A May 18 article reported “Charges filed against 170 motorcycle gang members in Texas.” Ah, yes, biker gangs. Some say it can’t be helped, for boys will be boys. As they have not the alibi of innocence, I say: idiots will be idiots.
Although they look like grown men, they manifest such degree of arrested development, such level of retarded maturity, such proclivity of living in a fantasy, they are in every other way like children playing territory games while wearing costumes in a giant sandbox. It is a place — unlike the real world — where they can play the part of someone worthy of respect; someone of gravity, replete with substance worthy of admiration.
They intimidate, are sloven, rough, unclean, and smell like it. They wear leather boots, a labeled vest and ride a noisy motorcycle, pretending to be independent while depending on the features of the world they have denounced and castigated.
Freedom from the interference of their lifestyle is their mantra. Freedom from the interference to engage in crimes, indulge in drugs, debauchery, and pillaging. Freedom from the enemy that has provided everything they own and eat.
