by Gunnar Heinrich
IT has been a while, hasn’t it?
And all this time, the world kept turning, the press releases kept popping, the videos kept posting, the blogs kept regurgitating, and all of us who comb the interwebs for our automotive feedings are now – and not too suddenly – overfed. Beyond sated.
And what of those fat new rides? The 2014s and the M.Y. ’15s?
Cars that soon shall pilot themselves and monitor our every progress both inside and out.
There’s no need to drive. They’ll take it from here.
Take us gear-head-Saturday-night- ‘Bahn stormers right out of the picture.
After all, the All New – VolvoBMWBenzAudiPorscheLexusAcuraInfinitiCadillacBentleyRollsRoyceAstonMartinFerrariMaseratiAlfaRomeo – is set to become just another comfy confine in which to sell us with advertising while we transport from A-to-B.
At least, that is, before we get to teleport from A-to-B.
A thrilling, bold new day in the automotive world, isn’t it?
From inside, we won’t actually hear six hundred horses thunder so the entertainment system can just play the soundtrack like it were our favorite pop-star lip synching through a live concert. Convincing, right? Oh, and if we get tired of that soundtrack we can always switch it up. Just buy the audio track from the website conveniently accessed through your dash touchscreen or mobile devices.
Now we can just about say that we have gotten everything we ever wanted from our cars. Including convenient on-the-go access to our online banking.
But do we – whoever “we” are who find soul in some amalgam of leather, steel, and pistons – believe it when we stop in contemplation?
Well, we might if we can just get our fucking playlists to sync >>