Sram shafts Super Randonneurs and tedious tweed touting tourists with wacky wonder shifter.  The new, portlier, uglier, and less ergonomic shifter adds another nail in the coffin for those who know how to shift the righteous way.  Friction of course.  Fabulously faultless and finely fine-tunable, friction is rejected by racers who refuse to reap the rewards of rebuildable and reliable shifting.  Obviously the only ostensible application for an ass-backward assemblage as this is tri and time trial travesties trying to trump the next chump’s cacophonic collection of Chinese carbon chintz.  (and to coin a colloquialism: chintziphenalia)  Riders rocking righteously ridiculous skin suits and specially situated suck stations (tri geeks holla) clearly cant concentrate on shifting when skin suit style is paramount.  Tri geeks titilate and tempt me into malovent mockery.  Paying to purify prodigioiusly lubricated chains.  (its already clean mate!) Shelling to shed sinfully slothful training tires for tubulars and titanium ten speed cassettes.  Spending cheddar to chamoix and cherish the carbon chintz, chain ring chines, and chain chamfers.  Time is nothing to a tri geek.  Prestige and proper poise propped up by perfect coifs and pedicures.  Underarmor undulates unsolicited in immoral ways.  White rimmed sunglasses speak silently about certain sidelines.  The tri time trialist take tradition and twists it to a technological terminus.  Real riders roll on, hording harems of hardly handled simplex and suntour and shimano six hundred shifters.  The charlatans who cartwheel over compatability and contextual cooridnation for convenience and contemporary con-sensus continue cajoling without carterwauling press to convince consumers to the contrary.  Carbon crap continues to cash in, function loses to form and fashion, tourists keep touring.

Sorry I havn’t written for a while.  Maybe this makes up for it.