Why Bicycle People Race, by Dr Wilson.

On Sun, 22 Feb 2004 08:13:06 +0100 (CET), futureworlds wrote:
Dr Wilson a well know bicycle racer, this is his vision of life
from the bicycle seat: [...]

What in the world was that all about?

What a bunch of ridiculous drivel. Probably funded by our tax dollars.

Well, at least you said he was a well-known bicycle racer and not a
well-known writer.

In article ,
Ewoud Dronkert wrote:

On Sun, 22 Feb 2004 08:13:06 +0100 (CET), futureworlds wrote:
Dr Wilson a well know bicycle racer, this is his vision of life
from the bicycle seat: [...]

What in the world was that all about?

"Don't worry, smoke crack..."

--
tanx,
Howard

"We're not laughing -at- you, we're laughing -with- you..)
"But... I'm not laughing???"
Happiness

remove YOUR SHOES to reply, ok?

futureworlds wrote in
orlds.it:

Dr Wilson a well know bicycle racer, this is his vision of life from the
bicycle seat:

I have given a pretty faithful version of progress, law, morality and
all other fine qualities that various highly intelligent men have
discussed in so many books, only to conclude that after all everyone
dances to his own personal boomboom, and that the writer is entitled to
his boomboom: the satisfaction of pathological curiosity; a private bell
for inexplicable needs; a bath; pecuniary difficulties; a stomach with
repercussions in life; the authority of the mystic wand formulated as
the bouquet of a phantom orchestra made up of silent fiddle bows greased
with philtres made of chicken manure. With the blue eye-glasses of an
angel they have excavated the inner life for a dime's worth of unanimous
gratitude. If all of them are right and if all pills are Pink Pills, let
us try for once not to be right. Some people think they can explain
rationally, by thought, what they think. But that is extremely relative.
Psychoanalysis is a dangerous disease, it puts to sleep the anti-
objective impulses of men and systematizes the bourgeoisie. There is no
ultimate Truth. The dialectic is an amusing mechanism which guides us /
in a banal kind of way / to the opinions we had in the first place.

Does anyone think that, by a minute refinement of logic, he has
demonstrated the truth and established the correctness of these
opinions? Logic imprisoned by the senses is an organic disease. To this
element philosophers always like to add: the power of observation. But
actually this magnificent quality of the mind is the proof of its
impotence. We observe, we regard from one or more points of view, we
choose them among the millions that exist. Experience is also a product
of chance and individual faculties. Science disgusts me as soon as it
becomes a speculative system, loses its character of utility-that is so
useless but is at least individual. I detest greasy objectivity, and
harmony, the science that finds everything in order. Carry on, my
children, humanity . . . Science says we are the servants of natu
everything is in order, make love and bash your brains in. Carry on, my
children, humanity, kind bourgeois and journalist virgins . . . I am
against systems, the most acceptable system is on principle to have
none. To complete oneself, to perfect oneself in one's own littleness,
to fill the vessel with one's individuality, to have the courage to
fight for and against thought, the mystery of bread, the sudden burst of
an infernal propeller into economic lilies....

Every product of disgust capable of becoming a negation of the family is
Bicycle rider; a protest with the fists of its whole being engaged in
destructivc action: *Bicycle rider; knowledge of all the means rejected
up until now by the shamefaced sex of comfortable compromise and good
manners: Bicycle rider; abolition of logic, which is the dance of those
impotent to create: Bicycle rider; of every social hierarchy and
equation set up for the sake of values by our valets: Bicycle rider;
every object, all objects, sentiments, obscurities, apparitions and the
precise clash of parallel lines are weapons for the fight: Bicycle
rider; abolition of memory: Bicycle rider; abolition of archaeology:
Bicycle rider; abolition of prophets: Bicycle rider; abolition of the
futu Bicycle rider; absolute and unquestionable faith in every god
that is the immediate product of spontaneity:* Bicycle rider; elegant
and unprejudiced leap from a harmony to the other sphere; trajectory of
a word tossed like a screeching phonograph record; to respect all
individuals in their folly of the moment: whether it be serious,
fearful, timid, ardent, vigorous, determined, enthusiastic; to divest
one's church of every useless cumbersome accessory; to spit out
disagreeable or amorous ideas like a luminous waterfall, or coddle them -
with the extreme satisfaction that it doesn't matter in the least-with
the same intensity in the thicket of one's soul-pure of insects for
blood well-born, and gilded with bodies of archangels. Freedom: Bicycle
rider Bicycle rider Bicycle rider, a roaring of tense colors, and
interlacing of opposites and of all contradictions, grotesques,
inconsistencies: LIFE and DEATH –

Dr Wilson, Jan. 2004 With thanks to T.T.

This sounds like either mad lib (ie blah blah blah insert sport here blah
blah blah) or a computer program designed to spew forth this drivel.

- BS