Jeremy Lawjohn – Britain’s Most Rightwing Columnist: Cyclists

I don’t like jihadists. Or race hate preachers. Or serial killers.  But I tell you who I really hate – cyclists.  With their smugness. And their lycra. And their bikes. They are not a sport. They are a tribe.  It’s a way of life. They are vegans. And peaceniks. And communists. And they vote Labour. I know they do. All of them. Even though the three most famous cycling politicians in the country are Boris Johnson, David Cameron and Andrew Mitchell.

I hate them with their little GoPro cameras in order that they can go bleating to Youtube when a car gives them a tiny nudge.  But cyclists – live with it.  Roads are for cars. Cycle lanes are for cycles. And if a cycle lane mysteriously runs out for no reason – that’s not the motorists’ problem. Go bleating to the Council – don’t go smacking the side of cars because a car didn’t cross the middle white line into oncoming traffic just because you were chatting two abreast to your lycra lover whilst trying to emulate Bradley Wiggins and not paying proper attention.  He got knocked off his bike. Probably deserved it. What was he doing at a garage? Trying to fill up his bike with petrol?  Of course, we don’t know whether he deserved it or not because there wasn’t a GoPro on the side of the car – but are we going to have to get GoPros on cars now to keep an eye on punchy cyclists? How would you like it if I leant out and slapped your bike when you clip my car? What happens when cyclists ride on pavements? I think pedestrians should be able to slap them.  But don’t slap them too hard, because if they are frightened of cycling on the pavements, they’ll come back on the roads.

There are plenty of examples of cyclists killing pedestrians on the pavement. I haven’t bothered to find any. But there are loads. Obviously not as many as cyclists killed by motor vehicles but I’m not interested in that. Probably some cyclists deserved to die. You’re driving along – the cyclists don’t keep into the kerb and so it takes forever to get round them – then you get past them and you breathe a sigh of relief – then you come to a traffic light – they catch up and come directly in front of you – and you’ve got to get past them all over again. I can imagine if you come to enough traffic lights in quick succession you might be tempted to set off from the lights as amber comes on – just to give them a little warning shunt not to go in front for the eighth time. And if they do come off their bikes and bang their heads – that’s their fault. Shouldn’t have helmets with gaps in.  Are they only trying to protect every other inch of their heads? I tell you if I were a cyclist I wouldn’t be seen dead in one of those helmets. I’d rather get brain-damaged. Which I am.

I tell you, you’d have to be brain-damaged to wear all that coloured lycra.  Most of them have not got bodies that suit streamlining. I’ve seen cyclists in lycra that have made me physically unwell. Deserved to be knocked off – difficult to control a vehicle whilst looking at that.  You are not supposed to shove a sack of potatoes into lycra.  These people would not be streamlined if they got sucked into a sewer pipe. Which is what should happen to them. Them and their lycra. And their saddles. And their bells.  What sort of audible warning noise is that? *Ting a ling*. “I say you are about to kill me”.  *Ting a ling*. Women cyclists are apparently more likely to be killed than male cyclists because male cyclists are more likely to shout at the driver and let him know they are there. In which case, instead of having a bell that goes ‘ting-a-ling’ – why not have one that shouts ‘oi! – oi!– oi!” ? Or one that swears? The tourettes bell. “Oi – oi! – oi! – *£@% off”. That might do some good for the lady cyclists. And I’d find it quite sexual.

Of course, Raleigh was a great British bike company. I liked Raleigh. Made in Nottingham since 1887. No longer. Now owned by the Germans.  What have the Germans ever given us? Shepherd dogs and measles. Not that you can say German measles anymore – you’ve got to say rubella – it’s political correctness gone mad. We’ll have to say Aids next instead of gay plague.

But I’ve bought myself a bike. Only because these stupid drink driving laws mean you can’t drive pissed now – but any freak on a two-wheeler can be off his noddle on pills.  And when I ride that bike, I shall have a sign on my back saying “Motorists. Thankyou for letting me use your roads”.  And if you see me cycling, knock me off – it’s what I would have wanted.