On Cohesiveness

By Chris Dannen

In my short tenure on earth, I have learned a handful of things. I cannot trust the government; Keanu Reeves is mentally retarded; fast food is neither real fast nor real food. But most importantly, I have learned that mountain bikers are a fickle bunch. Now, there are exceptions to all these laws of nature (White Castle, I am ever yours) but for the most part, I can count on this stuff.

Taking into account the latter law, it’s no surprise that I rarely ride regularly with the same guys. This particular week I had the fortune of doing two very disparate rides: one with an old racing buddy, and the other with a novice rider.

So I could devote the rest of this column to the lessons I learned: how inspiring it is to introduce a friend to our fine sport, or how good it feels to completely school a rider who used to wipe the trail with my race times just last year. But I’m feeling wily, and I don’t have the patience for that kind of reflective Mickey Mouse bullshit. In fact I’d rather talk about how retarded Keanu Reeves is, and what Mr. Reeves’ ostensible mental deficit can teach the mountain biking community.

I’m going to begin by admitting outright that Point Break is one of my favorite movies. I dig the way it glorifies extreme sports enthusiasts as cut-throat and dashing, equating them with bank robbers not only in their love of danger, but also in its their aversion to day jobs. To boot, I find Swayze delicious. But, like, not in a gay way.

But the real silliness of Point Break is that it occurs in a world without prerequisites. Granted, the last time I saw the movie, I was pirate-drunk in someone’s basement in high school – but I don’t recall Keanu following any FBI protocol at any juncture in the plot. He obviously didn’t go to FBI school, or wherever the hell FBI guys go to learn to hunt kiddie-porn connoisseurs, and receive those cheap-ass navy blue windbreakers. (You know, seriously, these guys are busting big time derelicts. They at least deserve halfway-decent wind and rain protection; can’t the government stop fellating Lockheed Martin long enough to splurge on some Mountain HardWear?)

But back to the K-man: we, the viewers find him in the midst of an adventure he doesn’t deserve to have. But that matters less and less as the movie progresses, because as far as we can tell, his character is twice as prepared for the story as the surfer-robbers he infiltrates. Since when do surfers have the logistical know-how to engage in organized crime? The surfers I know have a hard time orchestrating the 5-5-5 deal at Domino’s; where did they learn to knock over banks, shoot guns and avoid the fuzz so aptly? Did they take some sociopathic night classes after dropping out of Ridgemont High? I don’t think they did.

Now I could also cite Speed and it’s unfortunate successor, Speed II, as examples of the mutton-headedness that seems to follow Keanu around Hollywood. But in both instances, these movies do not even deserve recognition as the products of healthy human brains. So we’re just going to pretend someone dug them up from a shipwreck, where they were the cargo on a vessel that had departed from a colony of retired pro boxers, headed for some nation of meth-heads whose national sport is MarioKart.

So that brings us to that leathery juggernaut, The Matrix. Admittedly, I may be skipping some movies here, but I don’t care, because fairness has no place in this argument.

Many sci-fi melvins consider The Matrix no less than brilliant film-making. The plot is so original and perverse, they might say. The social commentary is so ominous, they might coo, over a bowl of Cookie Crisp in their mom’s house. But I contend that somewhere, the two dudes that wrote this thing are laughing. Because these movies are massively ironic: they’re a pop culture one-liner. Let’s discuss!

Human civilization is in terrible peril, at the hands of super-intelligent artificial intelligence. They have used legions of super-powerful computer processing might to subvert us all into coppertops. And only the psychic energy of one man can save us. Only the mental discipline, the conceptual flexibility, the break-neck learning curve and the supreme concentration of one being can defeat the computers. And that dude is Ted of Bill and Ted fame? Now, I don’t profess to be brilliant, but I can’t even beat my PowerBook at chess. In reality, it’s pretty obvious that this dude has the psychic potency of a hamster, and he’s saving mankind? Okay, sure.

What Keanu does harness effectively, however, is the ability to wear a trench-coat/dress with considerable panache. So what have we learned?

I joked in my last column that looks are everything. And yes, I still get more aroused by those baby-blue mud tires than I care to admit. But yesterday, I took my buddy out on the first mountain bike ride of his life, and watched him clean a rock garden that tripped up the guy behind him – the guy behind him, in Sidi’s, on a Litespeed.

I’m willing to give homeboy on the Litespeed the benefit of the doubt; maybe he was hung over, or maybe he had just triple-dosed on Robitussin. But more likely than not, his over-emphasis on appearance brings me back somewhere in the neighborhood of my original point, which I can’t remember. So in sum: the government is retarded, you can’t trust fast food and Keanu Reeves is neither Keanu nor Reeves. And I need a nap.

Reader Comments

Posted Wed Apr16, 2008, 1:36 AM — By Louis

You make no sense dude! I think you are the one on drugs and you brain is as big as a salt grain! You are stupid!

Posted Sun May25, 2008, 9:41 PM — By Travis

Louis, You've missed the point of the article, that or you have zero sense of humor. Whatever the case, you seem to be nothing more than a mean guy. This made me laugh out loud numerous times. Well done. keep these coming and "Louis" can go read a Mad mag if tis is "too complicated for him"

Posted Sun Sep28, 2008, 2:09 PM — By Cornelius

I just accidently the WHOLE column.