This is gonna tell you all about the bicycle jesus and the ongoing quest for him.

So here ya goes, beware..

Bicycle Jesus, circa 1700, egg tempera, Notre Dame

  We've all heard tales about that magical, mystical place we can ascend to in our sleepy dreams, our trance-like long downhill coasts, our alcohol-induced hazes.   That place is bicycle heaven.  It is there that Bicycle Jesus is Lord. 

     In bicycle heaven everywhere you need to go is downhill and just around the corner.  The asphalt doesn't scratch you, there are no flat tires.  Your bike does not shake or rattle, it simply rolls.  Your brake pads never wear out nor need adjustment.  Top tube-genital contact is never more than pleasantly tender.  All the bicycle seats smell like roses.  Chains and cables are unbreakable.  Your frame will break only if that's what you really want, but they've all got free replacements, so...

     Anyway, it's one heckuva place.  So thats why that's where the Bicycle Jesus (or Bike Jeez or simply BJ, heh-heh) does most of his hanging out.  I mean, wouldn't you?  There is a little Bicycle Jesus in all of us I'm sure.  Plus, there's his trouble with the man down here.  History shows us everybody in power is sure to misunderstand the savior.  There was that water-to-wine stint in the 70's at SoCal pool parties that got him in a lot of trouble too.

     Few and far between are the earthen stories of BJ, our Lord.  Primitive cave drawings show ancient belief.   Cunieform translations are our first clues. 

Goddess Velpa, taming the Fiery Beast of Two Round Legs

Popular conceptions are the best we have to go on.  It seems that some riders have experienced the haunting high-pitched whistle when he is near, resulting from the wind whistling through his missing front teeth as he hickey-bobs on 18-wheelers in the immediate vicinity.  He is known to bear stigmata, bleeding raspberries on his elbows and knees, he suffers the scab so that others need not.  He can look cool pedalling  in flowing robes, which is no small feat.

     It was Bicycle Jesus who first gave man the tall-bike, so that he may "ride closer to bicycle heaven" in his daily pursuits.   It is commonly believed that BJ has something to do with 3-speed hubs, but these intricate contraptions are actually the work of space aliens, homing devices, widely dispersed in the 1950's into a highly sophisticated network across the world enabling an interlocating saucer navigating grid yet to be surpassed by mankind's geostationary orbiting satellites of today.  Space aliens are all evil, what with their abductions, probes, and the like and are therefore unwelcome into the house of our bicycle lord. 

     Prophets have conjectured that BJ also gave us the kickstand, so that one might symbolically always have something to lean on when the lord is not near, or otherwise indisposed.

Above rides the first known gang in history, those whom we base our lives upon. With tonight's sophistry of 3 wheels, we are set for the four and five machines.

There are ancient newspaper articles about the gang, but little true proof. (Looking for true proof?, ye are in the wrong place!) Has their been a little of that destruction of the truth stuff they talk about on the X-Files? We worry greatly that the "woman in the red dress" will ne'er return. No nazi mustaches are allowed in our club. Can you hear her tricycle? Listen close on your next ride.

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