In Britain, there's a small and not that vocal cycling lobby. They're tolerated by the police and most other road users. In San Fransisco, that's not the case...

	I saw a thick-necked cop raise his fist and smash it into the face of a girl bicyclist. She went down on the pavement.	"This is what you get, When you mess with us" -"Karma Police"  Radiohead There's a little pizza joint off the intersection of Market and Church streets. Like most things around here, it's not very good, but I hadn't eaten all day and figured a slice of pepperoni might kill the coffee grumbling in my guts. San Francisco hasn't quite mastered the pizza joint: I ordered my slice and was told it would take 10 minutes. Whatever. I walked out, seeking the afternoon paper. Nearby a parking lot cuts behind a foul franchise chicken place, and opens on Market Street next to the beloved Expansion Bar. Something bad was happening there. A crowd of about 40 bicyclists was gathered around a parked motorcycle cop, maybe two of them. It was about 7 p.m. on Friday, and the sidewalks were already busy with people returning from work. I shrugged off the newspaper. As I approached the crowd, there was screaming. And then I saw a thick-necked cop raise his fist and smash it into the face of a girl bicyclist. She went down on the pavement. SF Chronicle Reports Cop Attack [Aug. 3, 12:40 p.m.] -- Finally woke up and read the morning paper. In Monday's edition of the Chronicle, the assault is reported. This version says the victim was a 21-year-old woman named Carla Arellano, identified by riders as a bystander who was punched by one of the cops arresting a male rider, 23-year-old Casey Allen. Could be true. All I know for sure is what I saw, and that's typed in this column. -KDL The kids were riding down Market Street as part of a pro-bicycle demonstration called Critical Mass. Other than taking up some of the street -- bike lanes are almost nonexistent in this city of too many cars and not enough parking spaces -- the kids weren't bothering anybody. Seems like there's a city-approved parade or movie shoot closing the main streets every week. I don't have a car or a bike and I refuse to take public transit, so I was hardly studied in the bicyclists' complaints. But I did see this filthy cop pounding on a girl who looked like anybody out for a nice bike ride. That was enough. A mob gathered. They saw a San Francisco policeman punch a woman who apparently did nothing more than ride with a crowd of bicyclists through an intersection. It was tough to figure out the details. It wasn't tough to figure out the cops. They were cops like always -- a line of grim-faced thugs dressed in helmets and uniforms, billy clubs swinging, radios crackling, ready to bust some heads. You look at these guys and wonder what movie they're imitating. You wonder how they manage to be decent one-on-one, getting coffee at your neighborhood café and talking about baseball or the weather.
	You look at these guys and wonder what movie they're imitating.	The intersection was now blocked by cop cruisers. Bike riders who had already passed Church Street turned back to rally around their buddies. Cars weren't moving at all. Nobody could pass, in a car or on a bike. The street was filled with sirens and angry chants of "Shame on you!" directed at the savage cop. A radio reporter scampered around with his microphone and tape recorder. Without any apparent reason, the sneering policemen arrested two guys on bicycles. The cops hoisted the bikes over their heads and carried them to a cop van. Somebody was in a headlock, or on the pavement and refusing to get up. I was just 10 feet away, but the sidewalk was now jammed with bodies and bikes and cops. The teevee news choppers buzzed overhead. None of this was reported -- I listened to the news radio that evening and checked the newspapers over the weekend, and nothing was said of the brutal pounding of this girl. I don't know her name and I barely saw her face. She may be in the hospital or she may be in jail. Whatever the case, I hope she sues these bastards for $10 million. This kind of outrage is all too common, although it usually happens in the parts of town where the faces are brown and black, not in a hipster-gay-yuppie neighborhood in America's favorite city. There were people of many shapes and sizes and colors on the bikes, but most of them were clean-cut white kids wearing stylish athletic clothing and little helmets for safety. Basically, these are not the kinds of people the cops generally get away with assaulting. But on Friday afternoon, the demographics didn't help the girl who found a fat-necked officer's fist in her face. It's not the first time San Francisco's establishment media has ignored cop savagery at a Critical Mass bike ride. Last year, 110 riders were arrested and the police went berserk throughout the city. The charges against these bicyclists were later dropped, say the newspapers. Something about conflicting police testimony. Surprise.
	The charges against these bicyclists were later dropped, say the newspapers. Something about conflicting police testimony. Surprise.	When the bicyclists did their big ride last year, many witnesses called them buffoons. I don't know; I was in France that week. What I do know is that the bicyclists I talked to on Friday were mostly polite kids who weren't looking for a rumble with the cops. They believe a little city crowded with cars is sort of absurd. If you've ever tried to park in San Francisco, you'd agree. But the buses are shoddy and rare, and the Muni trains are packed with stinking people. If people want to ride a bike, is that worth calling a hundred policemen? Put some damned bike lanes on the major streets and be done with it. It's weird for me to see California cops acting like monsters. I'm white and wear a tie and generally avoid hassles with the law; the cops have generally left me alone. For years I covered the police beat, sharing cigarettes and coffee with detectives and making myself at home in various California police departments. But I wasn't much of a threat, just a guy who typed up the crime reports for the local papers. Later, when I spent some time covering police-brutality lawsuits against the San Diego County Sheriff's Department, I learned that cops were only friendly when it helped their cause. An old Navy chaplain got into a scuffle with the deputies and the deputies beat the hell out of him. No matter that he was just outside his own house, trying to help some people who got mashed up in a nighttime car crash. I covered the civil trial and reported what happened in the courtroom. The deputies didn't like this so much, because the testimony made it pretty clear that the involved cop was a monster. I started getting creepy threats on my voice mail and on my unlisted home number's answering machine. I got nervous. Luckily, my newspaper and my home weren't in the sheriff's jurisdiction, nor was the interstate I drove every day. They controlled the boonies, and I felt reasonably safe knowing the CHP and various city PD's considered me a friend. For the time being.
	I started getting creepy threats on my voice mail and on my unlisted home number's answering machine. I got nervous.	After witnessing the horror on Church and Market streets, I walked home numb with rage and checked the news about the gubernatorial debate between the Nazi Dan Lungren and his allegedly Democratic opponent, Gray Davis. Both had used the debate to proclaim their love and admiration for Singapore's brutal police regime. DAVIS: "I think Singapore is a good starting point in terms of law and order. I think there ought to be clear rules. You can't punish people enough, as far as I'm concerned." And, a little later: LUNGREN: "In Singapore they don't just talk about it, they do something about it." The local papers didn't mention this repulsive little exchange. Not so long ago, we were outraged when Singapore's government wanted to cane one of our boys for vandalism. Sometimes, we would even complain about the lack of political and personal freedom on that sparkly island of office towers and streets spared the cruel ravages of chewing gum. It's strange to think how right Bob Dylan was and still is, after all these years: 'Cause the cops don't need you, and man, they expect the same. Send e-mail to layne@tabloid.net.