"It's all wrong..." you mumble as you slothfully lay your head against the summer-soft pavement, "It's all gone doo-doo poopiekins." Another bicycle lands upon your body softly like a Bounty-fresh spring sheet fluttering in the breeze down upon your weary body. "They can't even give a decent gang-land beating anymore. Such weak throws!" You roll over face-down against the freshly laid asphalt, warm, it melts into your face. "All this anti-bullying nonsense, when I was a child, we abided by the law of the school-yard. None of this zero tolerance pansy fertilizer. If someone pissed you off, you shoved them down and pissed in their face. The teachers turned their backs and kept smoking, this is the way Great God intended us to be raised!" Your fist shoots up into the air, your voice begins to mount in amplitude. "Only the strongest survived, and the weak licked their wounds and either hit the bench-press in motivated outrage, or fell in line as a will-less underling as nature intended! These were the rules! This was the way we were raised!" You triumphantly take to your feet, voice now resounding like the brilliant god of reason you are, lost in an insane age. "Now you can't even fucking touch another student, let alone hurt their precious feelings, and THIS is what we are left with! A bike gang that can't even take down one single, pathetic, basement dwelling loser... ENOUGH I SAY!" You grab a front tire and swing the bicycle in a magnificent arc at the conclusion of your diatribe, filled with all the righteous indignation your speech aroused in you, a perfect congruence of force and passion, the heads of the entire bike gang pop off at the slice of a broken spoke in a Euclidean arc of spurting blood. Oh the majesty! Point proven hero..... society is saved.