Critical Mass San Diego

Pics from the July 27th Critical Mass.
Rough estimate of about 300-400 riders. Fixies, Multi-speeds, mountain bikes, a pretty awesome BMX crew, warriors and the usual assortment of scum and villainy (plus the drunk faction).

Flight of the Neon Birds…

At the end of 5th Street. Down Town was quite full, regular shiny shirt guys speaking ‘dood’ and females in short skirts speaking ‘like’ plus a host of San Diego Comic Con revelers, some dressed in storm trooper outfits. Every Friday night should be like this.

Corner of Park and Adams. Frame right, unseen, lurks a seriously pissed off grandma. I wonder what would happen if there was an emergency with a car, like someone had a heart attack or was squirting out a flesh turd and had to get to the hospital in a hurry during a CM ride?

Adams and 30th. Its interesting to see all the black clad goth types hanging outside Quidan and all the frat/skank types carousing outside of air conditioned on either side of the street while homeless drunks hang out in front of the liquor store and haggle for refried cigarettes…pint of whiskey was finally opened at this stop. delicious.

this one turned out to be the coolest. looks like a bunch of neon stick figures dancing on the heads of blurry bikers in the night. good visual metaphor for the evening. the route actually took me to the black box to watch the north atlantic play their last show.

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one end to the other

chester shambleton jammed some good horn. pants triscari worked that mic like a pole dancer in a rap video. its all connected to a lynchian theme of sex and anticipation. what do we wait for? is it the skin? the endorphin rush of conquering new skin…or old skin peeling away to reveal the layers of 11 years spinning into a cacophony of something real. they tell you it matters. they tell you its all for naught. they tell you it makes a hell of a soundtrack to the apocalypse. we like the blue box. it warms us with its mystery . and then the days that we wonder what the hell it is we’re doing typing away, picking the flesh from our bones and selling our wares, we realize that those that came before came a lot. when they were fucking…ahem! right?

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