Calling us is great too because we WANT to really hear you and this way we can really do that. We love inflection, subtlety, tone, all of it. Pre-emoji vibes are the best. Feel free to ramble. FTR, we may (and probably will) publish your VM if it’s good. So make it good!
*Made with Performance Journalism™ 📹Cultural anthropology 🌐Discovery 📣PSA 👬Experiencing
Performance Journalism™ about the culture of Bicycles, Sport and Other. YP = YJ + MFS + 🚲 + 😜 X PJ™
More than reliable transportation or a destination or extensive provisioning, any Performance Journalist™ worth their salt requires for success in any endeavor or pursuit only a quality Wool Blanket. Wool blankets can be fashioned into a jacket, as in a capote, or a cloak or cape. They can be used to wrap and therefore protect your valuables during travel as well as camouflage said valuables regrettably but necessarily left overnight in a car in a dimly lit motel parking lot. In place of an otherwise useless cotton towel pre-and-post hot spring, swim hole, hobo slap, etc. As a bedroll, a napkin (albeit an oversized napkin), a pillow, a sack or makeshift bag, a brightly colored and nicely delineated picnic or lunch spot, for love-making, in defense against nearly feral or overly habituated animals, a lightweight saddle alternative, fire containment and for bivouacking and/or enhancing an otherwise primitive shelter. For wound care and poultices. Protection against the elements like dust, wind, direct sunlight, etc., as well as volatile and/or tempestuous weather. Insulation be it fixed, semi-permanent or temporary. To appear Period Correct if which period is the whole of the 1800s. A blanket and/or ad-hoc burrito-style mummy bag. And finally, if need be, they can be soaked in various nutrients, broths, herbs and tinctures for later oral or topical application.
Daniel PasleyFounder, Editor, Contributor, Blogger
Kevin BrownPublisher, Web Editor, Interneter
Justin BalogCinematographer, Video Editor
Steve HockettIllustrator, Animator, UK Section Chief
THE SPECTACLE OF ROAD RACING→ Professional 🚴🏼♂️ is the finest, most beautiful, most relevant sport in the world and for many that’s as complicated and/or nuanced as the whole thing needs to get. But for us, for MFS, racing is more profound and, frankly, more interesting than a simple display of competition and speed. In service to this core belief which, here and now, we submit as a Universal Truth, we created an episodic multimedia documentary and contemporary study exalting Road Cycling for ALL that it is: ✨The ✨Greatest ✨Spectacle ✨On ✨Earth ✨
EXPLORATION, ENGAGEMENT, EDUCATION→ In partnership with NASA and the US Military this a reboot of Lewis & Clark. Our mandate: Explore, Engage, Educate. Our POV? Our modus operandi? Our raison d'être? D-i-s-c-o-v-e-r-y, discovery. From pseudo anthropology, interpretive cartography, field observations, illustrations, typologies, catalogs, terrestrial vs. galactic and bicycle-/non-bicycle-based adventure to Shackleton, Darwin, Captain Cook, we are the Corps of Discovery. 🌕🚀🚁🚲🛶🌍
THE CULTURAL ANTHROPOLOGY OF OTHER→ We are Cultural Anthropologists and Sportsmen compelled into the Wilderness to explore, document and publish a lasting and meaningful record of our experiences there. Through a collection of fictional and non-fictional multimedia we endeavor to understand and relate those people, places and pursuits the purview of Yonder. What is our purview? All things other. ///// Edges, Frontiers and Margins. Nerds & Warriors. The DTF. The Salty. W E 💖 O T H E R.
Dear Track & Field; The Sport, the Institution, the Legacy, the Whole Shebang,
We are writing to inform you that we accept your challenge. It’s been three months since we last spoke, since you rebuked us so. We’re sure you thought you were done with us. That we were gone, never to return, never to request admittance or access ever again. And it makes sense, I mean, you were an asshole to us. Not even an exciting asshole—you know, hot sex in a public bathroom, high-risk transmissions, cold-hot-cold-hot-cold,make us pay all of the rent because you spent your “paycheck” on some horse to share with Dusty and the gang in our living roomkind of an asshole. First of all, it’s MY LIVING ROOM. And second of all, nope. You were just like a reg old boring-ass chino-wearing boring-as-fuck Enterprise Rent-a-Car counter jockey having a rough hump day kind of an asshole. You know, blue shirt, special sauce stain on the tie, a name like Brad. Anyway, the point is you figured, clearly, that Yonder Journal would fail (by every definition of the word) so completely at the Track & Field game that we’d throw the towel in after our first foray into the sport. We figure it goes something like this:
You hate yourself. You have low self esteem. You hate the future. You hate new things and new ideas. You’re basically Puritanism in the form of a sport.
You’ve got something good—and I mean really good—something the world needs and wants, something uplifting, emotive and powerful, you hold in your boring little hands the seed from which all of sport, ALL OF IT, every discipline, ALL OF IT, was born. And you don’t want to share it. You are a petulant child.
We don’t know why. Probably your parents never hugged you. It’s not our problem. Moving on.
Not only do you not want exposure and success, you fear it like the enemy at your gates.
You tolerate the Olympics. But really you wish that would go away, too.
You covet Track & Field so much, to such a degree, that you mean to snuff it out.
And so you see us as a threat. You see what we see. You know Track & Field is ripe. Ready to bloom. To show itself. To reach its full potential!!! And with our help, you fear, it just might.
So you planned for us a bad foray. You endeavored to make our foray suck.