Something about this time of year really gives me the shits. Maybe it’s the throngs of vacant suburban nobodies click-clacking their way around the city in their post-Flemington, post credit-splurge afterglow. Maybe it’s the pre-emptive noel of tawdry Christmas consumer beacons enticing us to invest in the true spirit of Christmas - shopping. Maybe it’s the fact that Myer shut down their perfectly busy and functional food court to re-open a full square kilometre of food available only in hamper form, a year’s worth of landfill for each redundant staff member. Where am i going to get my nuts now? Luckily, some distractions are in place to keep me from hitting the streets with a megaphone and dressing down anyone in my path. Like the fast approaching Bicycle Film Festival. Future proof your ass. Get on a bike.