Hehlmeht Woehrse: Dutch Logic Assassins

Fearing more threats against my life by the Dutch, I have become hyper sensitive to my environment.  A swatch of orange fabric makes me cower in fear, the smell of potatoes induces nervous sweating, and the clomping of wooden-soled shoes on the pavement shatters my concentration like a gunshot.  To protect myself, I have prepared flash cards for study purposes and placed them in various and sundry places about my hovel and place of work so that I may spot the enemy on site and flee:

Being keen and crafty, the Dutch can strike at any time, so I believe that my paranoia is warranted.  Indeed, I recently found proof of what I consider to be a subtle Dutch plot against my life in an article penned by serial proselytizer, David Hembrow, hosted by Momentum Magazine.

Hembrow, by means keen and crafty, data mines injury and fatality statistics to argue that survival rates of Dutch cyclists are not improved by wearing a helmet.  To further stigmatize helmet wearing, Hembrow data mines the rich statistical data documenting British children dying in--wait for it... waaait for it... --car crashes to demonstrate that Dutch cyclists are safer than British children being driven about by concerned parents.  (The accident/fatality rate per kilometers traveled by car for a country's population is a statistic Hembrow doesn't review ...likely because it would obviously undermine his case.)  Hembrow does, however, identify that the low risk of head injury for Dutch cyclists is primarily due to their progressive, and therefore safe, infrastructure.

The insinuation of the article, however, is clear: the Dutch don't wear helmets, so neither must you.  While I appreciate anyone's effort to appease my fears, I'm also risk aversive (amongst a host of other allergies both various and sundry) and wearing a helmet, like wearing a condom, is one of those things known in the common discourse as a 'Good Idea', even if it barely fits or never even gets used during your time spent riding (minds out of the gutter, please).

In Hembrow's universe, helmets aren't for heads and condoms aren't for peepees.

The unasked question arising from the article intrudes nonetheless: So what?

The Dutch don't need helmets because their coddled by infrastructure that will not be implemented in my ward within my lifetime, so Hembrow's pronunciations are at best trivial, and at worst, a life-threatening abuse of logic.  For the time being, I am pleased to declare that the Dutch will not coerce me, by means either statistical or crafty, to expose myself to even the slightest iota of fatal risk, and thereby fulfill their plot against my life.

It was a good try, however.  It was a considerable improvement over the time they sent this guy after me:

Missed me!!

Till we meet again, Hollanders!!  Thpbpbpbpbpbpb!!

Good Ideas: Do Not Share Them

In every life, each and every one must face the time of passing.  For some, it is sudden, even tragically accidental.  For others, it is slow in coming.  Some face it with great fear; others with great acceptance.  The latter often have achieved a sense of closure and accomplishment.  They understand that it is time.

I refer of course to passing stool.  That is, taking a poop.

Some, at the time of passing, need to pass the time.  I, however, eat a lot of fibre, and so do not need to take a tome to the toilet.  Instead, I imbibe micro text apropos to the time being passed.  Typically this entails re-reading the directions on a condom I received years ago, but for which I have sadly never found a use.  Other times I simply read my Twitter feed.  Twitter, like all feed, is a continual source of nourishment; sometimes it even comes with a surprise buried in its cereal-like goodness.  However, yesterday, I was just plain shocked to read Toronto Cyclist Union's publicist Yvonne Bambrick's endorsement of a rant passed by soured EYE WEEKLY editor, Edward Keenan:

Knowing that Bambrick, like most riders of Dutch bikes, is too concerned about her good looks to dare ruin them with a helmet, I was unsurprised by her opposal to any encouragement to wear one.  I was, however, rather taken aback to read that others should henceforth "shut the fuck up."

Certainly, an old-school hip hop reference would have been more effective:

I guess I was naive to think that someone who brays incessantly--and without provocation--that she's a trained professional publicist would know better than to lash out so viscerally, especially at someone encouraging others to employ what is known in the common tongue as a 'Good Idea'.  Imagine the Toronto Cyclist Union lashing out at someone for suggesting that fenders are a good idea because they protect the rider from road spray? 

The absurdity is palpable: this same woman insists that sensible cycling necessitates a host of accessorial appliqués, such as a chain case, skirt guard, and fenders.  Each component is meant to protect the rider from threats vague and trivial.  But wear a helmet?  Ne'er!!

Perplexed by such gross inconsistency (and the subsequent discord of priorities...), I posed a question to Toronto's twits that I felt justified an answer:

However, being a socially-ostracized clod with complex odour issues and an uncontrollable nervous reflex to bark at shoelaces, I was shunned by my betters.  I am undeterred, however, and though our leaders may provide a poor example, I would like to issue, in their place, the following Public Service Announcement:

Coming soon as a frame sticker near you.  If you want one, details will follow in the coming weeks.