I'm not racist against cyclists. Some of my best friends ride bicycles. Maybe not 'best' friends, but I do know people who like to don the Lycra and take to the roads. And I respect their right to do something different to us motorists. I even know that some motorists identify as cyclists and, well, it's the 21st century, so live and let live I say.
It would be wrong to mock them for how they dress, just because it's different to the rest of us. I would be indignant if a public figure, like the Prime Minister or the Queen or someone, said something offensive in a Tweet, such as 'Cyclists wear silly shorts that look like they've sat in a warm bath until they've shrunk' or 'Cyclists look like they've accidentally sat in tar' or 'Cyclists ride up the high street while their shorts ride up their arses'. That sort of prejudice is just not on.
When I was younger, we knew a bloke who suddenly got into cycling, bought all the gear, looked like he'd gone top of the range, helmet from NASA to reduce the effects of G-Force, glasses from one of Michael Jackson's backing dancers. And we mocked him for shaving his legs between the top of his socks and the bottom of his shorts. He explained that it bought him an extra 3 seconds every minute when he was racing, as hairs on legs increase wind resistance. He didn't race. But he identified as a cyclist and we should have accepted his lifestyle choice and not have indulged in confirmation bias by saying to each other what an 'utter fucking bell-end' he was.
Some people argue that everyone is naturally racist towards cyclists, because they haven't integrated with us motorists, even though some of them drive a car as well. They try to argue that we all naturally experience a negative emotion as soon as we see the garish colours of a Tour-de-France-wannabe on the road ahead of us, even though we have been conditioned to safely give cyclists space as we over take, that deep down we want to nudge the back tyre with our bumper and make them wobble and go flailing headlong into a ditch or a lamp-post.
As a motorist, I feel embarrassed for the historic evils of my ancestors, who colonised the roads with better technology than bicycles and forced cyclists into the role of second class road-citizens. I feel deep shame for the past and as a result I like to campaign for the rights of cyclists by trolling people on Twitter who say anything negative against them as a minority group, because I am assuming in my ignorant, over-earnest, desperate bid to be empathetic, that they will feel victimised by all forms of criticism.
I also feel deeply ashamed that as a motorist, I am consciously and deliberately killing the children and grandchildren of cyclists by polluting the planet. Cyclists are better people than us, they live by a strict code of ethics that ensures that all of their actions protect the environment. All the carbon emissions created by the manufacturing and disposal of their non-recyclable helmets, glasses, Lycra swimsuit... er, costumes, er… outfits (damn my unconscious racism), bicycle seats, handle bar grips, tyres, brake pads, reflectors, light casings, water bottles and specialist cycle shoes are nothing compared to the death machine I drive and refer to euphemistically as a Nissan Qashqai.
I have motorist friends who share my concern for the plight of cyclists and indulge in a bit of cultural appropriation by wearing Lycra cycling shorts as underwear whilst driving.
And because cyclists are better people than us, we should make additional allowances for them. They cannot achieve equality with motorists until they enjoy privileges that motorists do not enjoy. And yet motorists ignore the institutionalised privilege of their positions and play the victim, undermining the movement for equality by insisting that they too should be able to block the road by driving two-abreast in order to talk to a friend in another car. Or weave in and out of other vehicles, undertaking and overtaking at such a speed that no one knows which way to look. Or driving through red lights. Or mounting the pavement and, without warning, re-joining the road and generally expecting everyone else to be a fucking mind-reader.
I think it's time to start a movement called 'Cyclists Pride', with annual parades in every city, compulsory teaching in faith schools (with religious beliefs that demonise cyclists) and a symbol to represent it, something already commonplace that can make people think of cyclists every time they see one. Perhaps a circle. The 'Cyclist Circle'. Then you wouldn't be able to look at a circle, anywhere you go, without thinking of cyclists and loving them more and accepting them.
So, that's my message for today's blog post. In my next post, I will be campaigning on behalf of people who can't help being sarcastic bastards all the time.
