Brakes, ears

Last week I got the brakes on my bicycle fixed. They had become soft and spongy, and when I wanted to stop I merely slowed down, which could be rather surprising when I was approaching a red light at a busy intersection. And when you are gliding down the slope under the railway station, which has metal bars to slow cyclists down (although it would be MUCH more fun to speed up, to make up for having to push your bike up the other side), and you are heading for the metal bar faster than you intended to and cannot swerve because someone else is coming up through the way-too-small gap between the bars, you do not just want to slow down. You want to stop.

That hurt a bit, and was what made me decide to get my brakes fixed.

Since I got my brakes fixed, I have become more than ever convinced that there is no such thing as Intelligent Design. If we were intelligently designed, we would be able to close our ears and still keep both hands free for the brakes. New bicycle brakes squeal, and I am not talking about a timid, mouse-like squeak. I am talking about a squeal that actually hurts your ears and makes you scrunch up your face in pain. Nobody should have to listen to what sounds like a pig being castrated every time they want to avoid crashing into something hard.

If ears were intelligently designed there would be a mute button.