So, do you need proof that the American car industry is a goner? Or that America, as a force for what’s awesome and cool, is dead? Or, that the generation that is “twee,” has claimed victory?
Behold GM’s official dance routine performed at the LA Auto Show – set to the song “Chevy Volt and Me.”
I’d fetch a bucket.
—–
So there you have it: the official car for fragile flowers, those Narnian fauns conceived at the Lilith Faire, who steer with tiny hooves, listening to Dido, desperately clutching a worn copy of Deepak Chopra’s latest caftan caper.
Sure, the “car” is tiny – but there’s enough room for the yoga mat, a bag of Craisins and a papermache sculpture of the tree nymph you did at the Learning Annex (it helped you get over the hypnotherapist who dumped you).
I kid – that’s not the type of person driving a Volt – because they can’t afford this sanctimonious sardine can.
Yep, this EZ bake oven on wheels cost 40 grand. That’s a price that, writes Charles Lane in Slate, only folks making more than $200,000 a year would consider.
Lane quotes a report, saying buyers “will be concentrated in Southern California,” and will be ” popularized by high-profile celebrities.” Meaning, the only people buying it will be Janeane Garofalo, and or someone resembling Janeane Garofalo.
God we’re soft.
And this is what happens in a nanny state run by a government who thinks they know you better, than you know yourself. They want you to buy something no one wants, at a price few can afford.They’re telling you what you “ought” to drive, as opposed to should. Or want.
This is what I drive.
It’s a Facel Vega HK500.
When I got it, it was about the same price as a volt –
But it’s got no seatbelts, eats gas and killed Albert Camus.
Those were the good old days.
And if you disagree with me, you’re a racist homophobe who drives a fur-line Hummer that runs on pelican blood.
Gerri WIllis!
Larry Galtlin!
Ellis Henican!
and Shark Week host Terry Schappert! (he’s gunna talk about summer party salad recipes…nah…he’s gunna talk about sharks!)