BMW’s CEO Says Electric Motorcycles Aren’t Ready
By Wayfarer |
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Gel Seat Giving Some More Miles
By Wayfarer |
MISLED leads us to a solution for comfortable riding
LESS PAIN = MORE RIDE TIME
Report by MISLED
Back in September of 2018 I was in a bad collision on my motorcycle resulting in multiple injuries from head to toe including the loss of left leg below the knee and a crushed left hip. Due to the seriousness of these injuries, getting back on my motorcycle a year later took modifications to help with comfort and or ease of use due to my new disabilities. I had to design a push-pull cable kickstand, add an electric shifter and recently added a reverse kit to the motorcycle to navigate my obstacles.
All these mods did not help the one factor I have since getting back on a motorcycle. My tailbone was severely injured resulting in me not being able to sit very long without having discomfort and pain. Due to this my 500-mile days are long gone.
This leads me to C.C. Rider Seats a newly founded brand in 2020.
Click here to read this excellent report on excelling against exceptions only on Bikernet.com
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Do you have similar experiences to share or a query on such situations. Write to us via wayfarer@bikernet.com
Big George’s Big Snake by Gearhead
By Wayfarer |
Big George’s Big Snake
by Gearhead
Big George, with a bad kicker knee wasn’t big, but bought a yardstick sized Boa Constrictor. Glistening and striped Samantha rode in his 1965 Panhead chopper leather saddle bags. Grew too big for his bags, so she ran loose in his pad.
Big George married, petite and perfunctory Judy, who knew Samantha, but the snake didn’t take to the wife and slithered on her vanity knocking all of her perfume bottles and cosmetics on the wooden deck, more than once. Impulsive Judy snapped, “The snake leaves or I do!”
Judy’s gone, and slithering Samantha still rules the roost.
(publication dated 03-June-2024)
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Engine Guard Kit Installation
By Wayfarer |
An eye-opener by By Christy
After installing the forward controls on my motorcycle, my boyfriend suggested an engine guard just in case I accidentally drop my bike.
This highly polished, chrome-plated guard matches stock plating and works great with the FXST Forward Controls.
Engine Guard Kit 49000138 | Harley-Davidson USA
I had a first-hand visual experience of how well this works when my boyfriend’s foot slid on something, and he dropped his bike while stopped in the driveway.
The only damage was a slight scratch on the engine guard.
Click here to read this photographed tech report on Bikernet.com
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Get the details to all the Tech and Garage insider info in our Free Tech Department at
https://www.bikernet.com/pages/Techs_Bike_Builds.aspx
MRF : Congressional Motorcycle Caucus
By Wayfarer |
Congressional Motorcycle Caucus
With the end of May upon us, it’s great to report that the House Congressional Motorcycle Caucus has added six (6) new members since Bikers Inside the Beltway! These additions bring the House caucus up to 36 lawmakers from both political parties.
The House and Senate Motorcycle Caucuses host educational seminars and press events that shine a light on the issues facing the motorcycling community. The bipartisan membership of these caucuses allows us to know who our champions on Capitol Hill are and which legislators are committed to standing with us on critical issues.
Congress is out of session this week, but once they return, we hope to see more members added to both the House and Senate organizations. This is firsthand proof that coming to D.C. and advocating for your interests can help move the needle in D.C.
The Motorcycle Riders Foundation welcomes the new members and thanks the longstanding members of this important group!
New Members:
Rep. Mark Amodei (NV)
Rep. Tim Burchett (TN)
Rep. Eric Burlison (MO)
Rep. Barry Loudermilk (GA)
Rep. Ralph Norman (SC)
Rep. Jeff Van Drew (NJ)
Current Members:
Rep. Don Bacon (NE)
Rep. Troy Balderson (OH) Co Chair
Rep. Jim Banks (IN)
Rep. Mike Bost (IL)
Rep. Angie Craig (MN)
Rep. Rick Crawford (AR)
Rep. John Curtis (UT)
Rep. Warren Davidson (OH)
Rep. Tom Emmer (MN)
Rep. Paul Gosar (AZ)
Rep. Glenn Grothman (WI)
Rep. Andy Harris (MD)
Rep. Dusty Johnson (SD)
Rep. Anne Kuster (NH)
Rep. Doug Lamborn (CO)
Rep. Tracy Mann (KS)
Rep. Mariannette Miller-Meeks (IA)
Rep. Donald Norcross (NJ) Co Chair
Rep. Scott Perry (PA)
Rep. Bill Posey (FL)
Rep. Adam Smith (WA)
Rep. Pete Stauber (MN)
Rep. Bryan Steil (WI)
Rep. Chris Stewart (UT)
Rep. Glenn “GT” Thompson (PA)
Rep. Dina Titus (NV)
Rep. Derrick Van Orden (WI) Vice Chair
Rep. Tim Walberg (MI) Co Chair
Rep. Michael Waltz (FL)
Rep. Joe Wilson (SC)
Join The MRF
Visit http://mrf.org/ or call (202) 546-0983
The Outreach Bikernet Weekly News for May 30, 2024
By Wayfarer |
Hey,
In the news this week, it seems of all the plagues upon publishing business, Veloce publishers were endowed with having to stop shipping outside UK. Wow.
Black Hills Motorcycle Show Winner speaks out on…..,yup, winning! Sam Burns got hold of more women and sidecar pics to showcase. RFR announces the Texas Weather and a coffee shop owner who moonlights as a mayor or vice-versa. Definitely, vice drinking coffee on the job.
Greasy Kulture are getting rid of more greasy rags and collectibles–grab ’em, you might notice the famed book “Terry the Tramp” by infamous Keith ‘Bandit’ Ball in their “signed books” list as “sold out”. Next time, remember to visit https://5-ballgarage.com and while buying mention you want it signed by the boss of things over there. Meanwhile Amazon sells everything including that book: https://www.amazon.com/dp/0760347158/
It seems tyres are dying faster due to electric vehicles. We investigate this gruesome roadkill.
Mission King of the Baggers is racing in California but it is banned there so just buy your tickets to see the racers run a mile wearing leather in the spring sun. Wild! Okay, maybe I exaggerated the foretelling of fortunes. Mission yet to be accomplished regarding right to be King of your own vehicle choices. California even passed a bill to install factory fitted speed alarms inside new cars. Your car will yell at you for speeding. Such progress; one small scream for man, one giant madness from machines.
Jay Leno hasn’t made enough money but keeps buying more vehicles. Maybe he needs financing for fuel and maintenance. So now he is selling tickets for you to see his collection and maybe click a photo with him if you have the deep pocket and stoic stomach for his mug. I always loved Conan O’Brien (Team Coco).
The Sturgis Motorcycle Museum is gonna become a monument to envy as Keith overhauls the whole operations and infrastructure and brings in his nitro never-ending energy he is known for. Take a peek at the Museum magazine cover and the Hall of Fame ring.
If all that was not news…Mama Tried is gonna come to Sturgis for the Rally this year. Don’t think twice, its a rallying time alright. Louisiana Governor makes news in Wisconsin. Hahahaha. Tricky one there. Read the news to know more. Buell Motorcycles decided they need to sell their motorcycles outside USA to grow and get more business. Eureka moment! You never know….there are more Ural fans outside Russia, so maybe Buell fans exist in some other side of the planet. After all, who doesn’t have $25,000 lying around for a Buell instead of a tried-and-tested, aesthetically pleasing Harley-Davidson or a Indian or a BMW or a Ducati?
Talking of Museums, there is news from Harley-Davidson Museum about their upcoming programs and events. What better way to spend Father’s Day than by ogling big V-Twin engines? Born Free event also coming up in June. USA tops list of nations that enable tourism and travel as per World Economic Forum. With 50 glorious States, there is a wide choice for you to go get a look at it. How about on a motorcycle? Well, Lifestyle Cycles will sell you one from their best deal this week, an Iron 883 under $9,000.
Somebody at Heavy Duty magazine digs Street Bob. No not your uncle, but the motorcycle model popular with quite a few apparently. On the other hand, Choppers magazine is out with a lot more choppers and more chopper parties. Take your pick and come back to Bikernet to know more about them all.
CLICK HERE TO READ THE WHOLE NEWS AND NOTHING BUT THE NEWS only on Bikernet.com
—Wayfarer
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Book Review: EXILE ON FRONT STREET
By J. J. Solari |
The first sentence of Chapter 13 of this 16-chapter book is…..
“Solitary confinement is the worst thing one man can do to another.”
Now, since this is a “book review” and since I don’t know this guy, but I do know who he is, mostly from the “news,” once I got to the above-mentioned sentence in the course of my already having read the first 12 chapters of the book – which I was reading not to give a “report” on it but to get some familiarity with the fellow, from, ya know, his own self, rather than from the news…….where was I. Oh yeah: so I’m reading this here book, and most of it has been read and stuff, I’m almost done, and I’m goin’ along fine, and then I get to this sentence, the opening sentence of chapter 13.
“Solitary confinement is the worst thing one man can do to another.”
Now, For 12 chapters I’ve been reading about life as a Hells Angel. Which apparently isn’t a hobby. It’s a fucking job description. And I’m reading about it from one of only three Hells Angels anyone has ever heard of. Which alone should tell you that whatever a Hells Angel IS, if you’re one of the three everyone has actually HEARD about……you’re probably not just fucking bone-headed resilient like most of them are….. rather your bone-headed resilience likely grows back harder and more resilient every time some of it wears off or gets sawed off. So what i’m saying is, Christie’s pro’bly pretty resilient. He’s likely a pro’bly bounce-back kind of dude.
In other words, Christie or not, life as a Hells Angel, famous or not, no matter what degree of notoriety or lack of incognitoness you might have achieved …….well it’s not the life for me. Let’s put it that way. And I’m reading about this life from someone who not only lived the life but helped shape its direction. So, in other words, for 12 chapters I have been hearing about someone directing traffic in a 24 hour a day job, the LEAST dangerous aspect of it being riding a very large Harley in constant need of repairs that you’re going to do yourself…..at 70 miles an hour. Probably inebriated. To put it mildly: as your go-to mode of transportation. For years at a time. And somehow manage to not die….. just from that.
In other words, by the time I got to Chapter 13 I was now ass-deep inside the head of George Christie. Pro’bly not the best way to put that. Let me try that again. I was being escorted, personally, in his own words, very SENSIBLE words, I have to say, down the life-road of an enthusiastic outsider who from childhood knew he wanted to be not just an outsider but the most universally shunned outsider possible: a Harley-riding, Ensignia-Affiliation on his filthy clothes wearing, brawl first, ask questions later fraternal order of self-admitted lunatics and fuck you, but not your mom, I’ll do that personally……biker.
That’s the ilk the guy who’s story I’m listening to is running around with and in fact earning a reputation for keeping the peace among: keeping the peace among hyper-volatile, anti upwardly-mobile, indifferent to consequences, legality-mocking, enthusiastically confrontational daredevils on all levels of dares, be they man beast or terrain…..….all of which daredevils have severe anger issues ignited by very short fuses. And this is the guy keeping them in line. THAT’S who I’m reading from his own words when I get to the first sentence of chapter 13.
I’m inside this guy’s head, he’s taking me down the road of his life of relentless danger, stress, explosive personalities, he’s trodding through morasses of massive problems, to understate things, not a big deal, all part of the job, “I gut this” sort of thing, trying to keep peace and order through landscapes and wildernesses of paranoia and treachery and eternal threat from“the authorities”……..and then out of the blue comes THIS sentence:
“Solitary confinement is the worst thing one man can do to another.”
The WORST thing one man can do to another……comes at the hands of……not from the most shunned, most-considered-to-be-animals on the planet, namely bikers…….BUT FROM THE PEOPLE CLAIMING TO BE HOLDING THE MORAL AND SANCTIMONIOUS HIGH GROUND!!! GOVERNMENT PERSONNEL!!!
And this ain’t him talking. This is me editorializing. Because he – the writer – ain’t making this claim. I’M telling you this. What HE’S telling you is something different. What HE’S telling you, in very compelling simple language, is what solitary, or what the concept-warping government vocabulary kiddie language calls “Segregated Housing Unit”…. confinement does to a person. This is where that first sentence is going. What solitary does to you. And to him included.
Trust me, by the time you get to this above-referenced sentence you have long ago become totally convinced you are in the company of a fucking truth teller. And get this…..what then FOLLOWS this sentence is a humble, self-confessing litany, very soul-bearing confession of what solitary does to a person and certainly did to him. And this is an actual tough guy.
He says solitary has one function: to break you. And he says it does. It broke him. He then describes the particulars of the eventual, relentless erosion of your entire physical, mental and spiritual superstructure you may or may not have thought of as well-constructed.
So, I’ll tell you this, if he hasn’t won you over with his sincerity and honesty before you got to this chapter, this is the chapter that will cement the issue for you.
Now, his REPUTATION is of an adroit, capable analyzer of the best way to negotiate safely the biker world and the “citizenry” world with the least if not the complete absence of turmoil to both sides. This is not a vice, having this ability. This is a fucking whopping virtue. This is not a quality, if you are wise and sane, you want to squash. You want to SURROUND yourself with such people.
If you’re afraid of competence, then you’re not a leader. You’re a fool. And PROBABLY bureaucrat material. APPARENTLY – and this is me editorializing again – this is not a universally-held attitude. Apparently, a lot of people fear competence and a gift for making things better. Hence his legion of enemies, all of them stupid and the WORST ones being the ones insisting all they want is for you to be safe: The Authorities. And their way of keeping you safe is to lock you down. School shooter? Lock the kids down so they can be systematically killed and thus made safe while the authorities stand around outside doing nothing.
Flu From Nowhere? Lock everyone down so they can be kept safe from earning a living or visiting their aged relatives who are being locked down so they can stay safe from comfort and love. Your planet too dangerously hot due to you existing on it? Lock you down from escaping to a cooler clime or a cooler room by making travel a threat to the weather and making air conditioning a threat those who don’t have air conditioning by allowing you to live while they are dying: all should die in the interests of fairness.
Trespass? Lock you down. Steal a car? Lock you down. Get in a fight? Lock you down. Say a forbidden word? Lock you down. Have a dislike of a category of human? Lock you down. Own something you’re not supposed to own? Lock you down. Wearing forbidden words and cartoons on the back of your clothes? Lock you down. Kill someone? Lock you down.
Show enough sense of fair play that you start getting better press than The Authorities?…..welcome to the world of indictments, the easiest thing on earth to obtain next to getting laid in Parumph. Welcome to a “segregated housing unit.” Welcome to being kept safe enough to kill you as you scream to death with no one around.
And keep in mind when you are being relentlessly tortured by the authorities….you don’t know them and they don’t know you. This torture ain’t even personal. It’s being done by strangers….to strangers. It’s sociopathic behavior taken to almost supernatural levels. Like as though other fucking dimensions are involved. OK. I’m done.
When YOU’RE done, and you WILL read this all the way through because you won’t even know you’re reading, you’ll think George Christie came over the house and sat down in your living room and just started chatting with you – when you’re done, you won’t care what the scuttlebutt is about this fellow, which scuttlebutt SEEMED TO ME to get worse after he threatened to take the holy and sanctified member of the angelic Kennedy Family, Maria Shriver, former wife of the guy who recently during the Bad Cold Lockdown told Americans who wouldn’t wear a mask in an accent he hasn’t been able to undo in 50 years of living here to “Fhuack yu phreedum!!”..…..to court.
When you’re done reading it you will be on his side. And if he DOES show up for a chat? Invite him inside. And you won’t have to hide the silverware either. I’m CONVINCED of that.
–J.J. Solari
We reached out to George about his new book. “Look for my new book Crossing The Rubicon. It spans my 46-year relationship with Ralph “Sonny“ Barger. It will also, between chapters, be filled with short stories from my time with the Hells Angels, Satan’s Slaves and Question Marks,” George Christie.
EXPLAINING WHY ALL JOURNALISTS ARE EARTH’S LOWEST LIFE FORM
By Bandit |
One of the great mysteries of life on Earth is “Why are all journalists living, breathing, scum-scrapings that have been grinded and peeled off the walls of abandoned outhouses at the bottom of a ravine in Bangladesh?” In other words why are all journalists oily slithering entities made entirely out of bacteria?
We all ask that question at one time or another. Sooner or later in life it dawns on us that all journalists are not only not actually human but that whatever species they are, they’re not even good at being that. I mean they have no “outstanding examples” of themselves but rather are, each and every one of them, at the same low level of slithering, burrowing worthlessness.
Journalists have no universally admired outstanding examples of themselves. They are all, every single one, boilerplate, machine-stamped, identical reproductive copies of each other, kind of like the Borg, with only the names on their birth certificates being different, assuming they were actually birthed and not hatched in petri dishes at Dumb-Iab Industries For The De-Backboned Replicated Talentless.
Once it is brought to a non-journalist’s attention – most of whom have actual jobs, as opposed to whatever the fuck it is “writers” do – once it is brought to a normal person’s attention that journalists are all cookie-cutter imbecilic little snots – a light goes on in the normal person’s head and he goes, “Ya know what? You’re right! They ARE all little rat-like shitballs!” This is usually a happy moment for a normal person. He feels suddenly liberated and free from all fear of journalistic harassment and attempts to ruin his life down the road. Because it suddenly becomes clear that journalists are merely blood-sucking fleas and mosquitoes with none of the sterling qualities of either, neither in behavior nor in appearance.
Once a normal person receives this gift of enlightenment, usually from me, that journalists are all oily little parasites feeding off the actual accomplishments of others yet taking all the credit themselves for saving humanity from harm at the hands of this person or that person, it’s like, and I really hate to use this word, it’s like he becomes empowered. A kind of inflow of life and energy and understanding and calm and the tranquility of no longer being confused fills his spirit and a veil of darkness is removed and he looks around at all about him and he quietly rejoiceth.
Yes, It’s a beautiful thing to see this transformation in others and to experience within one’s-self.
Now, you may ask, “So tell me, good pilgrim come to Bikernet, how is it that journalists have come to acquire this hypnotic, chimera-like ability to disguise their true abominable worthless natures within a gauze, a shroud if you will, a kind of shimmering there-not-there hallucinatory magical sleight-of-hand as it were, to where those of us who are NOT journalists hold them high aloft in a special place of reverence and nobility and soft and quiet superiority of holiness and Jedi-like concern for Only Others and not themselves? How is it we have come to be this thoroughly deceived?”
Not a bad question. And very-well phrased. I have to say. I think perhaps we are going to have a productive session here during our short time together before you wander off to look at tits. Pro’bly before I’m done. Not that I’ll blame you. In fact I’ll envy you. I’ll be stuck here alone. With me.
So…..how IS it that journalists have acquired this preposterous status as living lighthouses of warning and illumination lest, we ordinary folk, we run-aground upon the rocks of ruin?
It’s because of the First Amendment. Which boldly proclaims “the freedom of the press.” And not “the freedom of apple growers.” Or “the freedom of saloon-owners.” Or “the freedom of cigarette manufacturers.”
That’s right: the “press” is the only non-government job in the whole Constitution – which is basically a job-creation edict and not a liberty-creating edict – and all the jobs are in “the public sector.” Meaning tax-supported via the private sector. It’s the dividing of America, via proclamation, into two distinct groups: the authorities, who do nothing, and the gainfully employed, who do everything.
Nothing in your house comes from anyone in the public sector. Yet the public sector is the sector everyone in the private sector is convinced is indispensable. Even though they produce and provide nothing. Except punishment.
The relentless idiotic ranting of assholes like Nancy Pelosi that we are divided as a nation in that we are not all Liberal Communist Assholes…..is typical Liberal bullshit: we were divided right out the gate by the Constitution which created the public sector – the sector that does nothing – as being the authority over the private sector – the sector that does everything.
The journalists of the time, once the Constitution, or as I call it, the re-installation of England back onto our shores, once the Constitution had its ignition switch struck to the ON position, all the journalists looked at each other smiling and grinning and said “Have you noticed, Mi Compadres, that we’re the only job that is not a government job that is mentioned in this entire 4500 word composition? It’s almost as though we have become a PART of the government.”
You may have noticed that while there is such a thing as a “Press Pass” which allows journalists almost unlimited access to government shenanigans, there is no such thing as a “Mechanics Pass” or a “Woodworker’s Pass” or a “Plumbers Pass” or a “Tree Surgeons Pass” or a “Chefs Pass” or an “Appliance Makers Pass” or a pass for any other profession not a government job other than “Press.”
You, if you have not already wandered off to look at tits, are probably musing upon this for the first time in your life. Count yourself among the blessed: most people don’t read Bikernet. Holy shit, tell me about it. You on the other hand, tit-lover and seeker of truths even beyond those of tit-truths, come to Bikernet for calming, joy, and enlightenment. And I am your reward. Can we join hands and get an amen?
Have you noticed that all “newsmen” and “reporters” and “journalists” have this air and attitude of superiority? Like as though they know that in your mind you automatically consider them to be the watchdogs of, I don’t know, oppression, government chicanery, business chicanery, evil-doer chicanery, ordinary-citizen chicanery, as though they are prowling, watchful, ever-vigilant lookouts for naughtiness in every corner and back alley of human existence? They’re not. They’re failed novelists, who, having failed at the actual craft of writing genuinely artistic fiction, have, almost subconsciously, slogged and drunkenly staggered over to the thing called “freedom of the press” to write a rather low-grade version of fiction-writing called “the news.”
There they write distorted versions of reality that non-journalists regard as truth, since, being “the press,” they have Constitutional Sanctity, as does the President, and Congress, and all the other created-out-of-thin-air entities itemized and rambled-on about in the Constitution, which was PROBABLY written by failed novelists since something called The Supreme Court has spent a couple hundred years trying to decide what the Constitution ACTUALLY says. One reason this being necessary is because I didn’t write it. Otherwise it wouldn’t need “interpreting.” You don’t need to interpret THIS do you? There ya go.
You’ll notice successful novelists never become journalists. Have you noticed? They don’t need to. They have succeeded at fiction-writing. When you open a novel and set-in to read it you know right out the gate you are going to be bombarded with lies from one end of the book to the other. Fake conversations, fake events, fake people, fake threats, fake solutions, fake locations, fake weather…..there ain’t gonna be a word of fucking truth anywhere to be found and in fact the name o’ the mother fucker who wrote it might be fake! No one cares.
That’s what you pay for. That’s what you want. You want fucking make-believe so you can escape from your own shitty existence and eavesdrop and spy on some fake guy’s shitty but still more interesting existence than your own. What makes fiction writing INTERESTING is called “writing talent.” Something journalists do not have. In fact they are abysmally devoid of this commodity. No successful novelist or short-story fiction writer or successful script-writer ever “moves on and advances to” journalism.
Going from “Successful Fictioneer” to journalism as a living is not an advancement. It’s a huge fucking step down. It’s if anything, sliding from success into failure. You do not need ANY writing talent to become a journalist. You need SOME talent, sure, say, maybe, for instance, a talent for tossing guilt around onto people who are not guilty of anything, or you need to be a talented fucking asshole, for instance.
But you don’t need any WRITING talent. In fact if you HAD any writing talent you could not BECOME a journalist. The job is that restrictive of actual writing talent. It’s as though only the talentless can walk through the permanently implaced talent-restrictor barrier with complete impunity and nonchalance with welcoming signs all around and well wishers sweeping their arms sideways to usher him on his way to frustration, alcoholism and eternal obscurity where he will join all the failed novelists before him as they, en masse devote themselves to deceiving their clueless, gullible audiences who, because of the First Amendment, are convinced journalists are the 8th Choir of Angels sent here from Heaven and from the very prayer room of Jesus to guide America into Paradise.
They are in fact low-grade pimps from the upper circles of Hell with you as their whores, working their way down to Satan’s Lair where, with Satan, they can kick cans down the road for eternity in ever-mounting frustration.
Now earlier I mentioned that when the Constitution had sputtered into existence (which it now is operating at full fucking throttle) it was at that moment all the journalists looked at each other and realized that “the press” was the only non-government job in the Constitution to be mentioned in a litany of government jobs that WERE mentioned in the Constitution. It was then that the journalists, or failed novelists, all looked at each other cunningly and said all at once and all together “We’re part of the government.”
It didn’t matter that they weren’t actually part of the government, they knew that everyone would ASSUME they were because, as you know, the Constitution is a perfect living document of utter and resolute perfection and would not have granted freedom of the press and not freedom of toilet manufacturing as one of the Rights were it not for the obvious to you and to Jesus fact that “the press” was in fact the only assurance that government, should it stray from its divine and noble path, would be nudged back onto its rightful direction. Thanks to the randomly-assembled Constitution – forever being interpreted and reinterpreted in courts of law – in declaring “the press” – the sole actual job-description mentioned in the entire litany of government jobs created out of thin air…… to be subconsciously regarded by all and with great piousness as a department of government.
IN FACT the press itself has actually promoted itself into a category of something called The Fourth Estate. That’s right, like Hollywood giving itself rewards, the press has declared itself “The Fourth Estate,” the first three being, as created by British Hacks a million years ago, the nobility, the clergy, and the commoners. The Press then declared themselves the 4th Estate and apparently no one said shit about it. Pro’bly out of fear of being interviewed by Anderson Cooper, a journalist. In reality the Press is the estate now controlling the other three Estates and as such is more corrupt than the other three combined. And THAT is saying something.
Now you might say “If that’s the case is the press working in partnership with government?” The answer is yes and no: yes if the government stays aware and cognizant of the fact that “the press” actually IS the government. And no if at any time the government forgets this fact and assumes it, and not the press, is the government…..then the press will strike. And strike hard. And strike unified. Unlike how the government operates which is in a fucking dither and in bewilderment and in a cowardly manner all the time. Plus bureaucrats will throw each other to the wolves with absolutely no hesitation.
The Yellow Wall of Unified Journalists will NEVER do that. They know they have the upper hand: they can write sentences – bad ones, but they CAN write sentences….unlike bureaucrats who can’t do anything, and they can’t get voted out of office or fired by any bureaucrat. But as long as the government personnel show homage and respect and gratitude to The Press……The Press will pretend to be merely a watchdog of government and not the operator of government. For after all, the Constitution itself was written by journalists. It was dreamed up by bureaucrats, but actually composed by journalists. Which is why it’s all over the place.
If a successful novelist had written the Constitution it would 1: be a lot more fun to read and 2: would likely have some logic and coherence to it and a lot less of pontificating its own greatness. But it was written by failed novelists. Not successful ones. But failures. So when your idiot “representative” creates a new idiotic law, it’s your Actual Government of Failed Novelists who will praise it and declare it holy and wise, which you will read about and then vote for. Assuming it’s a law that requires the votes of the alleged citizenry. Which 99.999999% of American laws do not require.
But that’s another and different and equally exciting article. From Yours Truly, J.J. Solari, Failed Novelist Times Ten AND Failed Journalist. IN FACT…..I even failed as a Mouseketeer. There’s a reason I write for Bikernet.
LAST POLITICAL SCIENCE LESSON for 2022
By J. J. Solari |
138: SUSTAINABLE (BUREAUCRAT/JOURNALISM DEFINITION) What all things except humans must become. (ACTUAL DEFINITION)……There actually isn’t one. Nothing is actually “sustainable” unless you don’t use it.
Since sustainability is a completely made-up insistence with no relation in any way to reality, there is only the puzzle of what, as Ayn Rand would say, this folly actually accomplishes. Well that would be it accomplishes agrarian reform and industrial extinction, in accordance with Marxist ideology, which is what all government crap devolves to: Marxist ideology.
Or pre Cambrian existence, in other words. Sustainable is an arbitrary redefinition of reality, the implied but not vocalized alternative to NOT sustaining things being….the end of the earth and all life on it if things (to be decreed, and as needed) are not “sustained.”
The idea that things must not be “used up” is a Marxist notion, as are most political notions circa 2022, the purpose being to groom people into not doing things, like the lockdown did, since Marxism is materially and spiritually impotent. It is a de-industrializing training regimen designed to restrict progress since progress is a threat to government and nations. See empowered, journey, diversity, inclusivity.
175: SUSTAINABILITY (cont)…… A word used by everyone for the sake of using it since no one actually knows how you sustain something you are using.
You can REPLACE things. But if you are sustaining it….then you’re not using it. It’s just in existence. Probably put there by Nature.
While sustainability has no meaning it does have a function, naturally political: to imply that the user of the word is bathed in priestlike holiness. Most product-sellers now use this word to suggest that they are holy so you should buy their iffy-level-of-merit product out of appreciation of the seller rather than out of satisfaction with the product.
Bureaucrats also use this word to suggest that they care about the “earth.” Which compared to the degree that they care about you, is likely greater, so they’re actually telling the truth for once. For only the earth matters now. Not you. Atomic energy, while not sustainable is in fact, close to inexhaustible. In America this makes it forbidden since a close-to-actually sustainable power source goes against the “agenda of sustainability” now embraced by bureaucrats and their frightened-of-losing-their-permission-to-exist corporate sycophants. Which would be all businesses not actually family or individually owned. Corporations are government-created entities and have nothing to do with the definition of capitalism.
176: SUSTAINABLE, SUSTAINABILITY (cont) (bureaucrat/journalist definition)……Unknown. (ACTUAL DEFINITION)……Unknown. Sustainable is a word with no actual meaning or definition in a political context, which is the only context it is ever used in. Perhaps it can be used in another context. Beats me. Maybe you can think of one. In the political realm while it has no actual meaning or definition, there is a prescribed response: obedience. If you are using something unsustainable, you should not be using it.
Why? Because you will use it all up. Then it will be gone. And no one will have any. Which is immoral. You are keeping other people from having any. And we all must have everything or nothing. All things must be sustainable otherwise you cannot use it.
Since nothing is actually sustainable, as far as anyone knows, even though no one actually knows, since no one knows what sustainable actually means or is or does or says or bleats or shits or gets off the pot…
Or maybe everything is sustainable if orders and procedures are followed as pronounced by people who can’t actually sustain an intelligence, we just don’t know, and if someone does actually know that person has not yet come forward to tell us what sustainable is or means or does so therefore to be safe lest we run out – your use of whatever we are talking about at the moment is to be curtailed under penalty of license-loss, since your license and your liberty are apparently not sustainable. They can actually disappear.
That much we know.
184: GREENHOUSE GAS (JOURNALIST/BUREAUCRAT DEFINITION) The destructive vapors of oil, coal and methane used in machines and in your lungs.(ACTUAL DEFINITION…….Two words assembled together in such a way as to put it into your head via relentless repetition by infinite human parrots including suddenly-genius first-graders, that earth is a man-made greenhouse, not a 4 billion year old mammoth amalgam of the entire periodic table.
The earth is not a green house. Nor is it a Popsicle. The expression “greenhouse gas” has one function: to put the idea of rising earth temperature into your head and associate it with you using an air conditioner or hair spray because your personal conveniences are killing others less fortunate. That’s right, it’s just more fucking Marxism.
The expression “greenhouse gasses” has been selected solely for the bizarre imagery that the phrase conjures: that the earth is not a successfully-self-operating monster of life-out-of dirt, winding and wending its way through a galaxy of a billion stars and a trillion planets, no, it’s fucking a greenhouse: a big glass building with its already hot, wet, humid essence being further compromised by your car which is turning the earth into more of a place for lizards and spiders and plants that eat animals than it already is, and you are at fault because of your selfish need for “modern conveniences” while others die.
The “greenhouse gas” is proclaimed to be CO2. Even though CO2 is not a “greenhouse gas.” There is actually no such thing as a greehouse gas. There is just CO2. CO2 is not a greenhouse gas. It’s just CO2. It’s never been…a greenhouse gas. It’s a CO2 gas.
The expression “greenhouse gas” has also been selected via some random bureaucratic catastrophe-generator to be compiled into the New Weather Terminology of Death along with the sudden newly-appearing mysterious version of meteorology called “climate science.” Meaning “the science you created and made necessary for us to investigate so that you don’t kill everybody.”
Climate science. Greenhouse effect. Greenhouse gasses. Global warming. Attribution science. Gray swan climate event, Hotter. And hotter. Wetter. Droughtier. It’s a fucking mess. Do you care??? No.
You have electricity. So YOU don’t care. (You’ll notice there is a worldwide sudden electricity problem in all the white countries.) You won’t stop stop using your air conditioner? We’ll shut off the power. You won’t stop driving your gas and diesel vehicles? We’ll outlaw oil.
You’ll use our mandatory electricity vehicles. Which don’t work. We don’t care. We need you dead before you realize you don’t actually need us. Eventually there will be something called “terrain science” that will explain why walking on the ground rather than just lying six feet beneath it is causing warts on the moon. Just like all the other things declared out of nowhere, claimed as fact and always suspiciously designed to handcuff human life, human happiness, human progress and discourage more cool stuff and to keep people glued to one spot.
Ya know, like Covid-19 successfully did.
–jj solari, bureaucrat/journalist dictionary
Estate Planning for Motorcycle Collectors, revised edition
By Bandit |
Note: I’m not pretending that this is the definitive work on winding down your collection or living your life. But if it gets you to at least consider what steps should be taken, and how, the article will have done its job.
As motorcycle fanatics, we’ve all laid awake nights wondering how we could add to our collections. At some point in our lives, doing exactly the opposite probably makes more sense. The reason, of course, is advancing age while hanging onto a deeply misguided belief that our family shares our passions.
Two things often happen after we kick the bucket. First, our supposed bros come over and try to bully your family into selling them your prized possessions cheap. “He promised…”
“Sure pal, we’ve heard it all before,” Should be the Redhead’s response. “Now, hit the road.”
The second would likely come from the kids who put up with your 2-wheeled passion for 40 years. “Get rid of this shit,” said your favorite son or daughter, who’s only passion is video games. Get the picture?
John Stein produced this DVD on the history of motorcycle drag racing after he wrote the book. The book is sold out, but sometimes available on Ebay.
Okay, so where’s your current attitude? You could cherish every piece as a treasure that deserves respect and be must be highly valued. Or you could say, “Fuck it. I’m going to party with my stuff until I’m gone. Then it’s their problem.”
In this article, we are going to take the previous notion and treat everything as a treasure to be respected and valued.
Step 1
Inventory: Create a document inventorying all the motorcycles and parts you own. Include their condition, location, history and estimated value.
If you have units on display in museums, friend’s homes, offices or restaurants, make a list and keep it up to date. Wait, what about that 45 flathead in a shop 2,000 miles away. Write it down and include a photo.
As appropriate in your situation, give copies of the inventory to a trusted family member, attorney, financial planner, etc.
Document Storage: Make sure you have all documents, titles, and insurance papers stored in a secure location. Additional documentation could include photos with captions. A title is cool, but without a photo she might not know what the hell it looks like. It could be the vintage Indian in the bedroom.
Step 2:
Selling your bikes and parts. This info might be helpful to downsize your collection. Or it can help guide the beneficiaries of your collection when you’re gone.
Considering the obscurity of certain motorcycles, as well as the small pool of potential buyers for some of the more expensive ones, it can easily take years. Or you could find a buyer right away. Documentation and history is important, including memorabilia.
In all likelihood, selling off the parts will prove most challenging and time-consuming. You can’t easily donate them to charity or sell them at a Mecum’s-type auction as you can with a complete motorcycle. Your best bet then will be to sell them to another collector, and there’s always EBay as an obvious way to do so. This could be daunting or a fun learning experience. Each part is valuable to the right builder. There are also forums for various motorcycles where only the owners go looking. There are also places like Facebook Marketplace.
It is unlikely Museums will want parts, but art and memorabilia could be valuable.
When you put out feelers, make sure they include overseas markets as well. A friend of mine has an enormous collection of parts for early Yamaha road racers, which he’s found move very slowly in the states but really well in England and Australia. Uncollectible parts in the US can be extremely valuable to Japanese builders.
Keep an eye on the markets. If they are flooded with parts from a collection, suddenly your rare parts are not sought-after. On the other hand you might learn that complete, rebuilt Knucklehead engines are going for $19,000…
Never forget the code of the antique dealer. If you want to sell a used Linkert carb they aren’t worth a dime, maybe $25.00. But if you called the dealer the following week and needing to purchase a used Linkert carb and they’re suddenly rare as hen’s teeth. He might be able to find you one for $625.00.
It’s a game. You can advertise a garage sale on Craig’s list and sell everything to empty out of the precious shop. Now your kids can make a killer game room out of it. Bada bing.
Step 3:
Estate planning: We all need to visit an estate planning attorney and check all the boxes. A will is good, but your heirs will have to go thru probate and pay the piper.
Another tool in estate planning is to set up a revocable living trust. You put your assets into the trust and remain in full control of them as long as you are able. When you die or become unable to handle your affairs, the items in the trust easily get turned over to your designated beneficiaries.
If you decide to do a trust, make sure that you title each motorcycle to your trust so as not to get tangled up in probate.
Separation anxiety? Not really.
Having recently begun the process of paring down my own collection, I’ve discovered a few things. After having sold some motorcycles I’ve owned for decades, I expected to mourn their loss–which hasn’t been the case at all. And I just removed one annual registration, insurance and maintenance fee from the to-do list.
There’s actually something therapeutic about it. Not only
will you have more money in the bank, but fewer things to step over in the garage. And not to belabor the point but there’s the very real satisfaction that comes with removing a tremendous future burden on your family. Plus, what about the fees for storage buildings?
That said, you may want to keep certain motorcycles in your estate even if you’re not around to enjoy them. If you have the good fortune to own a particularly famous motorcycle, you may want to stipulate that it stay in the family. (It would be a purely emotional decision but aren’t we allowed one or two of those?)
All in all, the subject isn’t something we really want to think about but sooner or later, we have to. Such is life.