They've gone plaid!
A Tesla Plaid sedan stomps the ever-livin' F U C K out of a McClaren 720S hypercar. Three times. The last time with three fat guys riding along in the Tesla and with the Mickey getting spotted a full car length and a rolling start. It still couldn't pull out a win against the Telsa. Watch and weep, boys.
Well... that was just downright embarrassing.
The era of gasoline-powered performance cars is officially over, boys. I'm not talking about infrastructure or travel practicality or battery replacement cost or any of the other problems typically thrown up in arguments against electric cars. I'm talkin' about the fact that in a straight up race, an electric production car stomped the ever-livin' F U C K out of a gas-powered hypercar. When it came time to measure dicks, the Mickey came up short. End of story.
If I were the type to be bitter (ahem), I'd lament the fact that I finally got myself into a 500 horsepower sportscar -- and it's obsolete. It's now the automotive equivalent of a suit of 16th century Maximillian plate: beautiful, complex, expensive, the very height of the craftsman's art... and utterly useless on the battlefield because a peasant with a cheap matchlock will take it out of play in one shot. Maybe in a hundred years some kids will see a V-8 RWD sportscar in a museum and marvel at its strange beauty, hyper-complexity, and laughably high quarter-mile tickets, much the way I oggled the first time I saw a suit of Max plate on display.
Viva la batteries! Long may they reign.
Well... that was just downright embarrassing.
The era of gasoline-powered performance cars is officially over, boys. I'm not talking about infrastructure or travel practicality or battery replacement cost or any of the other problems typically thrown up in arguments against electric cars. I'm talkin' about the fact that in a straight up race, an electric production car stomped the ever-livin' F U C K out of a gas-powered hypercar. When it came time to measure dicks, the Mickey came up short. End of story.
If I were the type to be bitter (ahem), I'd lament the fact that I finally got myself into a 500 horsepower sportscar -- and it's obsolete. It's now the automotive equivalent of a suit of 16th century Maximillian plate: beautiful, complex, expensive, the very height of the craftsman's art... and utterly useless on the battlefield because a peasant with a cheap matchlock will take it out of play in one shot. Maybe in a hundred years some kids will see a V-8 RWD sportscar in a museum and marvel at its strange beauty, hyper-complexity, and laughably high quarter-mile tickets, much the way I oggled the first time I saw a suit of Max plate on display.
Viva la batteries! Long may they reign.
posted by Jar(egg)head at 17:42
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