I do not suffer from ‘Road Rage’, which is an unfounded, undesirable loss of temper when travelling the highways and byways of this, or any other, fair land. I do however often find myself in a state of ‘Mobility Madness’, a fully justified reaction to the actions and attitude of an ever-growing proportion of my fellow road users who, from here on in, we shall refer to as ‘The Fucking Idiot’ or ‘TFI’ for ease of typing.
I didn’t want to bring this subject up, despite it being right near the top of my ‘Rants To Do’ list as it is a little clichéd, to say the least. A heavily worn track driven down by many, (much like that metaphor) some of whom shouldn’t be on the road in the first place either. But after a short motorised journey, that was so peppered with TFIs that I thought it was a ploy by the Ministry of Transport just to piss me off, I could no longer resist the temptation to pick up this hot potato and squash it into your totally innocent face.
I am a brilliant driver, no doubts about that whatsoever. That’s a bold statement you might rightly say, but I am and the reason I am is that I am a biker and as a biker, my superior road skills transfer over from two to four wheels. A little conceited, you may think, but it’s not it’s just a fact and you have to accept that. After years of dealing with ‘Shiny Arses’ (one of the officially accepted terms for car drivers) trying to kill our asses, we bikers have ninja honed reactions to the environment and the licenced killers we have to share the road with. I could go on about driving for the dick in the car four cars ahead or knowing full well the tit at the junction having made obvious eye contact has not seen us at all or why road markings and manhole covers are important but you probably drive a car and are now wondering what the hell I’m going on about. Those in the know will know what I mean. Now it is established I am a brilliant driver it is time to list just a few of the faults of TFIs that the Good Lord has found it funny to litter the roads with.
Many books have been written that are a waste of tree, some may say I am guilty of that myself but until you have bought and read a copy of ‘The Legend That Is Mad Dog Jackson as Told to Sif’, available on Amazon, you are in no position to judge me. One tome that is no misuse of paper is ‘The Highway Code’ but from what I can tell, through real-world experience, very few buggers have read it or if they have they haven’t understood it. The rules laid out therein are to be applied and be applied by everyone at all times, yet it appears what we have now is a culture of interpretation as if this crucial safety charter were ‘Wuthering Heights’ and we can all take a personal understanding of what the author meant. (My personal take on ‘Wuthering Heights’ is that it is shite; granted, I haven’t read it but I did study Kate Bush’s video a lot back in the day…purely for its literary merits of course.)
I could fill the internet with all the crap driving habits of TFIs and probably still fail to list them all. Misuse or complete lack of use of the factory fitted direction indicator lights. Texting on a mobile phone whilst driving. The completely unfathomable inability to stay in one lane all the way around the roundabout and picking the right one before you enter said obstacle. Driving in the middle lane of a deserted motorway at two o’clock in the morning, doing 45mph. Getting in the outside lane of a dual carriageway because in three miles hence you’re going to be turning right. As I said endless but as my Mobility Madness is already starting to kick my blood pressure skyward I’m going to stop with the list and move onto the specific problem that bugged the arse off me this morning.
If anyone can show me this, I shall fully withdraw my complaint…where the fuck in ‘The Highway Code’ does it say that if you are on the main thoroughfare it is okay to slam on and flash your headlights to let someone waiting at a side junction have the right of way? Three times this morning that happened. Freely moving traffic suddenly brought to a stop by TFI’s criminally misguided use of vehicular courtesy. What the fuck is going through TFI’s head? It’s bad enough for me, an established brilliant driver, but all those poor people using their phones or applying make-up must have shit themselves when they looked up to see the two illuminated red lights of the car in front three inches (7.5cm for our metric readers) from their bonnet (hood, for our American readers).
Luckily for you, I know the root of this problem and I am going to share it with you. You people are truly blessed. It’s arrogance. Good old fashioned arrogance, nothing more, nothing less. The world has become a more arrogant place than it used to be, everyone is so fucking special and they know it…even if they are most likely totally alone in thinking it.
It’s there in our education system from the start, all the kids are told they are wonderful and worthy and they are brilliant at whatever they do. The biggest bucket of horseshit ever collected from the Augean stables (get educated, Google it). We’re not all good at everything and never will be but if your head is filled constantly with this empowering nonsense you start to believe it and apply its falsehood to everything you do in life despite the results to the contrary. Bring back a proper school’s sports day I say, one with sports not beanbag hugging, it’s the best place to learn taking defeat and working hard to better yourself because you’re not brilliant but you can apply yourself to be better.
Social media also has a massive part to play, everyone has a voice nowadays and sadly there’s a place for them to vocalise (shut up, I see the irony here too) but if there was ever a need for a gagging order it’s YouTube and Facebook and Twitter, the latter being a misspelling I’m sure; twats are twattering their twattery as I speak. They get their ‘own channel’, a privilege that was until recently the preserve of proper bastards, that kind of thing is bound to go to your head and it’s going to their heads telling them their worth to society is immeasurable. Mr Chapman highlighted one of them a while back, the bloke who found the suicide in the woods. Who, without a self-worth of a lesser god, would think to film such a thing let alone post it for their own aggrandisement amongst their equally bellendish followers?
TV is no better. ‘Britain’s Got Talent’. Britain may have some talent but not enough to justify the snaking queues I’ve seen on the screen. Why are 90% of them there? Because their arrogance and self-worth has told them they are fucking marvellous at singing or dancing or shoving root vegetables up their arse and making stew on stage…a horrible image that has only this second truly made itself known to me and I apologise for it unreservedly.
All this is inextricably linked to the way TFIs drive on the road. They have got a driving licence – via a bribe or blow-job, I highly suspect – and that paired with their arrogance is making them a liability to all us brilliant drivers, 100% of whom will also have ridden or continue to ride motorcycles on the road. (No, not you, you hoody wearing dick-head pulling a wheelie on your stolen scrambler up the main road because you know the coppers can’t chase you through fear of causing you injury and getting done. You are the reason piano wire should come in a size that stretches between lampposts.)
I am going to request all of you to question yourself before you get behind the wheel of a car and I want you to ask yourselves these questions. ‘Am I the kind of person who will park on the yellow zig-zag lines outside a school?’ ‘Will I answer the phone if it rings in my car even though I do not have a hands-free setup?’ ‘Will I offer up my right of way without reason causing all kinds of grief for the road users behind me?’ ‘Am I the best thing since sliced bread even though everything in my life is telling me to the contrary?’ ‘Do I still remember getting a gold star in primary school for not dribbling from my slack jaw when asked what ‘2 + 2 equals’ even though I still gave the answer ‘giraffe’. If you respond ‘Yes’ to any of the above, please, do us all a favour and step away from the vehicle and get the bus.
I can’t promise this will be the last time I revisit The Bickering Press while suffering the aftereffects of a bout of Mobility Madness, the above is ‘tip of the iceberg’ stuff. All I can do is apologise in advance without actually meaning it.