If Thanksgiving is proof that America is a nation with the ability to be generous, the day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday, is proof that we believe in moral balance. That is, a day of morality must immediately be followed by a day of immorality. If we donate turkeys and work in a soup kitchen on Thursday, we need a Friday of trampling and pepper spraying our fellow citizens, just to get back to normal. Whew! All that gratitidue made me feel nauseatingly humane until I whipped out my Tornado 5 and unleashed a spritz of hell into rival shoppers' eyes and nostrils.
Another ritual of moral equilibrium common in America comes about as a way of balancing holy matrimony. In this case, brides anticipate the moral goodness of the wedding day, and balance that morally sanctified day with a day of dress shopping. Brides typically gather a scurvy band of rogues about them and pep them up with drugs and promises of cupcakes. These bands can be identified by their apparel: garish printed T-shirts which may or may not express bridal information (e.g., SIZE 12, BUDGET: $1,000, SLEEVELESS SKINSUIT,VEILS ARE FOR VIRGINS).
The action heats up even before the doors of the boutique open as brigand bands deploy their stouter members to the scrum, locking elbows and practicing their trampling formations. For many effete teams, their day is already done, lacking the brawn to maintain a defensive perimeter against the more husky bridal parties. Then the doors open, and events unfold as shown below in this stock police footage:
Several things to notice:
(1) A bride-to-be is about to be trampled in the first photo. This is fairly common; the bodies of the weak are tossed aside, or piled high to form defensive walls, as at Thermopoylae.
(2) A bride-to-be in the second photo, grunting and clutching a dress in a display of territorial marking, exhibits a white foam around her mouth.
(3) A bridal team, pepped up on cupcakes and krunk juice shows typical amoral disregard for human decency in their savage attire, having devoured bunny rabbits and now sporting the gory rabbit ears as trophies--a warning to would-be dress rivals.
Such morally repugnant mob events--runnings, as they are called--occur around the world. In Kazakhstan, there is the running of the Jews:
In California, there is the running of the lifeguards:
And in Belgium, there is the running of the road racers participating in Tom Boonen's charity cyclocross race:
Thus do our heroes expunge the glory and goodness of a road season with the perversions of cyclocross. Thus do our gods reveal their tainted chamoises. Thus does the cycling world find its moral equilibrium.