Saturday, September 10, 2005

Chunkathalon Essays

Late one Friday night Thud left me a message mumbling something about an essay contest for the upcoming Chunkathalon. Intrigued, I called him back and we ended up drinking Lucky on my porch 'til 4 in the morning. And so the Essay Contest was added to this year's Chunkathalon. We enlisted the assistance of Meagan from Magpie to handle the topic(s), seeing as she had included essay questions in numerous alley cats in the past and was perceived by many as being pretty good at it, and since if CHUNK 666 came up with the topics, then we'd know what the topic was days before anyone else. And that would be cheating.

Meagan came up with three topics (of which each team had to write one essay regarding one topic), with bonus points for a limerick. The topics were as follows:

1. Coca Cola approaches your chopper club with an opportunity to be in a commercial promoting their product. Explain your decision to accept or decline their offer, and the issues you confronted in making this decision.

2. Compare and contrast altruistic and profit-minded motivations for chopper sales and distribution, touching specifically on the social and ethical ramifications thereof.

3. Describe in detail your vision of the future of our fair Nation’s bicycle communities, were they to be denied the comic relief and spiritual sustenance afforded them by bike clubs such as yours.

This is not a requirement of said competition but would amuse us greatly. As would be expected the theme could be bikes and choppers or your bike club.

Moments before the winners were announced, I checked in on where the Judges had recessed to tally the scores (and grade the essays). Scorekeeper James was at work at the calculator, and the essays were laying in a crumpled stack on a table. I snatched them up, since I didn't want them lost to the ages, then realized I had nowhere to put them. Fortunately, at that moment Liberator came limping out of the rest rooms. I declared it her sacred trust to history itself to keep the essays in her bag until I could get them later. She not only took them into her safekeeping, but saved me a ton of time and transcribed them! So buy Liberator a drink the next time you see her!

I scanned some of the essays and affixed them with their respective transcribed contents, just to give you an idea of what these things came out looking like. The essays are in no particular order.


In exquisite campes style

So so some CrakoCola A&R mofo says to da aristocrates: “money money whore whore” “I make you kids famous” “put you up on the blue glow” “choppa’s & coke man it’s a new hot synergy” “we make it together kids” & we da aristocrats talk amongst “yeah yeah like skulhead face, play the slave pit to the ultimate potential” well well we drop the ibogaine supply into world wide- (new handwriting) So people know to avoid that shit before too long, and bike riding gains popularity. Why? Because people are off the shit that keeps them inside, and they’re so thankful to our team, and chopper builders they want to get in on that rad action. Cars stop running because there is no gas and no coke, and bikes rule the roads… but the chopper is KING! (new handwriting) But so is Coke. Wreathed in their crown of red and silver, cola, cola, cola, confused synapses bloated w/ caffeine. I remembered that the dollar sign is where it’s at and cash rules everything. Cream. (new handwriting) In fact I prefer dirty money! Food tastes better when it’s bought with the blood of innocent children, beer gets you drunker, and drugs get you more fadeder. That’s why we now build all our bikes with coca-cola brand aluminum.


If the nations of Canada and the United States were denied us and our comic relief & spiritual sustenance, many bad things would happen. There would be a lack of community and camaraderie and everyone would become zombies that were controlled by corporations. The corporations would make lists and rules about who could ride bikes. We would all end up bowing down to the man because our free spirits had been drained. We want to be free to ride our machines without being hassled by the man.


Take the #*%@!! Money. Osama bin Laden took the money. What did he do? Shackled the Pentagon!! For at least 125 years, people interested in the tearing down of gov./corporations have had a common need: greenbacks!! (or Pesos if you’re in Mexico). The most logical and sometimes easiest method to get these shiny Euros is to steal them. 2nd easiest is to agree to take the dinero from the government/corporation graciously. The shitheads (name hidden for the safety of the club) took the money in exchange for riding a bunch of crappy, I mean cool, home made bikes in front of some kids pretending to be modern day Jack Karowacks (name misspelled to protect the innocent).

The potential for insurgent mayhem waged via the free Rupee’s is limitless. Bike chapters could secretly install “taste testers” in the Coca-Cola R & D group. “I want that smooth cola flavor with a cat piss aftertaste.” “I loved eating charcoal as a kid, what if we put it in the can and call it Coca-Coala!” “How about New Coke!” Another good idea is to just let kids drink as much as they want and allow adult onset diabetes to become a first rate national health epidemic.

Is it honest to say you will use the money for an anti Coke cause? The shitheads in san fran were recently seen pulling out of the metro metal recycling facility in an empty ford F-750 stretch limo pickup truck. They were blaring “My mind’s on my money and my money’s on mind…..” On second thought, all money corrupts don’t take the money.


For the untold millions in Nigeria, who would otherwise suffer their lives without knowledge of the ways of bike chopping, and for the untold millions of dollars that the Coca-Cola company would pay us to further their mission of thirst-quenching, we would have no option but accept the offer and ride in cola-flavored glee trough the world spreading a message of imperfection and glee. Numerous benefits would abound for the M&M flavored people of the African Nation. Were the world conquered by fork wielding longbikes, from Africa down, neither the military nor cultural powers of earth would have either the willingness or the capabilities to overthrow the unintended world domination (dominion) which the corporation of Coca-Cola and its hollow threat of counterculturedom (a word filled with the image of the phallus) (via the offer of inter-dimensional stardom to we (THE TEAM Fridge-Underdweller) would bring! Thus we would accept the folly filled offer of Coca-Cola and demolish all that is.


The Coca Cola people had made their offer. $1000 for being filmed a bit, and we might end up in an ad. We’d just have to do as they said, sign off our culture and ride our bikes for them.

Mr. Frazzle spit on the ground and scoffed. “Why don’t you see us on store bought so-called choppers? Or drinking your sugar fizz death? We won’t give you money to ruin more people’s lives with exploitation and murder. Begone scum of the earth!” And then Ralph grabbed a pedal wrench, and thought ‘Van Gogh burnt his brushes to stay warm; I’m not compromising to these bitches. I’ll sell this wrench for lunch.’

There once was a club in the Bay
Coke offered them money for pay
They made a shit ad
It made us all sad
Coz selling out’s never okay


2013. Babies eating babies. Chewing through spandex and melanoma. Internal combustion has proven itself [a fable]? but the country of Shimano has risen to the foamy cream of the cushion. Their firm grip on the pocketbooks and lipstick traces on the faces of [Aghasta]? has both exemplified the power and hinted at the Achilles heels of the moving and commuting bodies. Chopper clubs such as CHUNK can not be stopped, like rats, cockroaches, raccoons etc. they will always adapt and return to rewild the city – so the question is somewhat moot. Obviously attempts to stifle and repress the clubs are a bad idea, would be unpopular and would result in a backlash. Thus, ironically, strengthening the freak bike movement.

I was at the CHUNK 666 battle
When Karl laid his tongue on my saddle
My girl said that’s sweet
His mouth on your seat\
But I’d rather eat spongiform cattle

Some say Chunkathalon’s great
But I sit on my ass and just wait
I’m getting’ frenetic
Here waxin’ poetic
I shoulda kept ridin’ my skate

There once was a beautiful skunk
Who wanted to join up with CHUNK
So I gave it some feed
We smoked out some weed
And I filled it up with my spunk

There once were some bikes in a trunk
When dusted and rode they went “CHUNK!”
To make the sound louder
We welded ‘em prouder
And that’s how 666 it got thunk

Well-hung with star-studded medallions
Bust your ears with our chainrings a-growlin’
Hide all your ladies
We ride chopped since the 80’s
Bitch we ride like fuckin’ wild stallions

There once were some assholes in cars
Who only knew how to fight wars
They battled with choppers
Got thrown in a hopper
And we launched them like turds from our arse


The first time we saw a corporate logo encrusted chopper all 4 of us experienced feelings of joy and disgust. Whoa! Chopper! … Followed quickly by wait – that’s corporate.

Mike’s Hard Lemonade has perhaps profited the most from the current chopper craze. With advertising and giveaways, Mike’s has jumped onto the chopper bandwagon & is steering the handlebars. Every gas station up and down the coast sells “Chopper” shirts (OCC is albeit motor choppers but the same idea). Bike choppers are cool, nifty, edgy and becoming a status symbol. But where does the name chopper come from? You chop the forks, weld them together and you have a d bike. DIY is key with choppers.

So is it any better to just make choppers at home and give them to friends? Maybe. It’s hard to say – giving away or selling DIY choppers still means that the people getting the choppers are not participating in the manufacture of them. As with punk/grunge music and thrift store clothes, DIY is imminently commodifiable. If someone wants a chopper, motorized or not, it should be with some participation of the rider to receive the bike. DIY is too precious and too easily corruptible.

There once was a student at Lyons
Who decided to bugger the swans
The faithful hall porter
Said, “Pray take my Daughter,
The swans are reserved for the Dons!”


Future bike communities were they to be denied the creative mayhem of our respective bike clubs would still be drawn to the fringes of bike culture. When an element of an eco-system is removed, it inevitably is replaced by something else (unless you lose the base element).

In an effort to be different or show love for individuals.

We want to be free
Free to do what we want to do
Free to ride our machines
Without being hassled by the man
And we want to get loaded


This era is no different from any other. There are always jerks in charge, and then others. Eventually some other jerks are in charge and then sometimes what are referred to as ‘the people’ or ‘the masses’ or ‘the seething hordes’ rise up and have a great big freakout. Lots of people get hurt and maybe the jerk in charge gets a little annoyed or a lot nervous or has a chuckle or gets their balls chopped off, only to have new, bristlier, tougher sets grow in, but most importantly, a lot of people figure out what really matters. FUN!! After the mo’ money mo’ problems, whatever gets them through the night is all that the masses have to hold onto, and it is a little bit of love and a whole lotta fun and the revolution will be the best party ever and the only one that anyone remembers and it will be lit by cash-fueled fires and the thirst of the hordes will be slaked by vats of coca cola and some will denounce it and the judges will be the most attractive judges I have ever seen and I will dance on the graves of the naysayers with both my legs broken and I will be laughing…


We all can afford it
Especially the stupid
It ruins our kidneys
And delays the onset of pubid.
Scourge of our neighborhoods
A blight on our kids
Chunksters who snort it
Soon on the skids
After the deluge
There will be no coke
The poor will be dead
And the rich will be broke

Coke is akin to a cold sore
They wanna make us their Ad Whore
“It’s better than crack”
And even more wack
Than the wackest Chunkathalon hard core

TEAM LOW DEXTERITY (Margaret Charles)

Thank you for approaching as with this mutually advantageous offer to promote your product. Wunyby both of our pudilns share a mutual desire to obtain money at the expense of others. Chopper altow lit cocola sturds bor slif aderse and achiebdyed addiction together we can (whoa, handwriting change) awaken consumersto the new order: lubricated by coke and powered by people. Here are our demands:

- the delivery of all unused cocaine from your warehouses to us (address below)
- life time supply of lube. It’s the “real thing”
- we should name it the “Coca Cola All Purpose Chopper Lube”
- Black cans with skulls adorning the sides

In conclusion, we thank you for your letter. We shall remove our chopper bikes from your meeting rooms in the morning. Your secretaries will be released come sunrise.

-Team Low Dexterity


Take the job. Be polite, concerned, and enthusiastically interested. Compliment some corporate khakis. Expand on your conversion from Pepsi to Coke. Come the day of the job, start drinking heavily and early. Gather together those members of your fleet which most threaten to implode and which have the least emotional value. Bring all your available ordinance, Saturn Missiles, Roman candles, TNT, Smell Bad.

Upon arrival, insult the nearest ad-exec thusly, "Nice pants, shit-sack.” Attempt to urinate on aforementioned khakis. Continue with genitalia exposed. Now it's time to get raw. Poop on the product. Really. Lay the "thick cable." Pull out the six-pack of Tab from 1980, which you've saved for this occasion. Pound Tab, mount up, shoot down all corporate goons in sight. Ride directly and with intention into their expensive equipment. Get injured. Say, "You better know a good lawyer, bitch." Split.

There once was a CHUNK named Spidey,
Who always liked things to be tidy.
He said with a gasp
While wiping his ass,
I really need new "tighty whities"


Dear Coca Cola,

First off we are honored that of all the activities you could expose to the masses, you are interested in our organization. We are awed by the legacy you represent. You basically invented soda, to the extent that the “industry” is referred to as the coke system. Besides being an industry leader you also make a Mighty Tasty Beverage.

I figure you are trying to follow up your successful promotion featuring Black Label (MN) tall bike jousters. Unfortunately, that club did not support the use of its resources in your campaign. The member who participated was stripped of his colors.

Our club, the Krunkatheletes, would like to meet with you to discuss our terms. Yes, we will be in your commercial. We feel it would be irresponsible to the youth of America not to. In a sea of Materialism that is Modern America, we appreciate your platform. If seeing sexy people do sexy stuff makes you want to do sexy stuff, then seeing cool people do cool stuff should inspire thusly.

Some of our peers might scoff at dealing with a Multinational Corporation; that is their right. We, however, don’t believe in the moral crux of big is bad. For example your business plan spreads wealth back to foreign markets through your independent bottling network. So more money made in country x stays in country x because the bottler is owned by a citizen of country x. Proper. You also rank in the top ten of all Fortune 500 companies in charitable donations. Thanks. In conclusion, because of you superior product, progressive business model and unprecedented opportunity to reach the Mall Rat generation, as well as your commitment to bettering the communities you do commerce in, we ACCEPT YOUR OFFER!



TEAM COCK & BALLS (Dead Baby B.C.)

Look guys, no brainer. Between Hard Times (Minneapolis) & CHUNK 666, choppers have become popular counter culture. There are a lot of large bike manufacturers/producers jumping on the bandwagon but really- it don’t mean shit. The mainstream annexation of the bicycle chopper culture can become as blown out as it can and it won’t mean shit… except that the real people will have more and different bikes to chop up and weld back together - point is – the respect, the credibility, the base value of the bike chopping fools’ whole thing is about chopping that shit up and fix it right – for you. Cause only you know what kind of bike you want to ride. Any dork can go buy a chopper at the store and go front their ass around on it, but they have no idea what the real deal is. Maybe though, for some – it would be the first step to awareness and understanding of what the core is up to. Yeah, the fringe element is the dept. store chopper bicycle – it will come and go. The core however, won’t be tainted.

On my bike I was riding toward home
When I espied a young lass all alone
“Come with this Dead Baby”
The lass declared “maybe”
As she pondered the girth of the bone

At times I ride bikes that are tall
Others, the bikes are quite small
But my bike that does swing
And is covered in bling
Is the best fuckin’ bike of ‘em all

Ah, the folks of CHUNK triple six
Some are perceived as big dicks
But what they don’t know
About the Chunkathalon show
How much ass their event kicks.


In the last five years we have noticed a discernable increase in the attention given to the bike community. Our present government personifies aspects of our culture that our community finds completely “fucking” reprehensible. An international bully-superpower fed by the oil industry bent on corporate domination, oblivious to the socially democratic foundations this country was founded on. In turn, we’ve seen police crack down on critical mass rides, and an association between the radical left and bicyclists. The only answer is to use this association to our advantage. And to do that cleverly implies a strategic approach to corporate sponsorship.

Whether a bike club such as ours, CHUNK 666 NYC, would accept any relationship with a corporation such as Coca-Cola, the answer is a resounding, unequivocal, and middle-finger-punctuated “NO.” That has a lot to do with Coca-Cola’s global position, which is not of issue here. However our club has accepted to take part in a documentary funded, in part, by Puma. We agreed to participate as long as we were not asked to promote the brand in any way – they gave us shoes that they wanted us to wear during our rides – and we agreed to wear them on the condition that we could duct tape over their logo.

It is our opinion that bike culture, especially the miraculous and beautiful nature of the mutant bike building that we’re a part of -- should be sung from the rooftops. Accepting relationships with third parties, be they corporations, sponsors, benefactors, etc. is weighted against our interest in promoting a healthy, non-consumerist-based lifestyle where humor, frivolity, and youth-oriented entertainment take the day. And or course this comes down to control of the medium. In our case we were allowed to dictate how our club, our small part of larger bike culture, was represented. With this type of relationship in place, involvement with outside parties can only prove to advance our cause beyond the borders of the neighborhoods we patrol.

There once was a young man from Kansas
Who got a hard on when he dances
So he duct-taped his cock
‘Cause he knew he would shock
But now he has no hair on his manthing

A CHUNK 666 essay,
by Megulon 5, Agent 99, Thud, and Silken.


In questioning the future of any bicycle community (neighborhood, national or global) it is impossible to posit a community separate from a component atmosphere of “fun”, “partying”, and “radicality”, (Which will henceforth be referred to as the Wide Band Chunkulation Field, or WBCF). Any bike community stripped of the WBCF will first wither, then, as it chokes toward death, thrust forth a blossom of the purest Wide Band Chunkulation Field that will bolster that community anew and create again the elegant synthesis of earnest biking and unencumbered hilarity and fraternity, know to us as the WBCF. What follows is a chronological exploration - based on evidence drawn from four experts in the field - of exactly how this separation and recombination can, have, and always will function.

Without the guidance and inspiration of mutant bike clubs, the communities of the world (and nations) will first face a cultural impoverishment. They will devolve into boring utilitarian movements and groups of commuters passing each other on the bridge.

Luckily this depressing state will soon be rectified with a re-blossoming of the mutant bike movements nation- and world-wide. The freak bike impetus can not be suppressed. We can see this today, all across the nation. Witness clubs in the following extremely boring cities and countries: Rat Patrol (Chicago), MC3 (Canada), Black Label (New York), SCUL (Boston), etc.

Finally, once the mutant bike groundwork has been established, our guardians from the future will re-initiate contact, whether we are aware of this guidance or not, the bridge of the WBCF will again be built, and it is this bridge which will carry us through the imminent apocalypse.

In short, there is no culture without mutant bike culture.