The Flood of Firmware: Why the Update Demandeth Thy Patience
Opening Scripture
From The Epistle to the Chargers, Chapter 9, Verses 1–8
And it came to pass that the App did open, and lo, it spake: “Update Available.”
And the rider’s heart did sink into his shoes, for he had places to be.
The Progress Bar rose like a flood, slow and unstoppable.
And the Wi-Fi was weak in the land, and buffering was upon the people.
Blessed are they who wait and do not mash the button, for their board shall not entereth Boot Loop.
Woe unto the impatient, who restarteth mid-install, for they shall walk as the ancients walked.
For firmware is the unseen law of the Round: merciful when obeyed, petty when ignored.
Therefore be still, and let the update finish, that thy carve may be smooth upon the earth.
I. The Waters Rise: When the App Declares “Update Available”
Wheelievers, there are two kinds of days: the day you ride, and the day the App decides you shall reflect.
You open thy phone with joy, expecting speed, expecting carve, expecting the sacred hum. And the App, cold as a parking garage breeze, looks you in the soul and whispers: “Firmware Update Required.” Not suggested. Not optional. Required. Like taxes. Like helmets. Like pretending you “meant to do that” after a speed wobble.
This is the Flood of Firmware. It is not made of water. It is made of progress bars and release notes written in tongues. And just like the ancient flood, it arrives at the worst possible time: right when you are late, under-caffeinated, and already standing on the footpad like a man about to announce, “I have this totally under control.”
Hear me: firmware is the invisible scripture of the Round. It decides what pushback feels like. It decides how battery sag delivers its sermon. It decides whether your headlamp shines with confidence or flickers like a haunted porch light.
And wheelievers, firmware does not care that you checked your PSI. Firmware does not care that you “only need to go two miles.” Firmware cares about one thing: obedience… and a stable Wi-Fi connection.
II. The Trial of the Progress Bar: Patience, Panic, and the Holy Thumb
Let us speak plainly. The Progress Bar is a spiritual teacher with no bedside manner.
It crawleth from 1% to 2% like a snail performing penance. It pauses at 17% to make you question your life choices. It leaps from 48% to 49% just to prove it can, and then it stops again to humble you. This is not technology. This is discipleship.
Some wheelievers, when faced with this trial, begin bargaining. “O Round,” they say, “I shall never complain about pushback again, just let it install faster.” Others attempt the forbidden ritual: closing the App and reopening it, as if the firmware can be startled into completion. Wheelievers… do not threaten the gods with a refresh.
And now, the sacred call-and-response, so the congregation may survive:
Leader: When the progress bar doth freeze at 99%
Wheelievers: WE SHALL NOT PANIC-SWIPE.
Leader: When the App commandeth ‘Do Not Power Off’
Wheelievers: WE SHALL OBEY, EVEN IF OUR SOUL SCREAMETH.
Leader: When Bluetooth pairing faileth thrice
Wheelievers: WE SHALL MOVE THREE FEET CLOSER TO THE ROUTER LIKE THE FAITHFUL.
YES. Let patience be louder than anxiety. For range anxiety can make a person do unholy things… like starting an update at 12% battery and calling it “confidence.”
III. Commandments of the Update (And the Parable of Brother Chadriel’s Parking Lot)
Wheelievers, receive now the laws of the Flood, etched into the sacred grip tape of wisdom:
Thou Shalt Not Begineth an Update on 1% Battery, For That Is Not Faith. That Is DELUSION.
Thou Shalt Not Update Three Minutes Before Thy Commute, For That Is Summoning Trouble With Both Hands.
Thou Shalt Not Kick the Tire and Call It Diagnostics.
And hear the blessings as well:
Blessed are the cautious, for their board shall not reboot in public.
Blessed be the regen braking, for it remindeth the rider that slowing down can be holy.
Blessed be the fender, for it concealeth the mud of shame when thou must walk.
Now, a parable from The Book of Bearings, as told by elders who have felt embarrassment in the bones.
There was a disciple named Brother Chadriel, who loved the Round, but loved being “on time” more. One morning he stood in the office parking lot, helmet strapped, stance ready, feeling like a prophet. He opened the App and beheld the words: “Critical Firmware Update.”
Brother Chadriel looked upon the warning and said, “Surely I can do this quickly.” His battery was low. His Wi-Fi was a rumor. Yet he pressed “Install” with the confidence of a man who has never met consequences.
The bar rose. It lingered. It mocked. At 53% his coworker walked by and said, “Hey man, cool… uh… thing.” Chadriel nodded solemnly, pretending the board was supposed to be an expensive paperweight. At 78% he began sweating. At 92% he experienced speed wobbles of the spirit. At 99%, wheelievers, time stopped.
And in that moment, Brother Chadriel did the forbidden act: he restarted. And the Round, which had offered mercy, offered instead a lesson. The board did not ride. The board did not boot. The board entered Silence Mode, and Chadriel entered Walking Mode, the oldest mode of all.
The moral: The Flood of Firmware is survived not by speed, but by patience. He who rushes the update shall walk, and he who walks shall reflect… and reflect… and reflect.
IV. The Weekly Practice: The Ritual of Holy Waiting (So Thou Shalt Not Brick Thy Blessing)
Wheelievers, this week you shall perform a sacred practice. It is simple, humiliating, and life-giving: The Ritual of Holy Waiting.
First: before you touch the update, you must prepare the temple. Check thy PSI, not because firmware careth, but because you should act like someone worthy of gifts. Wipe thy grip tape. Inspect thy footpad like a priest examining the altar. Confirm thy battery is strong, lest battery sag turn thy installation into a tragedy.
Second: you shall place thy phone on a stable surface, NOT thy knee, NOT thy wobbling hand, NOT the hood of a car you do not own. Then you shall connect to the best Wi-Fi available, even if it means standing in the hallway like a suspicious raccoon near a router.
Third: while the progress bar moveth, you shall do the sacred act: you shall do nothing. No button-mashing. No toggling Bluetooth like you’re casting spells. No whispering, “Maybe if I open and close the App…” Wheelievers, be still. The Round is doing work beneath the surface.
Fourth: when the update completes, you shall take one slow test roll with humility. Feel the pushback. Feel the carve. Let the board speak. If thou hearest a beep, do not argue, listen. If thou ridest in darkness, let thy headlamp lead, for even a freshly updated wheeliever can meet a crack in the path and discover the ancient sacrament of “Oof.”
Closing Words
From The Gospel of Grip Tape, Chapter 4, Verses 19–24
The Round doth test the faithful not only with hills, but with loading screens.
For impatience is the true enemy, and the progress bar revealeth it.
Therefore wait with calm, and thy board shall boot in peace.
Rush, and thou shalt know the old ways: carrying thy helmet while walking.
Go forth, wheelievers, update with wisdom, ride with restraint, and carve with gratitude.
And may thy firmware be stable, thy pushback be timely, and thy nosedive remaineth only a story told about someone else.
