MAC
01-10-2005, 03:22 AM
Today I watched a bunch of $50K/year, pensioned yuppies walk out of a bar wearing no less that $500/each in leathers climb onto $1/4M in custom Harleys and ride off to their $120K each 2500^2ft brick homes with their former cheerleader, cell phone carrying wives and call themselves bikers.
It is a disgusting thing which I can hardly bear to see anymore.
I know real bikers.
I was raised with real bikers.
I’ve played pool with real bikers.
I’ve drank with real bikers.
These people where NOT real bikers.
These people where the source of America’s weakness and capitalism’s failings.
These people bought an image and they sell it to everyone they see on the highway.
And the people who see them say “Gee, a bunch of bikers. They weren’t so bad.”
It’s more superstition now than fact. These pseudo-rebels living off a real race of human’s stigma. We are a sad and pathetic species to so readily accept an anti-hero instead of seeing the real person. We are a foolish, obtuse population to give them credit just because they rode up on a Harley. One of the last bastions of freedom is gone, replaced by just another caste of a self-segregating society.
The bikers of old where not revered. They were just poor working folk. They had laborious jobs and most kept them only just long enough to maintain their bikes, and then they rode to the 4 corners of this country no matter the weather or road conditions. They were never going to be rich or famous. They worked and raised their kids as best as a poor man can, but they didn’t have to be stuck in a crappy town for their whole lives, serving the local squire. They could seek their meager fortune where ever they chose, in a free society. They smoked too much, drank too much, and did drugs that would kill Tony Montana. They didn’t care what you thought of them and thus, they did as they wished. They didn’t care who among they acted poorly as long as he didn’t do them wrong. They are men and women without fear or prejudice and that is better than 90% of the established communities I’ve seen.
Among the very, very worst people I have seen, lie some of the best people I have known. They do not lie. They do not cheat. They do not ask for medals for the questionable things they were asked to do for their country during war, nor built for their industry during peace. They are mostly under-educated, anti-social, lower income Americans too smart to stay poor but too proud to be a part of corporate America.
It’s sad for me to see a bunch of middle class Americans pretending to be the secretive rovers of our roads. They pretend to be men built on principle and utility but they never venture more than 100 miles from their “homes”. They are free on their brand new bikes, wind in their hair; worried about their mortgages and girlfriends. Afraid of life, itself; these fucking yuppies think that danger is some asshole pulling out in front of them on Broadway. They think dieing in a freeway accident on their bikers is “danger”. That’s “life on the edge” for them
They wouldn’t know life if it blew out their front tire on an off-ramp in Colorado and left them stranded on the side of the road overlooking a mountain range that their ancestors camped under 150 years ago.
No, they’d just get out their fucking cell phones and call the local Harley shop.
It is a disgusting thing which I can hardly bear to see anymore.
I know real bikers.
I was raised with real bikers.
I’ve played pool with real bikers.
I’ve drank with real bikers.
These people where NOT real bikers.
These people where the source of America’s weakness and capitalism’s failings.
These people bought an image and they sell it to everyone they see on the highway.
And the people who see them say “Gee, a bunch of bikers. They weren’t so bad.”
It’s more superstition now than fact. These pseudo-rebels living off a real race of human’s stigma. We are a sad and pathetic species to so readily accept an anti-hero instead of seeing the real person. We are a foolish, obtuse population to give them credit just because they rode up on a Harley. One of the last bastions of freedom is gone, replaced by just another caste of a self-segregating society.
The bikers of old where not revered. They were just poor working folk. They had laborious jobs and most kept them only just long enough to maintain their bikes, and then they rode to the 4 corners of this country no matter the weather or road conditions. They were never going to be rich or famous. They worked and raised their kids as best as a poor man can, but they didn’t have to be stuck in a crappy town for their whole lives, serving the local squire. They could seek their meager fortune where ever they chose, in a free society. They smoked too much, drank too much, and did drugs that would kill Tony Montana. They didn’t care what you thought of them and thus, they did as they wished. They didn’t care who among they acted poorly as long as he didn’t do them wrong. They are men and women without fear or prejudice and that is better than 90% of the established communities I’ve seen.
Among the very, very worst people I have seen, lie some of the best people I have known. They do not lie. They do not cheat. They do not ask for medals for the questionable things they were asked to do for their country during war, nor built for their industry during peace. They are mostly under-educated, anti-social, lower income Americans too smart to stay poor but too proud to be a part of corporate America.
It’s sad for me to see a bunch of middle class Americans pretending to be the secretive rovers of our roads. They pretend to be men built on principle and utility but they never venture more than 100 miles from their “homes”. They are free on their brand new bikes, wind in their hair; worried about their mortgages and girlfriends. Afraid of life, itself; these fucking yuppies think that danger is some asshole pulling out in front of them on Broadway. They think dieing in a freeway accident on their bikers is “danger”. That’s “life on the edge” for them
They wouldn’t know life if it blew out their front tire on an off-ramp in Colorado and left them stranded on the side of the road overlooking a mountain range that their ancestors camped under 150 years ago.
No, they’d just get out their fucking cell phones and call the local Harley shop.