Determinism

Gaius listened. Sweezus was sucking up to Camus.

Wow! Sweezus was saying. Wow! You were in the Second World WAR! That's so cool!

Yes, said Camus. It was in occupied France. I edited the underground newspaper Combat. Of course not many people knew it was me until after the war, but then I became quite a hero.

Oh AWESOME! said Sweezus.

I'm going to buy myself a pie, said Gaius. See you later.

See ya, said Sweezus, and turned back to Camus.

It must have been brilliant back then, he said.

It had its moments, said Camus. In fact my article for Velosophy is about one of those moments.

Tell me, said Sweezus.

You might pinch it, said Camus. You haven't done yours.

I promise I won't, said Sweezus. Go on.

Alright, said Camus. True story. We're in hiding with false ID papers. We get news of the Allied advance. We're returning to Paris on three bicycles. Pierre, Janine, Michel and me.

That's not enough bicycles, said Sweezus.

Exactly, said Camus. So we have to take turns donkeying Janine. But they let me off my turn because I have TB.

What's THAT? asked Sweezus. TB?

It's a disease, said Camus.

Is that what you die of? asked Sweezus.

No, said Camus. I die of something else. Anyway, on the way back to Paris we see planes diving and dropping bombs, we see Germans sheltering in the woods. We keep going, stupidly believing the bombs aren't meant for us.

Oh WOW! said Sweezus. But you were right, they weren't meant for you.

But they still could have killed us, said Camus.

If something's meant to kill you, said Sweezus, it does.

I know, said Camus.

The Champs Elysees

It's true. Cadel Evans has won the Tour de France. Now everyone can go home. But they don't all want to.

Sweezus: Paris is so beautiful. I don't want to go home.

Marie: We're going shopping on the Champs Elysees. Come with us.

Sweezus: Shopping!

Belle et Bonne: We're going to a famous shop called Laduree, to buy macarons and chocolates.

Sweezus: Awesome! What are macarons?

.......

The VeloDrone, Le Bon David and Farky are saying goodbye to Gustave, Gaius and Violetta.

The VeloDrone: Well goodbye, you three. Perhaps we shall we meet again.

Gustave: Perhaps. After all, we have much in common.

The VeloDrone: We all performed rather badly in the Tour de France, if that's what you mean.

Violetta: Speak for yourself. I performed rather well. So did Farky.

Farky: I won Most Aggressive Dog.

Gaius: And I did well in the individual time trials, even though the mints were just mints.

The VeloDrone: Alright alright, but next year we will have to try harder. And now, David and I must get home to our magazine. We haven't published anything for three weeks.

Violetta: What magazine?

The VeloDrone: Oh, nothing worth mentioning....

Le Bon David: It's a magazine about cycling and philosophy. We invite philosophers to write articles for it.

The VeloDrone ( loudly) : La la la! La la la!

Gustave: That is interesting. Perhaps you would consider inviting me. I like to think I am something of a philosopher.

Gaius: And me.

Violetta: And me.

The VeloDrone: Well, umm, surely you are all too busy.....

Violetta: Oh no, we're not busy at all.

Stage 21: Creteil to Paris Champs Elysees

At last the Tour is virtually over and Cadel Evans has virtually won the race. All he has to do today is remain on his bicycle until the finish line in Paris, which he is confident of doing. Gaius, however, in spite of doing extremely well in the time trials yesterday, is feeling anything but confident today.

The VeloDrone: What's wrong old chap? You look a little green.

Le Bon David: That will be the mints.

The VeloDrone: Mints?

Gustave: Mints? What's this about mints?

Gaius: Violetta's mints. They made me go faster. But I improved so much yesterday I was selected for a spot drug test.

Violetta catches up to the group.

Violetta: What's this? A spot drug test, Gaius. You aren't worried are you?

Gaius: Of course I am. I might be disqualified because of you.

Violetta: Why does nobody trust me? They were just freaking MINTS! They'll find nothing but pure minted pee.

.......

Sweezus is riding near the back of the peloton with Farky. Belle et Bonne and Marie are riding beside them on their hired motorcycle.

Belle et Bonne: Cheer up Sweezie! Don't look so grim.

Sweezus: It's just that I'm so disappointed.

Marie: But it was your first Tour de France. You've done well just to finish.

Farky: So have I.

Belle et Bonne: You certainy have, Farky dear. Would you like some chocolate?

Farky: No.

Sweezus: I will, thanks. And have you got any champagne?

Marie: No we haven't. The race isn't actually over. Have a sports drink instead.

Sweezus: Have you got any mints? Gaius has been boasting about how they make him go faster.

Belle et Bonne: Mints, eh? Were they Violetta's? That man will get himself disqualified.

Sweezus: No, no. They're just mints. But he believes in them, that's what makes him go faster. Violetta is clever that way.

Marie: Huh.

Belle et Bonne: Huh.

Farky: Heh heh!

Easy Beats

Gustave was not without influence in Paris. In a matter of hours Team Bumptious found itself booked on a flight to France, flying business class, with their bicycles professionally packed.

Now Violetta, said Gustave. I trust you will not be bringing your paints.

Yes, said Violetta.

Gustave left it at that.

The VeloDrone too was not without influence. He had secured a free flight for Team Philosophe including four bicycles on the same plane as Team Bumptious.

There was a tricky moment at the boarding gate when it was noticed that one of the team members was a dog.

May I see your ticket? asked the flight attendant.

Certainly, said Farky, showing his ticket, and a letter from Nicholas Sarkozy.

Welcome aboard, Mr MacTaggart, said the flight attendant. I hope you enjoy your flight.

Look over there, whispered Sweezus. Who's that?

Where? said Farky, looking around.

There, said Sweezus. Fat man with the mo, with the skinny guy in the toga and the woman with the massive bag.

I know who that is, said Le Bon David. That's Gustave Flaubert, the well-known writer. And that's his team, Team Bumptious. They're riding in the Tour.

They look like easy beats, said Sweezus.

Don't underestimate them, said The VeloDrone.

Les Champs

The final day of the Tour de France! Team Philosophe is riding towards Paris and drinking champagne from plastic flutes.

The VeloDone: Ah Paris! At last! I was born here, you know.

Jean Paul Sartre: So was I. And so was Simone.

Le Bon David : Not me. I was born in Edinburgh.

The VeloDrone: I sometimes forget. But you are an honorary Frenchman.

Le Bon David: Thank you. Oh I am glad the Tour is over. Will we three be in it next year? What do you think?

Jean Paul Sartre: I am negotiating to get back with Team Existentialiste.

The VeloDrone: Oh?

Jean Paul Sartre: 'Fraid so. I am more in tune with their mode of thinking.

Le Bon David: Haven't we got on alright?

Jean Paul Sartre: You called me a weasel.

Le Bon David: That was in the heat of the moment, when you were being a weasel.

The VeloDrone: It doesn't matter. We are negotiating too, Jean Paul.

Jean Paul Sartre: Oh, who with?

Le Bon David: Yes, who with?

The VeloDrone: You know, David. It is someone much younger.

Jean Paul Sartre: Wittgenstein?

Le Bon David: Younger.

Jean Paul Sartre: Who then?

The VeloDrone: It's Alain de Botton.

Jean Paul Sartre: What has he got to offer?

The VeloDrone: Don't you know? He's a sprinter.

Freud's Granddaughter's Bicycle

Oh look! said Pliny the Elder. Here's the latest edition of Velosophy! I wonder what it will be about today?

So do I, I said. Why don't you read it out to me?

Alright, said Pliny. I will. And he began to read:

Comrade Velosophers! The VeloDrone and I are pleased to bring you the second in a series of articles by the esteemed Professor Freud! He has once again produced something that we are sure will surprise and delight you. You may think it has little to do with philosophy. We beg you not to judge too hastily. We are of the opinion that philosophy encompasses nearly everything, especially if there is a bicycle in it. Please enjoy:

Hmmph! said Pliny. This sounds as if it might not be any good!

Go ahead and read it, I urged. We ought to trust the editors.

So Pliny read on:

Dear readers, I have a little tale to tell, about my granddaughter Sophie and her bicycle. I learned this story on reading her recently published book, 'Living in the shadow of the Freud family'. I had no idea about it at the time, which was in 1938, the year before my death, for I was not then living in Paris.

Sophie and her mother were living in Paris however. They had moved there from Austria which was no longer a safe place for Jews. Sophie was 14 years old , and attended the Lycee Jean de la Fontaine, in Passy, about 8 miles from their flat. She was supposed to catch a bus to school, but preferred to ride her bicycle, although her mother had forbidden it. She used her bus money to keep her bicycle safe in a garage while she was at school.

But soon, the Paris authorities introduced a bicycle tax. Every bicycle was to display a metal plaque costing 200 francs. Sophie had no way of getting 200 francs. She had no pocket money and didn't know the neighbours well at all. So she stole 200 francs from he mother's purse and bought the metal plaque and all was well until her mother confronted her about the missing money.

She asked Sophie if she had taken it. Sophie was afraid she was going to face a dreadful punishment, but she admitted that she had. To her surprise her mother did not even ask her why she had needed the money. She merely observed that next time she needed money she should ask for it. Sophie thought that perhaps her mother was remembering how hard it had been to get things from her husband, from whom she was separated.

Pliny stopped reading. He appeared to have a tear in his eye.

Oh, Pliny, I said. That was a lovely story. You liked it, didn't you?

I did, said he. There is much wisdom in it.

Rousseau's Modest Proposal

Hello fellow Velocipedallers! Le Bon David here ! I have a treat for you today, a special article by our old friend Jean-Jacques Rousseau. He seems to have got a new bee in his bonnet about the treatment of bicycles. I hope you enjoy it.

:::::::::

Citizens, you thought you had heard the last of Jean-Jacques Rousseau! But no! I am here to tell you what is wrong with the bicycle riders of today !

Recently I was in Paris. I looked around me. Everywhere I saw the most shameful sights. Bicycles, beautiful bicycles, chained up to posts and railings, and left to fend for themselves! The owners were goodness knows where, in cafes perhaps, at school, in the shops, who can say? The bicycles were left entirely without direction. They lolled, they turned their handlebars inwards, they drooped. In short, they were neglected.

Everything degenerates in the hands of man. And the same is true of our friend the bicycle! It is time for a radical change. Modern bicycles being made of metal, their owners think they can stand up for themselves. This is what leads to the most extreme neglect. I propose that henceforth all bicycles should be made of WOOD.

Do not laugh, citizens! The people of Brazil and East Africa already use wooden bicycles. And never do they chain them up to posts and railings. There is no need! If the bicycles are a little heavier and travel more slowly, who will argue that is a bad thing? I challenge you all to make the move to wooden wheels today. Let us see no more metal bicycles in degrading chains!