The Cambridge PD can suck it.

So it finally happened. I proceeded carefully through a red, after stopping, along Mass Ave in Cambridge and lo, two buzzcut headed bullies in blue stopped me and tried to ticket me. Natch, I got out of it, though I’m not going to say how. What I will say is this; don’t try to out run them. They have motorcycles, and they will be pissed if they have to exert themselves, the chubby bastards. Also, don’t try to out talk them. Like most authority figures, it’s a lost cause to try and reason with them logically. Just out think them. It’s not that hard.

Good luck, my fellow rogues!

Ok, I really gave it a shot.

When I was hit by buses on my daily commute, I complained to the MBTA, the police, and our local “Bike Czar”.  ZERO ACTION

When I was repeatedly hit by cars while riding in the bike lane, adhering to the regulations of the road, I followed the same trail of bureaucracy and it led NOWHERE.

Remember this? I filled out quite a few of these complaint forms, and filled them with details of each violation and violator.  NO ACTION

I have repeatedly reported violations, to the point of  going on television (human interest, haha) to showcase the shortcomings of MBTA operators. Since then, the rampant negligence, hostility, and sometimes murderous intent of operators has remained unchanged. This tells me that though reports are being made, they have NO IMPACT on the daily lives of MBTA employees.

Now, the rumor is that Cambridge Police are stepping up cyclist-oriented ticketing. I’m sorry, what WHAT? If you, like me, ride these streets daily, you know that motorists make the monster share of traffic violations. Left on red, running through red, double parking, illegal u turns, harassment of other motorists, hit and runs – give me ten minutes and I can go out and grab at least ten examples on my phone camera. Between Brookline and Somerville, I’m hard pressed to see 5 cyclist run reds, but I have to witness motorists break the law at EVERY CYCLE OF LIGHTS AT EVERY INTERSECTION.

Again. WHAT THE FUCK, Cambridge Police?

If you want to protect cyclists, maybe you should TICKET MORE MOTORISTS.

Maybe this is community backlash brought on by the significant increase in T fares that seem to be on the horizon. Fellow cyclists, have you ever ridden by a 66 bus in October, the people inside sardined against the glass, and really taken a look at their faces? You can tell they’re seething with hate inside, choking on their projected image of the smug, healthy and happy cyclist cruising to work at their own pace every day. I can see how that kind of human wreckage could be feeling significant schadenfreude over this ticketing barrage.

We do not deserve it, and I for one will not fucking stand for it. I will not accept a ticket. Nor will I accept driver’s harassment, threats, taunts and assaults. I will defend myself in whatever manner I see fit, and do everything in my power to avoid street attention by our corrupt and misguided group of overlording institutions.

I gave it my best shot, I really did. Now I guess I’ll be dedicating this blog to the daily thrill of my rebellion. Stay tuned!

Greetings, dear readers. Sorry I left you stranded for so long. It is once again September, which means another summer is over, I am a year older, and the Burning Man cycle has drawn to a close. It’s been alternately a very fun and exciting year and a slow, stressful, painful one. I’m happy to say that I learned a few things, though I won’t bore you with the details. What I will do is show you some pictures from the Burn. Hopefully I’ll be able to keep up this blog a little more consistently this year. I’m still working on the same activism issues I was last time around, but at this point bureaucracy has ultimately failed me. You may be seeing fewer interviews or email correspondence and an increased number of mug shots. I’m sure there won’t be any complaints. Anyhoo, let’s roll this pumpkin!

This was my favorite Mutant Vehicle - a giant scorpion with flame-throwing claws and stinger.

This one isn't bigger on the inside, but it was big enough for our purposes.

Reunited with the kids of Camp Here. You can't find a better group of people on the playa.

Reunited with the beloved hammock where Crash and I fell in love. <3

Squirt gun: check. Boffer sword: check. Bring it.

Gutternaught the chopper returns to the desert in all her creaky, badly lubed glory.

This year I camped with some of my old friends from SCUL. This edifice is the brainchild of MegaSeth, second from the left.

I truly wish that the Hero video camera I was trying out to document my commute had been powerful enough to take quality video/audio for more than 20 minutes at a time. I see some weird shit on my daily journey, and it’s inconvenient to whip out my cell phone, since weirdness is fleeting and phone cams take forever to boot.

On Monday, I believe it was, I nearly rolled over a hand grenade lying in the middle of Mass Ave between Porter and Harvard.

This one, to be exact.

I didn’t think much of it beyond, “oh hey, that’s a hand grenade. It’s probably fake”.  Apparently more cautious folk reported it as ‘suspicious’ later on.

A day later, while cruising through Harvard Square, I witnessed a dogfight. Not that interesting except that the dogs in question were in two separate cars, stopped side by side at a red light. I laughed my balls off at that one.

Today wasn’t very interesting aside from the caravan of entitled asshats who were parked in the bike lane outside 65 N. Harvard St. in Allston. That’s right, the causway of death, which even on a good day is lousy with giant, jangling trucks, speeding yuppies and oblivious Harvard jaywalkers.

This is the last car in a line of three parked in the bike lane waiting to pick up their special snowflakes.

I had a bit of time to kill, so I spent it calling the BPD and reading off make/model/plate, while the drivers berated or begged me. My favorite was the european woman in the gold Toyota minivan, who shrieked, “Yes, yes I was in the wrong but I see that now, I won’t do it again. I swear I won’t do it again!”. Adorable.

I waited for a good ten minutes, while the traffic beeped and cursed around these model citizens (I blocked them off so they couldn’t leave, and why not, they blocked me first.) but when the police hadn’t shown up by then, I gave up. I’d say “There’s never a cop around when you need one.” but that is entirely untrue. Just last week, on this same stretch, a man got out of his car to rant at me and call me a prick for calling the cops on him. As we were shouting at each other, a calm and collected Harvard cop strolled up next to us to observe. During a break in our diatribes, he simply stated, “Sir, she’s right. Please move your car.”  I could have hugged him, I was so happy. But instead I thanked him profusely as the gentleman went on his way. Small miracles, right?

I’m not sure how to ultimately combat illegal parking on this strip aside from constant diligence and aggressive vigilantism. It won’t work, because I rarely see the same drivers twice, but at least it gives me something to look forward to during my commute.

Just when you thought it was safe to have a nice day.

Ok, I’m not really gonna write poetry. I’m no Vogon.

So I lied. (You’ll get used to it.) No Carpunching Gauntlets this time, but it’s only because I haven’t managed to trash pick or road rescue a pair of leather gloves yet. Give it time. The universe will provide.

The weekend before last, The Esteemed Goondocks (mah haus) participated in the first annual Porchfest. If you ain’t been told, Porchfest was a free music event showcasing artists from the area on the porches of the public. Our magnificent Count Sethula, of Goondocks Dungeons, slung delicious foods at passersby, while various and sundry bands sweated and wrought musicky havoc in the FUCKING SUN, CAN  YOU BELIEVE IT? A great time was had by all, but I completely failed to take pictures because I’m dumb like that, and because I can’t be bothered to wear anything with pockets to carry a camera in while I’m in leisure mode.

Here is one picture yoinked from thesapphiresun.com:

Can I just say I love my fucking neighborhood? I live in Ball Square, and prior to the ‘fest my delicious roommates flyered the vicinity in preparation for causing a neighborhood ruckus. I fully expected a bit of dour buzzkill from the older folks who abut us, but nay! Everyone in the ‘hood came out to play, and hung out on their porches to catch the music and the beautiful, nourishing sunshine. We were actually encouraged to repeat the affair as much as we like! I’m thinking that the future of the ‘Docks may be ripe with live band house parties, at least until we’re shut down and deemed an ‘unlicensed club’. Bring it on.

I understand that it’s been dreary and miserable for days, and it’s got people on edge. It’s keeping me hunkered down in my living room surrounded by pillows and blankets and videogames, as I  have been all winter. But seriously, automobile commuters, fucking suck  it up. You have a roof. You have heat (usually). You have FUCKING WINDSHIELD WIPERS. I have to reach up and swipe away the droplets collecting on my glasses with an increasingly sodden glove.

This is why it irks me that drivers somehow think they are allowed to be increasingly homicidal when the weather is bad. I was intentionally hit by another driver today, who intoned the old standby, “you should not be on the road!” as he swerved sharply toward me, knocking my front wheel and sending me over the curb.

I had been in the left lane of Eliot street, Harvard Square, about to take a right on to JFK. I stay in the center of the lane during this turn because impatient drivers tend to cut the corner off as they pass me, creating a pinch point that could send me under the car. The middle eastern gentleman in dark blue sedan, plate 6CJ890, was in the lane to turn left on JFK but swerved sharply into my lane as I passed him, causing me to scream and swerve. I caught his plate as I slowly renavigated around him, and continued on down JFK about an arm’s length from the curb.

The gentleman first tailgated me and then swerved alongside to confront me, stating the old standby. As I started to retort with, “You are WRONG, Sir.” he jerked the car sharply toward me in an arc, hitting me and sending me off my bike and on to the sidewalk. I wasn’t hurt much, just a twist of the right ankle and knee and some  palm jarring, but it could have been much worse.

As I was on my way to work in Brookline, I wasn’t able to report this to the Cambridge police, and frankly, I’m not sure I even will. What is the point? The last two times I reported these incidents, I was told nothing could be done.

I regret that this ‘blog’ is turning into a running account of the impotency of the pro-cyclist movement in terms of driver deference, but I am only reporting what I encounter. I don’t encounter people waiting patiently at intersections, or stopping obediently at red lights. I watch people, day in and day out, run red lights, travel in the bike lane, double park, turn left against red and through pedestrian lights, and hit cyclists without remorse over and over and over.

Infrastructure planning is great, but the real challenge is changing the way cyclists are viewed and treated by motorists (and pedestrians, though they endanger us a bit less). And I don’t really see any headway happening in that arena. I wish I had some suggestions, but having to witness the wanton acts of stupidity and violence perpetrated by motorists daily, I am at a loss to even begin how to change their way of thinking. There is simply no way to reach these people. They don’t take the T, so a sign campaign would be fruitless. They may watch television, but who is going to spend the money on commercial spots for PSA’s about how to respect cyclists rights and bodies?

I know what you’re going to say. “Lead by example. Follow the rules, be courteous, and motorists will follow in kind.” And to that I say,

“HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHahahahahahaha..haha…ha.. *cough*  *cough* ”

I used to say the same thing, about six years ago. Since then I’ve learned that no amount of good will and positive example will keep me safe on the roads of Massachusetts or anywhere else.

So ok, I swear that this is the last  of these posts. There is no point in me stating and restating my argument.

Next post, I swear to god, will be a tutorial on how to make Carpunching Gauntlets.

As I’ve reflected previously, it is absolutely impossible to hold a motorist accountable for destructive, negligent or abusive behavior unless you, the cyclist, have sustained personal injury or damage to your bike. Even then, many times the incident is deemed purely accidental, and no blame is laid even if the incident resulted in the death of one or more cyclists.

I propose new legislature that allows cyclists to turn in motorists for harassment and negligent driving. This would not be a criminal offense, but should be a ticketable offense with a significant monetary penalty. This offense should also go on the driver’s record and be reported to their insurance company.

If you commute by bicycle, you know that there are kind, attentive drivers, distracted, oblivious drivers, and drivers who are downright homicidal. In order to protect ourselves from the latter two, we should be given a voice in the form of a hotline or online form, which a cyclist may use to report drivers who endanger them with the assurance that the motorist in question will be cited.

Really, it’s only fair. Of course this train of thought stems from an experience during today’s morning commute. After tailgating me and honking, a black compact car driven by some flabby, shabby looking woman squeezed past me (NE237 I think was the plate) and again honked while swerving toward me and revving her engine. When I caught up to her at the red light, intoning, “Hey! This is my road, too!”, she barked her reply, “Not the middle of it, you bitch!”. Apparently she was unaware of the new laws stating a cyclist can ‘take the lane’ in a narrow area that lacks a bike lane.  Before I could illuminate her, she swerved dangerously around me, again spitting curses at me.

Should she get ticketed for this? Absolutely. Not only is she unaware of the mass laws allowing cyclists to take the lane, and requiring motorists to leave a three foot space for cyclists, she endangered my life by tailgating my bicycle with a two ton vehicle and honking in order to intentionally startle me. Drivers like this should have their privileges revoked, as they are essentially murderers in the making.  I see motorists behave like this every single day, week in, week out, and it will never change until there are consequences.

If the car is no longer king in Boston, prove that shit. Give cyclists some power and protection on the road.

This is hilarious. At my favorite intersection, where I have almost been flattened on numerous occasions by MBTA buses running red lights, and where every day I watch conga lines of motorist blatantly ignore their signals, there is a new billboard.

Is this some kind of subliminal message to motorists? As if they need another reason to blow through this light.