Arms a little stiff... can't quite raise them above head...

By now, you've surely heard about Eric Barone's new world record for, um, riding a bike down a ski slope. (This might be one  of those records where, like, no one else is actually interested in challenging Mssr. Barone.)  In his funky chicken suit, he reached 138 miles per hour on a custom built low rider in late March.  Most impressive to know -- but most unimpressive to experience via the magic of YouTube -- is the fact that he pretty much stayed upright and on a straight line, walkie-talkies chirped, people cheered, and cocktails were drunk. Of course, anyone who's ever reached say the mid-60s MPH on a bike with 1/2 inch wide tires can feel a twinge of empathetic horror.  It takes nerves of steel, and after Barone's famous rag-doll act trying to speed down the side of a South American volcano a few years ago, we certainly do raise our glass to the man, the bike, the chickensuit, and all those wonderful French supporters. But that existential quandry remains: Why? Seriously. Just why?