fashion & clothingThe Emperor decrees

The Emperor decrees a ban on bike shorts

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I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:

Emperor’s Decree No. 12/X: Shhh. We do not care about the padded crotch and buttocks. There is no argument you can make that will convince us to allow bicycling shorts to be worn, anymore. The cursed garments are just wrong. You know it and we know it. We have all averted our eyes to avoid gazing upon the compressed goods of this or that errant cyclist. It’s simply gross. Icky, in fact. The Emperor envisions a world of aesthetic joy for all happy minions. Nothing causes joyous interruptus on the morning commute (which is typically joyless anyway) than a casual glance over at the anatomically intimate accentuation of some middle-aged fop’s schwazzeels as he stands in order to gain peddle-force on an incline in the road. No one should have to see this. Think of the children!

The Punishment: You want compression shorts? We’ll GIVE you compression shorts! (Just throw on a pair of sweat pants, for heaven’s sake. The Emperor begs you from the depths of his sad, image-burned eyes.)

The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.

Chris Matarazzo is a writer, composer, musician and teacher of literature and writing on the college and high school levels. His music can be heard on his recent release, Hats and Rabbits, which is currently available. Chris is also the composer of the score to the off-beat independent film Surrender Dorothy and he performs in the Philadelphia area with the King Richard Band. He's also a relatively prolific novelist, even if no one seems to care yet. His blog, also called Hats and Rabbits, is nice, too, if you get a chance...
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2 Responses to “The Emperor decrees a ban on bike shorts”

  1. Egad – imagine you are eating breakfast out at a favorite local hole-in-the-wall on a Saturday morning. It’s half-full and relaxed and you’re anticipating that chorizo omelet. Your waitress is just bringing your order hot from the kitchen. Suddenly, there is a commotion at the door as the local cyclist club has just finished their Saturday morning ride and twenty or so descend upon the restaurant. The nice, simple atmosphere is invaded by a bunch of noisy, sweaty, loud cyclists between the ages of 20 and 60. And, the coup de grace of the sensory invasion is that they are all wearing skin-hugging spandex.
    Some of them are in shape and their forms are not overly offensive. Given that, who wants to eat breakfast while gazing upon the sweaty visage of someone’s physique – no matter the condition of the person? As an added bonus, several of the cycling club members are less than appealing in their appearance and the tight-fitting, sweaty material they wear accentuates their “imperfections.” All this before we consider how skin tight spandex reveals parts of the human body that modesty (and courtesy for weak stomachs) begs some discretionary covering.

  2. Brian — THE HORROR!!!! You understand, clearly, the heinousness of bike shorts.

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