It is a review of the book Superbikes of the Seventies on the Amazon website.
The reviewer calls himself The Highwayman and it is the only review he has.
"Motorcyclists are known by the machines they ride. And men are known by the company they keep.
These veritable truths account for why Harley men keep to their own kind on the open road. Whether on reconnaissance in local territories, carrying the flag from coast to coast in a well-regulated convoy or striking a daring posse deep into the uncharted badlands, Harley men place their trust and confidence in other men of robust character and proven substance. Men who can be counted on through good times and bad. Men who never surrender, and don't take prisoners. Stout and hearty men who sit proud and righteous in the saddle. Men who make up the Harley-Davidson brethren.
There's no place here for anyone looking for a false way in and an easy way out. There's no place for men or bikes that by artifice are here today but by expediency will be gone tomorrow. There's no place for those who pledge allegiance to far-eastern feudalism by riding Asian atrocity cycles slammed together in some godforsaken land. There's no place for the sniveling lisp and depraved cowardice of atrociteurs who would make a slobbering mockery of real American motorcycling.
That leaves the atrociteurs off on their own, with a facade of pose and pretense, and a despair of resentment and bitterness. Taking the badges of vulgarity off their throwaway contraptions out of shame, but leaving a space as blank as their empty souls. Carrying on with a sham travesty of brotherhood that's nothing but a hollow charade. Pretending to be the real deal but fooling nobody.
Not ordinary American folk, who are comforted that all is well on the home front only when they see genuine Harleys lead their Fourth of July parades down the Main Streets of America. Not womenfolk, who by intuition know the deep rumble of the mighty Big Twin as the unmistakable confirmation that real men are in command of the nation's destiny. Not even youngsters, who have a keen sense of authentic role models and clearly know the difference between a real American motorcycle and some knock-off in tin and plastic.
There's a fork early on in the road for every motorcyclist in America, with paths going off in opposite directions. A life membership in the brotherhood of righteousness is part of the authentic Harley-Davidson experience. A life sentence among the damned is reserved for the atrociteurs.
Choose carefully, `cause there's no turnin' back.
_______________________________
They call me . . . The Highwayman"
No comments:
Post a Comment