Sneaky Bastard

Last night, I rode with many other cyclists in the Ride of Silence in Thousand Oaks, CA. By my count, there were 70 riders participating, although I believe that number is low. Before the departure, J.C. spoke to the crowd, reminding us of the reason to assemble, and setting the proper tone. We tied ribbons to our arms. Black ribbons indicated that the wearer was mourning the loss of a fellow cyclists; a red ribbon that a person had been previously hit by a motor vehicle. Some wore both colors, but I think that wearing red has an implied message of mourning. We rode in silence. It was eerie being surrounded by so many cyclists, and hearing only the sounds of our bikes.

The Ventura County Sheriff’s Department was represented by at least three officers riding in the group on police bikes. I don’t know if they were on duty, or there in solidarity (or both). In any case, I think VCSD does a tremendous job. Of course, they don’t issue citations to all the people I would, but I’m a grumpy old man. Heh.

As usual, there were a couple of jackasses in attendance. I don’t know why so many fixed gear, big city bicycle messenger wannabes find it necessary to violate all the traffic laws and seek out confrontations with motor vehicle drivers. They had the stench of Critical Mass. For the most part, however, the event was conducted lawfully and with courtesy.

The CVC club site will have pictures from the event in the photo gallery. The local paper, Ventura County Star, reported about the event the previous day: Ride to Honor Killed, Injured Bicyclists. I imagine there will be another story to follow; I saw two news photographers there.

About a year ago, someone that I trust and admire recommended a movie to me. I ordered the DVD from Amazon and watched it. More accurately, I watched the first twenty minutes before I needed to pause it and take a break. It was just too frustrating to continue. The movie was The Secret, based on the unbelievably popular book of the same title. I later finished the movie after multiple, short sessions.

I’ve wanted to post a blog about The Secret for quite a while, but I hesitated. Two things recently prompted me to follow through: 1) a friend of mine was forced to watch it as part of a massage class, and 2) one of my favorite podcasts covered the topic, and I wanted to share it with both of my readers. In Skeptoid #96, Brian Dunning does a good job covering the high-points (low-points?) of The Secret. The audio file is mirrored here, so you can listen to it easily.

There were some parts of the movie that I found acceptable. I like the idea that a person takes accountability and ownership of their life. I don’t mean that they are to blame for anything, or that they have the power over everything. Rather, that a person is committed to an outcome, and events occur that move a person closer to, or further away from achieving the outcome. Making a commitment to a goal may cause a person to see solutions where none had been before.

Sitting through the The Secret was excruciating. The gross mischaracterization of quantum physics is laughable. The irrational belief and faith in a mysterious, external force is childish. There is no such thing as a miracle; you cannot attribute success to magic. The universe does not care if you succeed or fail. Beyond all of that, I am disgusted at the horribly irresponsible suggestion that disease can be cured with positive thinking.

Update:
A friend (the one that wishes me dead in the blog comments) sent me a YouTube link for The Secret Exposed. Bunnies + sarcasm = hilarity

I went to Staples this morning to look for some parts that they didn’t have. I strolled through the computer area, just to see what they had on display. One of the Dell laptops propped up on an isle endcap was halted with a Microsoft blue screen of death. This made me laugh out loud in the store, and I was compelled to take a photo of it with my iPhone.

This is just too delicious. From the Houston Chronicle’s blogs is a post titled Perhaps spell check is in order…. I’m just giddy over this photograph. I probably shouldn’t take so much joy in a protester’s (possible) embarrassment, but I do.