"An outlaw motorcycle club (sometimes known as a motorcycle gang) is a motorcycle subculture which has its roots in the immediately post-World War II era of American society. It is generally centered around the use of cruiser motorcycles, particularly Harley-Davidsons and choppers, and a set of ideals which celebrate freedom, nonconformity to mainstream culture and loyalty to the biker group."
When we read the above definition (from wikipedia) use your imagination... Do you see "Sons of Anarchy?" You should. You will after reading this post. Disclaimer: If you're a loyal SOA fan, I validate you. And, you must need "validation" of some sort, otherwise you wouldn't be a loyal SOA fan. If you "Hate" the show with a passion, this post will remove and doubt you might have remaining that you need to come out of the closet. And if you're on the fence, you probably aren't paying attention anyway and simply browse the Lady Hump while wasting time at work or ignoring your family and/or responsibilities as a short form of escape. Similar to fast food; it's not healthy for you but you've trained your taste-buds to desire fat. You're a Fatty.
"There's no pictures in this thread? Why not?"
Sons of Anarchy has provided the re-written historical definition of what a "real" (or "reality") OMG is. They have everything you've ever heard of surrounding real motorcycle gangs, they even claim they aren't a gang. So I'll simply (going forward) refer to them as the "SOA" out of respect for the Club. Word. But, they're a gang, that's part of the lure. The television hooks you into the characters like all successful shows do, and we all know that good girls are attracted to "bad guys" if not in reality, certinally those on "reality t.v." Grandma may have been addicted to "Highway to Heaven" but you (the near-middle aged SOA watcher) watched "Saved by the Bell" through high school and then "Cheers", and then when you got married had to sit through "Friends" with your wife and her co-workers during the weekly wine tasting parties. You wore the shirt she picked out for you. The pastel polo, you Nancy. That divorce couldn't have come any sooner. Next time you get around to it, call the rich guy she ended up cheating with and thank him for lifting your "beast of burden." He'll probably not understand it, but it'll be refreshing to get it off your chest and out into the open like biting into a Peppermint Patty.
Then you bought your first motorcycle. It was a Metric Cruiser. And for about two and a half days you were on top of the world. But within a month, you either sold it, garaged it, or "upgraded it" to a Harley Davidson. Probably a Sportster at first, but then either a base model Dyna (but probably a Soft tail of some sort). Now you're Michael Jackson in the video for "Bad." You know it. You never really thought about the open road. Owning had it's singularity reward for you. Congratulations. You're the perfect Harley Davidson motorcycle rider. Not a biker. But close. Close enough to see the similarity on television. When you hear the first line of "Riding through this world..." and catchy country guitar plucking, you get a mental boner.
SOA has it all. Cool intro song. Structure (lacking in your life) in the form of a President, VP, members. The "risk taking" (read: pretending to be criminals on television) biker culture. The Brotherhood, the patches are so cool, the life-style. They bang chicks, make pornos, get in gun fights (you were good at Nintendo so you know how exciting a real gun fight can be). The fact that you turn over every morning and get out of bed to go stand in the unemployment line or wash your tears away in the bottom of a bottle, wash dishes, or file papers in a gneneric office somewhere over insurance regulations or medical claims, it's all relative. Your co-workers are zombiefied hideously boring creatures compared to the cast of your favorite show. SOA offers a never ending bottle to suckle from the security of your couch. You're now living the dream in HD, right in your own front room. In your underwear! You might even wear support wear to identify yourself as a fan. Other fans recognize you and respond to your wardrobe like asians at a cosplay convention. Hell, that's what real "supporters" do, isn't it? Join a riders club and feel the brotherhood... nope. Maybe when this seasons over? "That patch would be nice, but there's probably too much riding involved." SOA literally has everything every "club" has ever wanted. And it's yours. You didn't even have to prospect. For the small fee of the monthly cable bill. And you probably steal that from the neighbors if you live in an apartment complex. Hell, that's outlaw. Because you're the outlaw. The Couch Outlaw. (It also helps if the couch is leather... believe me you).
I'm not making fun of you. I'm pointing out the obvious. You should have stuck with the Sportster, but that's another story altogether. You have to destroy the television immediately. But agian, your addiction prevents your liberation. Like kids raised in the ghetto, there's always a little bit of ghetto left in them. You know. You know you know. I'm not making fun of SOA (this time...) they've hit the nail on the head of the Golden Goose and he crapped out a dozen eggs filled with rich buttery molten golden goop. Rub it all over your hot naked body Kurt, you've earned it. Your show, stands alone as being the one show that captivated and captured the "biker" world in a nut shell. I still think it's funny when gay actors portray straight people, excuse me, "bikers." But whateva'
"Wait. I still don't understand why there isn't any photos in this post?"