The $1.2 Million Lotus 66 ‘Can Am’ Car Is A Lie

Cork Screwed Tsyellow
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Well it had to happen I suppose, now that David and Jason are successful heads of an automotive media empire. They have cast off their proletarian roots and joined Beau in the Grey Poupon set at Monterey Car Week, perusing Rolex catalogs and attending Sotheby’s auctions. They’ve forgotten you, the regular people; but don’t worry dear reader, your favorite goth uncle has not. I haven’t been walking around, champagne flute in hand, pointing at nine figure cars and pretending I know what the fuck I am looking at. I’ve been keeping it real by connecting with MY people at an airfield in Germany and getting weird. But now I’m back in your service. Let me tell you what’s had me checking my guillotine for sharpness this week.

Out of the deluge of new releases rolling onto the finely cut lawns in California one in particular has stood out for its sheer pointlessness. The Lotus 66 Can Am car. A continuation car that in reality never actually existed. Lotus are selling a heritage they don’t even have. Have we reached the point where an assumed past and tradition count for more than the real thing?

[Ed Note: You’ll have to excuse Adrian’s rant, here. As you’ll read, he gets a bit emotional about his beloved British brand. -DT]. 

Can Am Racing
Photo: Newspress

One of the Wildest Ever Race Series

The (Can)adian – (Am)erican Challenge Cup ran in its original form from 1966 until 1974. Although ostensibly run to FIA Group 7 regulations, in reality these were very loose and it was basically an open formula. To quote GPL World:

The Canadian American Challenge Cup Series (Can-Am) started out as a race series for Group 7 sports racers with two races in Canada and four races in the United States of America. The Series was governed by rules called out under the FIA Group 7 category with unrestricted engine capacity and few other technical restrictions.The Group 7 category was essentially a Formula Libre for sports cars; the regulations were minimal and permitted unlimited engine sizes (and allowed turbocharging and supercharging), virtually unrestricted aerodynamics, and were as close as any major international racing series ever got to anything goes.

As long as the car had two seats and bodywork enclosing the wheels, and met basic safety standards, it was legal. Group 7 had arisen as a category for non-homologated sports car ‘specials’ in Europe and for a while in the 1960s Group 7 racing was popular in the United Kingdom as well as a class in hillclimb racing in Europe. Group 7 cars were designed more for short-distance sprints than for endurance racing. Some Group 7 cars were also built in Japan by Nissan and Toyota, but these did not compete outside their homeland (though some of the Can-Am competitors went over to race against them occasionally).

There was good appearance and prize money, and the series was well sponsored, and thanks to it being limited to just one continent it attracted a lot of contemporary Formula One drivers on their off weekends. Due to the relatively lax technical regulations it played host to some incredibly innovative race cars including the Chaparral 2J that had a snowmobile-engined ducted fan arrangement and lexan skirts to suck it onto the track – the original “fan car.” The Shadow DN4 (which looks like the sort of Batmobile I might come up with) had tiny front wheels to lower its profile and improve aerodynamics.

Mclarnem85
Photo: Newspress

Initially, Lola were the dominant team, with John Surtees winning the inaugural championship in 1966, until their strategy of designing a new car every year was outdone by McLaren, who took a basic wedge shape and made it faster each season by simply fitting bigger and bigger Chevy V8 engines. Even Ferrari thought it looked like fun, eventually building their largest ever V12 engine for the 7.0-liter 712. If this all sounds glorious, it was. Right until the moment Porsche got serious in 1972 and ruined everything.

And You Have Burned So Very, Very Brightly Can Am

The Germans had initially competed with a Spyder version of the 917 Le Mans racer, but even at 530bhp it wasn’t powerful enough. With an unlimited development budget in 1972 they unloaded the 917/10K from a Penske transporter and promptly blew everyone else into the weeds. For 1973, this became the 917/30. With a staggering 1100 bhp in qualifying in the hands of legendary driver-engineer Mark Donohue it won six out of eight races that year

The party had to end sometime and after Shadow had won the 1974 championship it was. The SCCA had had enough of German domination and fiddled with the rules to promote fuel efficiency. Like all the greatest eras of motor racing, it was simply getting too expensive and, thanks to a domestic recession and oil crisis, it folded for 1975.

So there’s your potted history of a brief time when giants thundered around the North American continent piloted by some of the greatest drivers who ever lived. The sharper reader will no doubt be wondering where Lotus fits into all this, seeing as I didn’t mention them at all in the previous few paragraphs. Eggs-fucking-zactly, my friends.

Can Am 2

What is a Continuation Car Exactly?

I’ve always thought continuation cars were a bit tenuous. The way it supposedly goes is in the back of some long forgotten OEM workshop there’s a pile of dusty ledgers. One day the nearly dead custodian cracks one open, blows the cobwebs off the pages and reveals some unused chassis numbers from sixty years ago. How convenient. They strike me as a level of prostitution that, well, a prostitute might blanch at.

In a rare display of Britain giving capitalism lessons to America, British companies have been most shameless in this area. Jaguar has built continuation E-Type Lightweights, XKSS’s, as well as C and D Types. Bentley will sell you a “new” Blower or Speed Six, and Aston Martin has built DB4GT, DB4GT Zagatos and even 25  DB5 Goldfingers whose faithful recreation of onscreen gadgets mean they can’t even be driven on the road. But they’re harmless enough I suppose, unless you own an original. They provide high-end OEMs a nice little addition to the bottom line and demonstrate the restoration skills of your in-house technicians. I’m not getting too worked up about them, unless Ford suddenly decides to start building continuation Capri 2.8 injections, in which case sign me the fuck up.

Lotus 66 Interior

That’s not what the Lotus 66 is. It only ever lived as a few tenth scale drawings commissioned by Colin Chapman and drafted by race car designer Geoff Ferris. For all Chapman’s startling innovations he had just as many failures. But he was apparently always driven by money, which is why the prosperous Can Am series caught his eye. At the time Lotus barely had the resources to cover all the series it was involved in, let alone racing in another, which is why the 66 never progressed beyond a few layout sketches. If Lotus was going to knock out a few more 49s or 72s, then that I could understand. After all, one historic formula one enthusiast wanted a Tyrrell P34 so badly, that unable to purchase one he built two of his own.

Lotus Type 66

Cars are not just cars. They are a metal box of memories. The venue doesn’t matter. Every classic car is container full of lived experiences. Each crack in a leather seat for all the drivers who sat in it. Every faded sponsor decal on the scuffed bodywork for on track battles lost and won. It all means something to us as enthusiasts and owners. Provenance is everything, and it’s a living breathing thing, written and rewritten over through time.

The Type 66 is different. It’s a fugazi. A fake. A brand new replication of something not real. Lotus is indulging in its own alternate history fantasy with the object of parting fools from their money. You can’t race it, as it never raced in period, so it’s not eligible for an FIA Historic Technical Passport. With a build run of ten and a projected price of more than £1 million a piece, none of these are going to see anything more troubling than Lord March’s front driveway. It’s nothing more than a wheeled asset for tiresome watch-wankers to boast they’ve got one to people equally as loathsome as they are. At this point it’s a Hot Wheels Treasure Hunt for High Net Worth Individuals. As an object it’s utterly vacuous and totally devoid of meaning and purpose. It can’t tell any stories and it has no provenance. The sheer vapidity of this is highlighted by the fact you could buy a GENUINE 1970 McLaren M8 Can Am car for $295k.

Now you might argue that I’m just being contrary out of envy, or spite, or simply hating rich people. Not the case. I have nothing against rich people per se, nor is it my business how they spend their money. I know I’ll always be outside the tent pissing in, as opposed to inside pissing out, and I’m mostly fine with that. Though I do, after all, own an old Ferrari. My problem with the Lotus Type 66 is what it represents. It is an absolute clanging indictment of everything twisted and absurd with the enthusiast car scene at the moment, at all price points. Are we so bereft of imagination we’re inventing new forms of nostalgia to sell simply because people are running out of things to spend money on?

Lotus 66 3

OEM heritage used to be a lodestar – something that reminded them where they’d been and where they were going. Lotus’ problem at the moment is one of total directional confusion. On one hand you’ve got bloated electric SUVs and lead-sled electric hypercars. One another you’ve got last-of-the-line ICE mid-engined sports cars that are no lighter than their contemporaries. And finally you’ve got the Type 66. What exactly, does this company stand for? [Ed Note: I did drive the manual, supercharged V6 Emira, and it’s fantastic. -DT]. 

Can Am was a wonderful period in motor racing that shone twice as bright but half as long. True beauty has no permanence, if it did familiarity would rob of its power. To be truly human means to live in the here and now, not constantly pining for a time when we imagine things were better, because the present is too horrifying to face.

I’d have more respect for them if they’d just built the Type 66 digitally and dropped it in Gran Turismo 7. At least that way more people would have got to enjoy it and it would actually get the chance to race.

Counterpoint

McLaren M8F

Hi, Matt Hardigree, here.

Here’s a McLaren M8F I took a photo of at Laguna Seca this weekend because it reminded me, in many ways, of the Lotus. The cartoonish velocity stacks, in particular.

There are only so many Can Am cars that will ever be built and, unfortunately, some of them will be crashed at events like this one. They ain’t making any more and, to Adrian’s point, they represent an incredible period in racing history. It’s a shame that Lotus didn’t get to participate, though I’m sure it would have likely accelerated the company’s problems.

Is this all a bit silly? Sure, but all that silliness is producing what’s definitely going to be a glorious bark coming out of the high revving, 830-horsepower V8. We need more interesting cars. Even if EVs aren’t necessarily going to be the only vehicles you can buy in a few years, this might be the last gasp of socially acceptable, low run ICE-powered cars. Let’s enjoy it while we can.

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116 thoughts on “The $1.2 Million Lotus 66 ‘Can Am’ Car Is A Lie

  1. “[Ed Note: You’ll have to excuse Adrian’s rant, here. As you’ll read, he gets a bit emotional about his beloved British brand. -DT].”

    Stop clipping Adrian’s wings!!!

  2. As a young kid I was enamored with Can-Am cars. They were bonkers, balls-out, ultimate racing machines. I had the Hot Wheels, I gazed at pictures, and I idolized Mark Donohue who my dad met a number of times at the Penske garages and said was an amazing guy. Can-Am was the series where the greatest drivers from the other series all wanted to drive, so you know there was something in it for them as drivers and competitors beyond the money.

    My favorite team and cars were by far the Chaparrals. Jim Hall was an absolute genius and the cars were monsters. And that brings me to the one detail that frosts me the most about this endeavor: Dear Lotus, when you have zero history with the series how DARE you misappropriate the sacred number 66 for your car!!!!!

      1. Continuation or not, I’d drive the living daylights out of that car if I had the money. I’d be living out my childhood dreams. Thanks for the clip.

  3. In complete agreement. For me the main point is that it is pointless. If it could be raced with in period cars (though I wouldn’t actually agree with that as it never existed in the era) or if it could be used on the road, I’d be fine with it in spite of its cynical genesis as it would still be a beautiful old school car and if a dumb story allowed them to weasel their way around the anti-Viagra of modern regulations that make modern cars so largely yawn inducing in spite of their paper performance, so be it. As it is, these are almost like VIN-less show cars, but not even as cool as that as an old show car would still have an interesting story and historical relevance and by nature of being a bit of a snapshot in time that can still be fantasy-inducing and inspirational. My oldest nephew, for instance, had little interest in cars until he saw some Tic-Tok that had the Lancia Stratos Zero in it and he was left in awe. I introduced him to the contemporary portfolios of Gandini and Guigiaro as a start and he began to see the art in the automobile and he wondered what the hell happened to us that we drive what we drive today. I told him I think about that every damn day.

    1. The younger generations are being robbed. Most of Gen Z are priced out of cars altogether. The vast majority of millennials can only dream of owning something nice. Even aspirational JDM cars that were relatively inexpensive during their youth(but still largely unattainable to those living paycheck to paycheck) are now totally out of reach even to Millennials who are relatively well off. Even most of Gen X can’t afford nice things. I suspect most of Gen Alpha won’t even get to drive when they reach the appropriate age.

      So it goes.

      I’m lucky I got something nice when it was cheap and fixed it up. My GT6 isn’t my dream car, but it checks most of the boxes on that anyway, and it was all of $1,200 in its initial rust-bucket, barely-running, deathtrap of a cobbled-together race car state. It was bought as a MkII body on a MkIII frame with a mishmash of parts from various Triumphs(some TR6 parts in it too), so I don’t at all feel bad about mutilating it into a go-fast EV. Although it did take almost a decade of work before I finally drove it as an EV conversion, and it still isn’t finished to this day with what is approaching 2 decades later.

      1. God the JDM part hurts. I’m a millennial and my wife and my household income is probably in the top 5% or so nationally (I’m not trying to brag, just providing context). I couldn’t go out and spend $60,000 on a Civic Type R today even if I wanted to. It would be an absolutely reckless use of resources.

        Remember the early 2000s when things like an Evo, STI, or Supra seemed like attainable dream cars? Boy I sure do….and today people are willingly paying $40,000 for an SI or Toyobaru and MK4 Supras are six figure cars. This is one of the reasons why I love my Kona N and the N brand in general. Hyundai is one of the very last companies that’s still trying to make affordable enthusiast cars…and even their latest N is going to cost $60,000+.

        As of now my attainable dream car is an Integra Type S….in a few years I’ll be able to comfortably afford one, but I’m sure that Honda will keep jacking the price up every model year and JDM bros will remain willing to take our second mortgages to pay $10,000 ADM for them.

        It’s not supposed to be like this.

        1. The way I see it, I’m going to have to build my dream car. I just need the workspace. Anything I would really want is already well out of my reach, and like you, I’m a millennial doing better than most, except I don’t have a wife and kids to support, AND I live in a ghetto to keep my living expenses as low as possible. I’ve been cash poor my whole life up until a few years ago, so I’m used to it. For enthusiasts, things are looking very, very grim. All but the top 1% are going to be priced out of fun cars soon, I predict.

          There is no way in hell I’d pay $60k for any new-ish car these days. I wouldn’t even pay that for a used Alfa Romeo 4C.

      2. I kept putting off the cars I wanted while they were just affordable enough for me so I could help other people who needed money more than I needed a dumb toy. Now those damn dumb toys that floated in temptingly-priced obscurity for ages blew up and out of reach even now that I’m doing a lot better.

        When I was a kid, I’d go out riding on my BMX to spot cars and it seemed every 12th driveway even in my low and lower middle class city had something cool for the weekend. Now I live in an uppity neighborhood and people have a half dozen cars, but they’re all GD SUVs of some sort, either black or white. Most interesting neighbor car is a Rivian and another has someone that visits them with a Ferrari California (the ugly, big assed one) in No Imagination Red. It’s almost special to see a TR6 today when those used to be everywhere. I used to see a guy who dailied a Bugatti Type 55 and another with a Ferrari 330 GTC in nice weather. Even ordinary old cars that were never in a stupid car movie or Japanese comic book are now at formerly lower end collector prices (even accounting for inflation). Hell, I was looking into something comfortable and simple, like a RWD Delta 88 coupe or Caprice Classic with the fastback glass and even those stupid things in decent shape are into what should be entry level collectible territory for mildly interesting cars, like an ’80s Monte Carlo SS or something.

        I always wanted to build my own car, but without the money to be able to outsource the build and get the engineering checked (I can’t use a donor chassis from anything else), particularly with figuring the suspension geometry, I’d never finish it. Decided to build a small speedboat instead using some of the same themes of low maintenance and efficient performance at the cost of people carrying capability I don’t need or luxury features I don’t want. The hull was done by a naval architect, so it shouldn’t roll over sink at launch, but above the waterline is mine. That said, it might get to the point where I have to build my own car if I want to have any hope of continuing to enjoy driving.

  4. This reminds me of record labels reissuing records, an analog to the continuation car I guess. But occasionally, they will find some master tapes in the vault or in some dead producer’s garage, nearly lost to time, and decide to press them, the first time. I always like that, to bring something to light like that, because it’s available to all who want it. Because it’s a $20-$50 record (yes $50 is too much for a record, but still). But this is like charging $20k for 1/100 pressings because it has Stirling Moss’s blood in the colored vinyl (I think I am mixing my metaphors).

        1. But no one will. There are ten. You might as well go a buy a McClaren replica, as least you could race that and not worry about bending it or putting miles on it. Well, your ankles might not thank you for bending it.

  5. this definitely blurs the line between reality and the fake universe some people prefer to believe in.
    my suggestion is to tell the truth and call it a steampunk group7 lotus.

  6. I agree completely about the lack of provenance, the uselessness, and the absurdity of building ten of them to become basically garage art for the well-heeled but unworthy.

    But ten-year-old-me sees a wedge-shaped car with velocity stacks and goes “Coooooool.”

    Also, it only existed as 1/10 scale drawings? Excuse me, Mr. Tamiya; I have a request…

      1. You’re more likely to see a Toyota 7 from them (a Toyota Can Am car to the same regs that never raced outside of Japan).

        I *think* MPC did a McLaren, but I’m not sure which.

      1. You don’t want to eat human if you’re a human—you can get kuru, which is a prion disease. Endangered carnivores would be a great recipient of their meat, though. Who doesn’t love a tiger, for instance? Other than someone whose relatives were eaten by one, I don’t want to know the person who doesn’t.

        1. I’m aware. That crap is in our food supply due to feeding animals parts of their own dead or feeding herbivores other animals and animal byproducts. But if there’s nothing left to eat, the rich will certainly be on the menu.

  7. Ok, so Adrian is right and the ‘story’ behind this is ridiculous and pathetic….

    BUUUTTT damn that thing is sexy AF and I’m glad it exists. We just need to ignore the story, realize they did it because they can, and appreciate it for what it physically is. Sign me up for the knock off kit version!

  8. Are we so bereft of imagination we’re inventing new forms of nostalgia to sell simply because people are running out of things to spend money on?”

    Pretty much, yes. People will do anything for a buck.

  9. It’s a bit like those alternate WWII histories. I understand why it’s compelling, but it’s also kind of gross. If you need a new Can Am racer, you can always recreate one of the genuine ones.

    1. Yes, and as far as my limited understanding goes, it would be eligible for FIA papers so you could race it in historics (whether you’d get invited or not is another matter entirely).

      1. I suppose that people who buy these might use them for a local track series or track days. I don’t know and don’t have the money to be interested.
        On a side note, I spoke with Tom Price (owner of a Ferrari 250 GTO) and he said that there are now more Shadow cars on the historics circuit than ever were produced.

    1. That’s not entirely the point. The point is this cannot race, and is unlikely to be driven as there will only be ten of them. It has no cogent reason to exist and it can’t create its own history.

  10. “Have we reached the point where an assumed past and tradition count for more than the real thing?”

    “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story”

    – Mark Twain (maybe)

  11. As the owner of a vintage 1956 Lotus Eleven that I have raced at Monterey, I can’t believe I am writing this but Adrian is spot on here. I love Lotus in all their spunk, audacity, recklessness, irresponsibility, and sheer fucking genius. Watching them flop about in the post Elise days is like watching my mother-in-law struggle with dementia. Their rare and brief flashes of lucidity (Emira) are more gutting than the low points because they remind you of their heights.

    The red one.
    https://photos.app.goo.gl/V9ZwS7MgTBvUNVhr7

      1. Participating at Monterey is a brilliant experience. During practice I was lined up between a Ferrari Testarossa (the original one from the 50s) and a Maserati Birdcage. I remember thinking, “Damn, I better not miss a braking point.”!

    1. It’s beautiful. You are so lucky to have this!

      Lotus needs to do a modern interpretation, that is loyal to its design philosophy: focus on minimal drag and minimal weight. A streamliner with a Cd value similar to or less than a VW XL1 and less-than-Miata curb weight would be an amazing car with today’s tech, and its fuel economy would be unrivalled.

      1. I still maintain they should have bought Caterham and done exactly this sort of thing. And can you imagine a Seven with proper OEM resources behind it? 3D printed parts, amazing detailing yet still unmistakably a Seven.

        1. Don’t forget a wind tunnel. Get the damned thing as slippery as possible. A Cd value around 0.13 for an enclosed version is not out of the question, considering that is what the Panhard CD Peugeot 66C and the Fiat Turbina both achieved.

          A modern 4-cylinder engine of about 2 liters could have such a thing approaching 100 mpg highway, as long as you kept your foot out of it, and you’d only need about 200 horsepower to exceed 200 mph… of course, not accounting for variables such as downforce and dynamic stability.

      2. Lotus made the 2-Eleven roofless, doorless, windscreenless Elise-based optionally road legal track car thing, and the 3-Eleven, which was the same sort of thing but based on the Exige V6.

        I’ve got models of both on my desk. I’d love a 2-Eleven.

        Both seemed like damn good efforts to build something mad based on what they had available to them.

  12. I wonder what the ideal Lotus for a cool goth uncle would look like?

    I’m thinking a 1st gen Europa, black with dark tinted windows, black interior, and a Rover V8 swapped in but modified with EFI and a supercharger then tuned to somewhere around 500 horsepower. The fragile chassis would have to be reinforced, with a roll cage added. Deck it out like a hearse, and put a landau bar in the back. It would shit bats.

          1. damn. I forgot about this car. thanks, i was happy thinking the only Lotus i would regret never having, from someone who’s never and will never have a Lotus, was the +2s.

          2. Vaguely in the same wheelhouse, a friend of mine sent me a link a while back to a Vauxhall Omega estate that had been LS swapped. Sadly, I was, and am, much too poor to own it…

  13. This site needs a lot less editors notes interrupting the point of someone else’s writing. Especially Ed notes from DT. Sorry, DT. I normally like your stuff. But often your Ed notes are a distraction.

  14. I agree completely. How can you “continue” something that never started? And as you point out, completely pointless as they’ll just end up as static displays. A “continuation” of an actually produced car (as long as it’s very obvious it’s not original) is fine, but this is stupid. Still, I suppose Lotus and whomever owns it this week can use the cash from people who have apparently plenty to unload.

  15. I’m glad you’ve fully accepted the “cool goth uncle” title we in the commentariat have bestowed upon you! Anyway, I’m glad to see an article on the Can Am series here on the Autopian. It was truly one of the most unhinged, unapologetically ridiculous spectacles in racing history and for those reasons I love it dearly. It didn’t take itself too seriously and as you touch on here, it encouraged manufacturers to put together some of the most absurd cars in their histories.

    I wish we could have something akin to it today to be honest, and maybe I’m off here since it was way, way before my time…but it seems to have had that working class sort of motorsports energy that I and many other enthusiasts are so drawn too. I genuinely don’t care very much about Formula 1 due to the fact that it’s essentially a pissing contest for the .1%, but unlimited displacement zombie cars duking it out? That’s gonna get a HELL YEAH BROTHERRRR from me.

    Unfortunately the nostalgia economy is undefeated and comes for us all. I’m in my early 30s and capitalism is currently going after us aggressively with shit like Emo Cruises, Nü Metal festivals, and the like…and people are falling for it. I don’t really bemoan people for wanting to relive simpler times in their past…I think it’s a pretty universal human thing even if I try my best not to get sucked in by the people who want to profit off it.

    But I agree with you-trying to profit off a past that never even existed is deeply cynical…and Lotus is a bit of a mess right now outside of the apparently excellent Emira. I have less than 0 interest in the goddamn 3 ton electric crossover bullshit and I don’t care about this either. It’s just another substitute for dick extending aimed at the wealthiest of the wealthy so they can run from their crushing insecurities for a little longer…and it’s tied to a past that didn’t even exist. That’s lame as fuck.

  16. Wouldn’t do Lotus much good to “continue” the 40, would it?

    I see the point — which is money — but my taste would run more toward acquiring a “continuation” C-Type Jaguar, which was a car that was actually raced. A Blower Bentley not so much, as it was not a great success. Heck, even W.O. hated the thing.

    When Carroll Shelby “found” some leftover Cobra chassis some years ago and had “continuation” cars built using them, the whole deal seemed, well, sketchy (a friend who a) built cars himself and b) had worked for Shelby back in the day saw the frames, and proclaimed them bogus). So does the Lotus 66.

    1. If I had the money, a Jaguar D-Type replica, modified into an aerodynamic coupe, with an OM606 Mercedes turbodiesel powering it tuned to somewhere around 300 horses… man that would be amazing!

      The E-Type was such a step backward aerodynamically compared to the D-Type.

      1. Same here, sort of. I never liked the front of the E-Type, but thought the D-Type’s more curvaceous front and more open wheel arches so that a U-turn doesn’t require 400′ while looking like it’s awkwardly standing on tip toes with a coupe rear similar to a lightweight E-Type’s would be efficient and gorgeous.

  17. I’d have more respect for them if they’d just built the Type 66 digitally and dropped it in Gran Turismo 7. 

    And they’d still make a bunch of money off of it while getting to show it off even more. This would have been the better choice by far.

  18. Let me tell you what’s had me checking my guillotine for sharpness this week.

    I feel like I’m just constantly sharpening mine these days. You must be a lot calmer than I am.

      1. I thought the description of Can-Am was concise and correct.
        Now this fake history imagined for rich people, is absolute bullshit and it is articles like this that will expose it for what it is. Maybe by exposing the foolishness of the buyers, and sparking humiliation amongst their peers, this might become not only a car you can’t drive on the road or track, but one of no value.

        Now about that missing paragraph?

        1. I recall Charlie Stross suggested our New Techbro Economy could use some decent crowdsourced app-enabled tumbrels.
          Speaking of traditional approaches, how was Tanzwut?

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