http://www.hotrod.com/thehistoryof/53078/index4.html
180+ mph in an ugly American garden shed of a car that destroys a rainforest every time it crackles into life. A thing nearly as old as me that's had a hatfull of money spent on it to make it stop and go around corners in a manner that the original designer never intended.
I should hate the thing and lust after howling Italian metal like sensible people. Or hate it for its fuel hoovering and terrible waste like even more sensible people.
Bollocks to that. Fuck the lot of them.
See, I could probably blame exposure to Bullitt and The Dukes at an impressionable age (oh, and seventies footage from Santa Pod on World of Sport's Sports Special One) but I suspect it was the lungful of nitromethane (don't stand downwind of a fuel-car when it sparks up. You go deaf and the unburnt fuel works just like teargas.) that I experienced in 1990. At the time, I'd every intention of buying some Detroit iron while I was still young enough to have a laugh with it, but as is the way of these things, poverty got in the way.
A few years later, while house-hunting in Bristol, I met a chap with the same ambitions. He'd settled for scale models of the things in display cabinets in the living room.
Fuck that for a game of soldiers. 'Settling' is an anagram of 'mediocrity', and that's a terrible place to live.
(And in the meantime, the car-hacking movement called 'pro-touring' had become popular. Take V8 shed of a car, make it stop and go around corners, profit! And with any luck make the Clarksonistas shit themselves with hatred.)
180+ mph in an ugly American garden shed of a car that destroys a rainforest every time it crackles into life. A thing nearly as old as me that's had a hatfull of money spent on it to make it stop and go around corners in a manner that the original designer never intended.
I should hate the thing and lust after howling Italian metal like sensible people. Or hate it for its fuel hoovering and terrible waste like even more sensible people.
Bollocks to that. Fuck the lot of them.
See, I could probably blame exposure to Bullitt and The Dukes at an impressionable age (oh, and seventies footage from Santa Pod on World of Sport's Sports Special One) but I suspect it was the lungful of nitromethane (don't stand downwind of a fuel-car when it sparks up. You go deaf and the unburnt fuel works just like teargas.) that I experienced in 1990. At the time, I'd every intention of buying some Detroit iron while I was still young enough to have a laugh with it, but as is the way of these things, poverty got in the way.
A few years later, while house-hunting in Bristol, I met a chap with the same ambitions. He'd settled for scale models of the things in display cabinets in the living room.
Fuck that for a game of soldiers. 'Settling' is an anagram of 'mediocrity', and that's a terrible place to live.
(And in the meantime, the car-hacking movement called 'pro-touring' had become popular. Take V8 shed of a car, make it stop and go around corners, profit! And with any luck make the Clarksonistas shit themselves with hatred.)
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Date: 2005-11-07 11:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 11:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 12:01 pm (UTC)You think you've got a problem? I've now _twice_ seen
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Date: 2005-11-07 01:18 pm (UTC)I can only blame it on my naturally conservative nature, my instinct for economy, my abhorrence for technical fripperies and wonkeries that serve no great purpose in the onward march of human progress.
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Date: 2005-11-07 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 11:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 12:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 01:56 pm (UTC)*end of car as cock metaphor*
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Date: 2005-11-07 02:25 pm (UTC)Like this: http://www.libeljournal.com/album/phonepix/random/Crapi.jpg
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Date: 2005-11-07 02:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 01:33 pm (UTC)Then again, my desktop background at work is the black Charger from Blade ...
At least the original Charger had somewhat more serious anti-roll bars across the back than most US vehicles ... but then with the Magnum drinking 1/4 gallon every mile and giving you 400bhp and 400lb/ft in return, hell ... spin those wheels* and roll those dice, and put the champagne on ice ... oh for the V8 rumble and the six-pack carbs ...
Of course, you know Richard Hammond from Top Gear bought himself a Charger when he was filming over there, because he too fell in love with the things?
* And yes, I know the original version referred to roulette, but ...
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Date: 2005-11-07 01:41 pm (UTC)http://www.gothpat.me.uk/album/chicago/70scar3.jpg
Mind, all of those were from the 'require a body-off rebuild' end of the yard.
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Date: 2005-11-07 01:46 pm (UTC)Damn.
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Date: 2005-11-07 10:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-08 09:44 am (UTC)Then again, I don't have plastic, nor do I have the personal oil-well required to run a decent muscle car, unfortunately ...
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Date: 2005-11-07 06:16 pm (UTC)If I was going for something with Yank presence then I'd pick Australian metal. Ford Falcon XB GT, circe 1976-79.
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Date: 2005-11-09 11:00 am (UTC)Last of the V8 Interceptors, eh? I think I'd better add that film to the list of terrible influences.
(Although a late 80s Nissan Q45 might be fun.)
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Date: 2005-11-09 07:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-09 10:57 am (UTC)With the exceptions of Novas and some versions of GTO.
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Date: 2005-11-10 04:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-10 10:22 am (UTC)