead of just a few. Like this guy, which is why he has two of them.

Likewise, showing off both your bike and your torso in a gym is ridiculous, but it's not ironic. Gyms may be full of iron, but they are irony-free zones, and the people who patronize them are generally irony-free as well. For this to be ironic, he would have to know how ridiculous he looks, and I don't think he does.


I guess maybe the fact that he calls himself "Fatty" but isn't might be ironic, but I'd argue instead that it's vain. He wants you to notice he's not a fatty and that he works out. He may or may not also want you to notice that he bears an eerie resemblance to B-Real from Cypress Hill:

However, for me he evoked something more profound that I could only express in this Nigel "The Torch" from "Top Secret!"/Pete Steele from his Carnivore days/Ogre from "Revenge of the Nerds" triptych:

Somehow it just seems to capture the spirit of island-inspired jewelry and testosterone.

There's certainly irony in this shot of the owner in motion:

And that irony lies in the fact that it evokes that same look of surprise, fear, and kinetic urgency you see in the famous Sasquatch photo:

Of course, this irony was probably not intentional, so it should reflect on neither the owner nor the bike. So, having concluded to my own satisfaction that the owner is not an ironic person, and thus is incapable of having built an ironic bicycle, I'm going to declare this bicycle completely irony-free.

Please do your best to disregard the irony of that declaration.