The Rake Magazine

(Pictured. Douching device (not to size). May also be used for urea replacement in your diesel. Read below).

Do me a favor. Take the snarky tone of my blog (is it? oh, is it? please!) and put it aside for a minute. I mean create an Obama and the Preacher (aka bigot) wall between my blog and what I am about to say.

I might have been wrong about diesels.

Someone acutally convinced me last night that the new 60mpg Jetta will never be for weasels. I now think I agree.

In fact, I am not totally certain that stateside diesels will pollute the air any more than their non-diesel counterparts. I also realize you could compellingly prove that their emissions are as pure as Michelle Obama's intentions. And I like the Mercedes Bluetec. I also like nurses, and talking to them in the hospital when I am not really sick.

Yet I continue to be dogged by the MIT alumnis (my Dad and others) who say that you really cannot completely teach an old dog new tricks. Proof of this is Audi/VW's DSG. It was touted as better than Ferrari's paddle-shifting 18 months ago and now it is being panned as more clunky than cool.

Even if they really have made a bijon freis hunt like a bloodhound why do you need to replace the urea in a new diesel every 10,000 miles?

Urea. Right. Sounds like piss.

Finally you can take ALL the empirical evidence in the world to show me that Diesels are 100% weasel-free and I would counter with this elegant observation:

Can you see Maserati or Ferrari in the same sentence as "diesel"?

If I must live and write in pedestrian fashion, as I frequently do, then I want a bike and a normally aspirated Benz.

This is life, I am sure, as nature intends.

...and in the same breath--the Prius, indisputably an automobile for ryhmes-with-wussies...

If only for the simple fact that buying "green" right now is just plain dumb. And please, before you cleanse your computer screen with Mommy's blood-decorated stole, consider these three logical points:

a) With a hybrid you are buying into a somewhat untested technology that is merely fashionable at the moment.

b) You are buying at a ridiculous premium.

c) If you buy a diesel you are still polluting more than a gas engine, and your Crocs just won't cut it at the average truck stop where you'll have to buy your gas (neither will your Mercedes E320 Bluetec*.)

If unassailable intelligence fails you, then realize by overpaying for "green" you are giving up a cool $5000.00 (at least) that you could use for these really hot bicycles:

1) The latest iteration of the Trek Madonne series.

2) The Specialized Robauix series.

3) Anything by Cervelo'.

4) Anything by Bianchi.

If you really want to fight global warming, then ride one of these to work.** They are available at Penn Cycle, Erik's, or Kenwood Cyclery, and now is the perfect time to buy 2007 close-outs.

Unless you weasel out of it.

*Valliant effort by Mercedes and I love the torque, but, as yet, unproven in the USA as they just don't drive that far in Europe.

**And buy a nice gas-only econobox with some style like the Honda Fit, the new Mistubishi Lancer Ralliart or the new SEMA Chevy HHR panel van (cooler than the Mini Clubman and much faster, hence cooler...).

pictured: The Yukon XL—"the national car of Texas"

I recently finished reading a book on TFK terrorism (essentially) called The Bullet's Song. As pretentious as this lead-in sentence sounds, I really did read the book and, in the process, learned some fascinating words.

Like irredentism. It's from the Italian for "unclaimed territory." I believe it came into fashion as the Italian poet and social libertine Gabrielle D'Annunzio formed the break-away and short-lived Republic Of Fiume after World War I. Great story. Which leads me to my headline.

I just returned from a trip to West Texas (Houston—close enough). It's clear to me that people in this part of Texas will not be happy until every last stretch of asphalt has been claimed and/or reclaimed for the largest possible SUV you can put on the road. In fact, it is terrifying to to rent anything less than a Town Car when you travel in this part of the country.

Which makes me fear for my friends in Austin.

I have been struck by lightning.

BMW now apparently wants the Popemobile biz (proposal depicted above). As a Mercedes (exclusive builders of Vatican limos for an eternity) owner, I pray for an intercession.

As no self-respecting Swabian would be seen in a high-end Manure Wagen, neither should His Most Holy Benedict.

Irrefutable evidence of this can been seen in the long, storied history that Mercedes has enjoyed with the Vatican. I believe its finest hour was clearly the 600 Pullman Series open top cars from the early sixties. I could wax about them, but I think this ad from a Seattle limo service does it best:

"The rarest of the hand built 600 limousines was the Landaulet, of which only 59 were ever made.

These exclusive parade cars were owned by royalty and heads of state, including Pope Paul VI. The previous owner of this car was a Columbian businessman. The head of a highly profitable “import-export” cartel, he is now serving a number of life sentences in a US Federal penitentiary.

The penultimate bridal limousine, or the crowning touch for a special occasion. By itself, or in convoy with one or both of our matching ex-Hugh Hefner 600 Pullmans , this magnificent example of automotive indulgence will make a day to remember."

Why I even need to make argument is beyond me. Given that Pope Benedict is from Bavaria, however, I am not exactly holding out a candle. Dio mio te deum in grande excelsis.

(e.d.: I wish I had an uncle like Kurt Nelson's. The "Yellobird" is just the most famous roadgoing Porsche Turbo of all time. Big article in Sports Car International this month--the only one you should read. Here are Kurt's fond memories of the RUF experience, rashes included:)

The day I drove a RUF CTR stays with me like a good rash — something a little annoying, but the burning sensation went away with boost, oh so lovely boost.

There is Porsche, and then there are the RUF variants, taking what is already a potent automobile and transforming them into unbelievable driving machines. Alois Ruf Jr., the man behind the engines, takes his place as one of the worlds foremost tuners, and I was fortunate enough to have driven one of his iconic cars. I actually got to flog it a bit, spin the tires and move the speedo a little, all the while remaining very smug

About 15 years ago my uncle brought me into his garage to show me the latest acquisition to his stable; a RUF Porsche CTR, or commonly known as the “Yellowbird”. This is a car he picked up new and shipped to Germany for Alois Ruf Jr. to do his magic. That magic included taking a normally aspirated 3.6l engine and thru some “tweaks” turning it into a 475 hp beast with a manual boost control allowing for up to 32 lbs of turbo mayhem coupled with quad pot Brembo brakes all around; if you are going to propel to outrageous speeds, you had better be able to come to a screeching halt if needed.

I was giddy when the engine turned over: the rumble was like a heartbeat, a low thumping which belied the power under the hood. This was long before the rice burners and the fart cans sticking out the back, so having a little noise from the exhaust actually meant something. It was the roar when he kicked the throttle down that made my inner child stand up and say holy farcking-schmidt.

He drove first, allowing me to feel what it’s like to be pinned to the seat, in 3 gears, engine roaring, tires smoking, and passing cars like they were in reverse. To be fair, mid way into 3^rd gear and we were over 120 mph, but who was keeping track, not me I was too busy trying to wipe the full shit eating grin off my face.

After some begging, groveling really, and promising that I would not fuck up the car, we changed seats and I got to drive this piece of automotive wonder. Buckles fastened, smile firmly attached to face, and my license in a easily reachable place just in case, I let er rip, smoking the tires and shifting as fast as I could into second, not just to preserve the motor, but also to stop the wheel spin, and really feel the acceleration when those sticky tires hooked up. I knew that the acceleration would be mind blowing, but what I really wanted was to get into the twistys, ya know, let it all out on some curves, testing to see if those tires were worth their value at $300 each. On my first freeway cloverleaf, I experienced the drivability issue common to Porsche; over steer. Coming in at 90, I hit the brakes hard, and got the car a bit sideways, with the backend coming around more than was comfortable, and really it was not a problem, but my passenger suddenly had a less than comfortable look on his face. Hey, if you don’t push it a bit every now and then, how do you know what the limits are or how do find out if those tires perform as predicted. A bonus is being able to steer with the right foot, using the throttle to point shoot at will. Pulling a rollercoaster like g force, the car just tracked around the cloverleaf and rocketed into the merge lane at 75, just out of 2^nd gear. That was fun so I sought out another set of cloverleaf exchanges, and to varying degrees I had the car either under control or out of control, depending on the driver or passenger perspective.

This was all we could muster, due to traffic and the presence of the police, who were eying the car, just waiting for me to do something stupid. I did bring it up to about 140 when we were out of traffic, and judging by how hard is was pulling, the claim by RUF of a top end over 200mph seemed plausible.

He has since sold the RUF, and other cars have come into the fold including a Ferrari 512M which is a kick to drive as well , but that Porsche lingers in my memory and always brings a smile and a regret that I did not go to law school and become a criminal defense attorney.

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