on the ancient Jailun

(This excerpt is said to belong to a lost passage of Herodotus's book, the Histories, regarding the Yaelong tribes that reside in the country known today as Grigovia.)

And then, after the emissaries from the East had finally left, and while our party was preparing to make camp for the night, men dressed in strange garb – brightly mottled animal skins – stole silently from the brush, as if they were spirits. We had chosen the grounds to rest because they neighbored cool, flowing springs, and because they sat in a small valley that our native guide said would shelter us from the heavy, dangerous winds for which the region is known. As soon as these men appeared, our guides' women, who otherwise never spoke, wailed in unison, and, cowering fearfully, begged us not to touch them, lest, the women claimed, we become tainted by their strange and powerful sorcery. After much difficulty in finding a common tongue, we, however, were able to speak with these spirit-like men, who called themselves Jailun; they were interlopers just as we were, and had no plans to kill us for trespassing on sacred ground, as we had initially feared. They told us of their home in a mountainous region with many valleys that lay north of the lands of the Eastern emperor, whom they knew well, as he had tried, they said, repeatedly yet each time unsuccessfully, to subjugate them – first by warfare, then by bribery, and then by arranged marriages. Each time they had denied the emperor his advances, and stayed always free of the yoke of foreign rule – by warring with him, by refusing his gifts, and by putting to death the women he sent. While we were breaking bread with these quiet men who were all armed with long, slender poles-axes and curious weighted throwing ropes, a male child – the son of a lesser guide – was carried off in the talons of a mighty eagle, and never seen again. All who had witnessed the event agreed that it was a bad omen, and a warning not to walk with a loping gait similar to that of the abducted child.

場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit

on ninety-nine victories

Success, friends, success. Huzzah. By liberating the neo-serfs of today's lowest and groveling classes, the 99% has brought to a close a process that began in the late 1840s. Victory's proof: starting on 13 April 2012, in enlightened and far-thinking nations across the globe, all debts shall be wiped away, all crimes shall be forgiven, decent and well-paying jobs shall appear as if magically from thin air, and housing, food, health-care, and clothing shall be provided to anyone in need. Truly, it shall be, “from each according to his ability, to each according to his need” (this being our motto). Marx and Engels would be proud of our stalwart revolutionary zeal and steadfast, unflinching dedication to the task at hand.

Seriously, we have won, and by winning, I mean that, across the board, we have eliminated corruption, money-lust, environmental degradation, and self-enslavement to entertainment and consumer products. My congressman promised it on the news this morning – I swear I heard him say something to that effect. Huzzah. So, let's all go home and have a nice cup of tea, since our overwhelming anger and simmering hostility have compelled the people in power, whom we call the compassionate and honor-bound bourgeoisie, to relinquish their lofty posts and to leave on the first corporate jet for sunnier shores as yet untouched by our righteous fury. History shows that all previous ruling classes have readily relinquished their power when faced with persistent popular protests. We've got this thing sewn up: our gains are assured, the power is back in the hands of people other than millionaire, re-election obsessed politicians, and our rapacious, trickle-up national financial policy is a thing of the past. Besides – those pleasant-looking riot cops keep inching closer this way, my iPad is almost out of juice, and this mocha-frappuccino is not even close to being cold, so, seriously, come on, guys, let's get going. And again, Huzzah.

場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit

on simplicity in cycling

  Increasing numbers of urban bicyclists are abandoning multi-gear propulsion systems in favor of less complex mechanisms with fewer moving parts. In theory, a mechanical system with few moving parts is less prone to failure than a system with many moving parts, as the more complex system contains more elements that could fail (think of the many levers, wires, and gear-wheels on a ten-speed bicycle compared to the single gear-wheel on a child's bike). Among the individuals rediscovering the fixed-gear or single-gear propulsion system are urban bicycle messengers.

  The rugged and far-ranging operator known as the bicycle messenger traverses dozens of miles of urban landscape in varying weather conditions carrying heavy and unwieldy packages on her back. In her effort to maximize her workable hours by reducing repair- and maintenance-related down time, the bike messenger put to use one of the most simple bicycle-specific propulsion systems she could find – the fixed-gear.

  While the simplicity and reliability of the fixed-gear propulsion system has gained wide popularity in recent years, I have re-discovered an even more simple system for propelling myself forward by bicycle – by pushing off with the foot from vertical surfaces or from the ground. While perusing randomly a tome-like dictionary at Central Library, I stumbled across a picture of the early bicycle, upon which the rider moves forward by pushing off from poles, hydrants, curbstones, etc.

  In this picture we can see that the device is missing standing-fins upon which the operator might rest his feet and balance (which would be included on a modern design). There is no mechanical propulsion system, and the wheels roll freely in any direction. On the one hand, this device is merely a large, steerable scooter upon which the operator can sit; the omission of a propulsion system other than the kicking leg may be too much for the velocipedist who faces hills or whose routes lack vertical surfaces. On the other hand, urban environments are filled with vertical surfaces the operator might kick from (electrical poles, parking meters, and street signs, to name a few), and most of Earth's cities are flat and covered with layers of asphalt (which makes for a smoother ride).

  People with whom I have spoken have voiced their disdain for the fixed-gear bicyclist – they claim he has retreated too far into the bicycle's past. They deride him for seeming to have abandoned needlessly the improvements made to Baron von Drais' original design. Perhaps, however, the smog-riding bike messenger he has not retreated far enough.

  Long live the vondrais!

Spes Mea In Ratio Est - 場黑麥 John Paul Roggenkamp