Rococo capitalism - the manufacture and consumption of the completely unnecessary - surely reaches a morbidly-accessorised apotheosis in the figure of the Australian Weekend Cyclist tumescent with the overt symptoms of Obsessive Lycra Disorder: longish shorts/shortish longs featuring replete colostomy bag at the rear, zippered shirts spattered in faux Tour/Giro advertising, cleated footwear, ineffective helmets, innumerable plastic bottles and tubes, rudeness to cafe staff and non-cycling patrons, road sanctimony, and complete lack of awareness that the global cycling world finds the antipodean pose preposterous. Next: "Lance Armstrong" Signature EPO. Gives the weekend cyclist that extra edge.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, where does all the lycra - and accumulated secretions - end up? In the mid-Pacific gyre, of course! Branding the littoral of The Great Plastic Island. It's enough to make a fish sick.
Just ride a bike!
Off with their heads.
That's all for now.