Replies

Over three months on these Waco threads and that is a first!

I've always found you lazy. Your posts do not contain original intellectual content or argument, rather it's repetitive, short-sentence posturing.

Obviously you had no proper response to being suckered by my rhetorical questions.

Suckered?

How delightfully funny.

And sad. You're not here to debate, after all. It is not about broadening your understanding, or the understanding of others you encounter. I've extended a hand many times seeking to understand what lies behind your emotional wall, and to hear about any personal experiences that form your opinion and adamant stance. I've been direct and honest in my answers to you, where you have asked them.

It must be very difficult to be so isolated from the community that you are clearly so interested in being a participant in. The isolation isn't necessary. The posting style you employ is not increasing the knowledge or insight, much less opinion, of others. I don't think there's any doubt that your intelligence shows, and your discipline (you are an engineer after all). I would like to see perhaps more genuine engagement rather than mere baiting.

There are folks on Free Republic who disagree with me. Yet in Freepmail we occasionally correspond. I won't name them as their private emails are, after all, private. But it is a good thing to engage with people.

After all, that is why we are here. No man is an island.

How did you come to have such focus on the outlaw biker community, and with such intensity. What drives you?

I'm happy to share in my own right. I grew up on the back of a motorcycle. My father was the road captain of a club on Long Island in the 1970's. It was a riding club, not a three piece patch club. I have fond memories of being on the back of the lead bike. In particular a vivid memory is the funeral of a club member, the first I ever attended. I remember not understanding really how a funeral worked, and I didn't know the member who had been killed in a motorcycle accident. So I didn't understand why I cried and cried in the church and at the gravesite. I was comforted by the long, long column of motorcycles and men and their solemn, deep sincerity and their abiding, respectful presence for a brother.

So that's what drives part of my adherence to a culture many find intimidating or set apart from the norm. A way to judge the depth and bonds of a culture is to understand the importance and the community impact of their death rituals. Military funerals, as an example, are a powerful instance.

The long, winding roar of hundreds of motorcycles ridden by serious, strong and silent men, casting aside rivalry and contention and at times, even warfare to demonstrate respect and solidarity and strength for the loved ones left behind is a thing of nobility; even if an isolated one amid the wenching and the drinking and the fighting and the territorial angst.

All men die, and the road goes on. But bikers remember, and honor their dead more than most.

So what's your story?

What brings you here to us?