My man, Clive, serves me the blood of a virgin snail diluted in newt sweat, served in a brass thimble. This is followed by thick, fat rails of bee pollen and intravenous infusions of essential oils. If this level of pharmacological intervention still isn’t up to the task, I send for the leeches to let my humors flow…

No turn signals or rear view mirrors. This bike is still a concept. A very slow concept that doesn’t appear to corner very well. Slick looking concept, but kind of forgettable.

Bellissimo!

The voice in my head read this with a Billie Eilish voice.

$16,800 for millionaire doors? NP. 

Looks like a perfect place to mount one of those square tail lights you're always going on about.

This looks like the unholy product from the coupling of an E-class that went slumming with a Chevy Avalanche. 

All caps shows thoughtfulness and constraint. Enjoy your rage.

No shit. WWII films dominate the genre. There are other American wars, but you’d be tempted to think otherwise with the number of stories that conflict generated.

“Unlike Nazi’s, it’s a lot more sensationalist and exploitative in a way”

The “worship” was used to increase the hype. Who doesn’t want to take out Manson? 

“Manson” worship here is same as the “Nazi” worship from “Inglorious Basterds” (I hate that spelling). In that it was an easy plot element that allowed for Tarantino’s “alternate history” theme to be repeated again, with flamethrowers, and Dicaprio. Tarantino just uses the biggest target of ire from the period to…

It did have the highest count for “foot shots” of any Tarantino flick. Several minutes of grubby, hippy feet on screen. That’s solid film making, right there. But, alas... old Karmann Ghias, hack bits of Manson worship, and weak scripts about Hollywood burnouts just don’t keep me enthralled.

Thanks for the concern. I had a great cosmetic surgeon and it never got in my way. The MR2 actually was useful in keeping me alive that night. If had been in a typical Japanese FWD car, I wouldn’t have fared so well. The mid engine cushioned much of the 40 MPH impact from that Taurus wagon.

What?! You didn’t like two hours of people driving around in 1970's LA? Didn’t you want to hear some of the most boring dialogue to ever come out of a Tarantino film?

And that, my friends, is the voice of experience. 

I had that exact car in 1987. Bought it used and drove it like it was stolen. Got hit from the rear by a drunk so hard it pushed me through the sunroof. Still have the scar, but not the car. Hope your mom fared better with hers. 

This design looks better in the flesh. Saw my first one last night. It's an impressive looking car. 

Its a low bar, but passed easily.

This 12 minutes was better than many full episodes of the “Grand Tour”.